<?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-3022666163132529627</id><updated>2011-07-07T14:42:02.660-07:00</updated><category term='happiness'/><category term='disney'/><category term='princess'/><category term='disappointed'/><category term='boywatching'/><category term='jealousy'/><title type='text'>Because I said so</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-8970322700940672972</id><published>2011-05-07T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T18:23:27.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe id="basicEmbed" src="https://api.opentok.com/hl/embed/2embfe86ec50c5bd0cc1b39e14960323ac99527e" width="500" height="340" style="border:none"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-8970322700940672972?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=8970322700940672972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/8970322700940672972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/8970322700940672972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2011/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-5805919139785866164</id><published>2009-08-10T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T14:56:16.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S DONE!</title><content type='html'>so come on over(:&lt;br /&gt;http://becausesierrasaidso.dreamish.net&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks everyone. and hope to see you over at my new home.&lt;br /&gt;affies, please change my link&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-5805919139785866164?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=5805919139785866164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/5805919139785866164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/5805919139785866164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-done.html' title='IT&apos;S DONE!'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-34446058245393897</id><published>2009-08-05T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T15:53:39.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yes!</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I have been looking for a new page to host my blog for the longest time. Blogger just doesn't cut it for me, you know? So I finally got a subdomain, but I gotta put it together!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to use cPanel, which I have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; used before, so I'm excited but kind of nervous at the same time. I have a lot of ideas that I want to use for this site. Like, I'm making a list of things I want to do for junior year and blogging about it. I'm thinking about expanding my design range into t-shirts and putting them up for sale(: I have so many ideas, but for now I am going to learn how to use cPanel and then I'm going to get going to moving stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Affies, I will email/leave you message when it's up so you can change the link. Oh, and I'll still be blogging here until everything is COMPLETELY done over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I love you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-34446058245393897?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=34446058245393897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/34446058245393897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/34446058245393897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/08/yes.html' title='yes!'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-4715286642826600847</id><published>2009-08-04T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T18:43:55.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'>nothing intelligent</title><content type='html'>The title is totally correct. I have nothing intelligent to say today. I mean, not saying that anything hasn't happened, which ho ho ho! Shit flew out the window yesterday.. but, I am not exactly all for sharing that lovely story on the internet so, I decided to posted one of those myspace surveys on here and answer all of the questions throughly. This will give you, my friends/readers, a better perspective of.. me and my life. Okay here we go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What is your best talent? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually not too sure about this one. As a child, I used write stories and such and they are reasonably good. Nowadays all I do is photography whenever I can get my hands on a camera and graphic design and blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you know anyone named Nicole? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we used to be good friends. Not so much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever had a true FML? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Yeah. I guess.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you considering having children right now? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having children right now at this age, no. But in the future, I would love to have twins.&lt;br /&gt;A boy and a girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you enjoy the darkness? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not at all. I am terrified of being alone in the dark. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you afraid of being single?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of and kind of not. Kind of because I don't think I'll ever find someone as good for me as Rob and Kind of not because being single is fun.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have a new boyfriend/girlfriend ever week? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you good at decieving others? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depends on who I am deceiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How much memory does your computer have? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I deleted this hidden file of backup Photoshop brushes... A lot of space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you play video games? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really. I play Super Mario Galaxy every now and then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What color are you eyes? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark brown. I don't really like them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Is your hair layered? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, hair hasn't been cut professionally in forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What is the closest yellow thing to you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A book&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you believe in labeling others? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really. I think labeling is dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever shot an animal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;No. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How do you feel about Judge Judy? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her. (: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you exercise daily? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During track seasons, yes. Times like now, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How many months have you been alive? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hmm.. 12 x 15 = 180 then you add the half (180 + 6) and then july (187)&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Can you do cool things with your hair? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yeah.. if you want to call it that. People have made mohawks with no gel, i can hold a curl for days.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If you call that cool.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have a couch in your house? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Multiple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Would you like to have a soda machine in your room? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. I would drink it all in one sitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you impatient? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Extremely.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Would you pay someone to drive you around everywhere? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. If I had money, I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you think soap operas are too good to be true? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course. Life never works like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you concious of your weight? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yes. I think I am bit heavier than I should be.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever jumped out of a window? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.. why should I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you tolerant of pain? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely not. I hate pain. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What kind of mood are you usually in? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very crabby one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you feel like you can read others minds? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depends on who. If it's my friend, probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have a webcam? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yes. But it's mad old.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you finish other peoples sentences? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes... sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How many pairs of shoes do you own? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When is your birthday? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December ninth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you feel important where you're at right now? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you short tempered? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very much so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you cry when someone yells at you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever been homeless? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How many online accounts do you have? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you drive through red lights? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What sound puts you to sleep? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you a fast or slow reader? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast. I skim usually unless it's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you a good speller? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Most of the time.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have a tv in your bedroom? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How long can you go without sleeping? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How long can you go without talking? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you currently have a job? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;noo sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you tend to always be in some sort of drama? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you collect quarters from every state? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How important is appearance in your life? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's now starting to matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you any good at photography? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Would you rather sleep all night or sleep all day? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you hate getting up early? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who doesnt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Does it bother you when people use poor grammar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Could you see yourself being a bartender? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I wish I could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you currently tired? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What was the last thing you had to drink? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you like to take walks? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depends on where im going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever had de ja vu? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you a fan of anime? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you draw a lot? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you plan on going to college? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you feel at home in your own home? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not usually. I have a terrible relationship with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you pay for your own cell phone bill? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noopeee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you really think that life's what you make it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes and I have made quite a mess of mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-4715286642826600847?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=4715286642826600847&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/4715286642826600847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/4715286642826600847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/08/nothing-intelligent.html' title='nothing intelligent'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-1210908418279880510</id><published>2009-08-02T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T17:07:01.228-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='princess'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Disney endings. Everyone knows them. They are, quite literally, perfect. They always involve some girl, maybe privileged or maybe not. Then they introduce the guy who is almost always down on his luck. Of course, in some strange public setting they meet and it's love at first sight. Trials and tribulations and fights, oh my! But to take the cake, everything in the end ends perfectly. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like everyone else in the world, I have come to realize that Disney endings don't really happen in this world. Ever. That Disney only shows part of a life story and that no matter how many sequels and prequels they release, there will never be a depressing Disney ending nor will it resemble anything of a normal life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe that's what people want to see when they go to movies or when they turn the tv. That our lives are so miserable and that it's so not perfect that you are basically a masochist for watching another person's  (as fictional as they may be) life and envying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, that isn't the point I wanted to make. I wanted to talk about the deep ending of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fourth Comings&lt;/span&gt;. It's obviously, the fourth book of the Jessica Darling series. First I must say, that in no way shape or form, are those books a Disney book. They are as realistic as possible and while some things are a stretch, you realize that people win a million dollars from the lottery so it can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fourth Comings&lt;/span&gt; did not have a story book ending or a Disney ending. There was no dramatic make up or passionate realization of love. And that depressed me. Maybe it's because when I was younger, I made a life plan to have a Disney life.  No, I wasn't like my friends, who smothered themselves with the princesses and etc. But I wanted what everyone wants- a perfect life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The perfect life- an awesome job that I loved, a handsome and loving husband, the perfect little house in the perfect little town. And yes, I still want that. But still... I knew that it wasn't just going to happen, that my life wasn't predetermined by a group of writers.  And let me go off track to introduce something, a quote I had heard, "Everyone has a purpose, but some people are just meant to be filler in someone else's life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes me wonder. Am I just filler or am I supposed to have a big purpose? Is it possible to have that perfect life? Well, maybe not if it's possible because it's evident that you can from all of the billionaires in the world. But can just anyone achieve perfect happiness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm laying on my couch downstairs in my living room, with the book, finished on the side, contemplating all of this. Yes, I was in shock. Is it possible to end a book and not have the perfect happy ending? Yes, obviously. But, as much as I complain about Disney, I didn't want it to end that way. I wanted love and romance and happiness. But it didn't end that way. But I really wanted it to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it got me thinking. What about Rob and I? What if we end just like that? The last page of book that was confusing and unexpected. And not even me and Rob, what about me? How am I going to find happiness? Lauren had her sweet sixteen yesterday and she simply shined and as she just told me, it didn't even matter if it was everything she ever wanted because it was good and that was what she wanted. And I envy her for that. That optimism and pleasure of having something even though it wasn't everything she wanted. Maybe I'm just greedy and selfish. Maybe I just want too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I want to be happy and I don't know how....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-1210908418279880510?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=1210908418279880510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/1210908418279880510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/1210908418279880510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/08/disney-endings.html' title=''/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-7414674956298075514</id><published>2009-07-31T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T17:17:39.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>candy the magic dinosaur</title><content type='html'>Tee hee. I love Candy the Magic Dinosaur. It's one of the new webisodes made by the fabulous team at Weebl's Stuff. It's so cute, yet he finds out that the other dinosaur is fake, I start tearing up too.  Awwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... today. Nothing big really happened. I guess no news is good news. Well actually, I had to find two books for school at Barnes and Noble and that was terrible. My mother is yelling as I am trying to find a biography to read for AP English. I don't know what was worse- realizing that she was yelling at me for no reason or going home to find that I had no reason to get a biography. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other then that, today was fine. Rob and I planned a date and I got a kind of okay to go to dinner with him on Monday which is exciting. (: Why this is exciting, i'll talk about at another time when I feel like ranting about the injustice of having parents who hate your boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question of the day:&lt;br /&gt;What is your dream date?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-7414674956298075514?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=7414674956298075514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/7414674956298075514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/7414674956298075514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/candy-magic-dinosaur.html' title='candy the magic dinosaur'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-3516773180990806470</id><published>2009-07-29T17:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T17:01:08.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>365 things.</title><content type='html'>Well, in a couple of days, it's going to be my fifteen month anniversary with rob. i figured i would post a blog about how much i love him and yada yada... WRONG. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a post on the gurl.com shout out boards that caught my eye. One member had started a thread about 365 things that you love about your boyfriend. At first you think, whoa is there 365 things to say about him or maybe you're one of those girlfriends who immediately started compiling a list in your head... either way it was quite a bit. However i was still curious so i clicked on the link and i realized that it wasn't 365 things about one lucky boyfriend; all she wanted was 365 different things about 365 or so (some people posted two) boyfriends. Really, it was asking what is your favourite thing about your boyfriend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought about it and I had my fingers poised over my keyboard ready to write this long, passionate thing about..... that was just it. I didn't know what to write. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen months is a long time for a high school relationship. As his mother said to us in the car, "A year in high school is like 20 years of marriage," which was interesting enough. I suppose, from all the dramatic tv movies and sappy romance novels I have come in contact with, that &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; be&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;true. However, I don't really know. My own parents haven't been married for 20 years. [They are quite youthful. (:] Either way, our relationship had gone on for quite some time and there I was, speechless, with nothing to say about my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not saying I don't have things I like about him. There are the usuals- his eyes, his smile, his personality. Then there is how he always makes me laugh, how I can tell him anything and how he is always there for me no matter what. All true and slightly clique. But what was that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;ONE&lt;/span&gt; defining thing about him that keeps me with him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me backtrack into my past a bit to tell you something peculiar about rob that made him so.. different. Way Way Way back in the eighth grade, 3 years ago or whatever, my then and now best friend Meg came up the list of the perfect boy. I can't remember her list- it involved music tastes and dark hair... that's legit all I remember. But my list, I dug out off my archives like 3 months ago. It then described no one. Not even the guy I had a massive crush on at the time. But when I found it, I realized that it described Rob perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what could I write about? What &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; the one thing that I loved the most about my boyfriend. I didn't know at the time so I thought about it. Like the dad said in Juno, "Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with." [exact quote, looked it up] Which is right on, Mr. MacGuff, because my boyfriend thinks that. But, that's not what I love about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's how he never feels like he has to impress anyone other than my parent. How he makes sure i'm smiling all of the time and when I'm not, he's there to talk. How we fight every month, maybe even break up, but every time we get back together we both are wiser and stronger. How every morning I wake up, I am happy to know that I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world and at that very second, no matter what he is doing, he is thinking about me. It's how we watch children's television and talk about it, like we're watching House or Scrubs. It's how I don't get butterflies when I see him anymore, but this big goofy smile always appears on my face no matter what. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I love about him. No, it's not one complete statement. It's not one completely perfect little sentence to say what I want to say. But it's the truth and that's all that really counts. If you want one little sentence, then here it is: I'm crazy and he's crazy and together, with our craziness combined, we are perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-3516773180990806470?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=3516773180990806470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/3516773180990806470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/3516773180990806470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/365-things.html' title='365 things.'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-6813089922569894393</id><published>2009-07-28T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T11:22:36.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the website</title><content type='html'>myspace has every web designers home away from home. if they haven't made the idiotic decision to upgrade to 2.0, myspace 1.0 leaves a bountiful space to showcase their graphic and coding talent.&lt;br /&gt;of course that led to the myspace resource site, sites owned by designers who want other people using their codes and their graphics. there are male and female owners. the ages of owners range from 12-28. but they are all talented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to be one of them. i had my own site. it was called euphoria and it was doing pretty good until... i was grounded and my parents took away my internet access. tragic? i know. i lost all of my work. i was behind on new trends and styles. my friends had moved on. but i tried again, i started again as say anything else. that ended soon when my access was taken away again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now it's a whole new summer and i am considering starting up again. but then i realized, i don't have to do that whole clique- layouts, graphics, etc.- jazz. if i get a domain name, i'll find a host and host my blog there, then do domain headers with the option of coding. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;opinions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-6813089922569894393?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=6813089922569894393&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/6813089922569894393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/6813089922569894393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/website.html' title='the website'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-4471493008579814310</id><published>2009-07-24T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T15:26:35.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>texts from last night</title><content type='html'>so after my huge fmylife phase (and it's still not over), i have stumbled upon &lt;i&gt;Texts From Last Night&lt;/i&gt;. if you a&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;re not familiar, it is s&lt;/span&gt;et up in a fmylife format with different texts. the only form of identification is the area code of the sender and at the bottom, just like fml, there is the opinion of the crowd; however TFLN's "i agree your life is f*cked" is "good night" and "it's your fault" is "bad night". &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all of the texts are laugh out loud funny while some may be a tad disturbing. they, like fml, make you feel good about yourself when all is over. here are some of my personal favorites:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(46, 46, 46); font-family:verdana;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;(484): Shes from jersey what did you expect her to say when you asked her if she did coke? Its like asking some1 from a third world country if they are hungry&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;(630): there was 4 little kids screaming in high pitched voices at the top of their lungs at the sox game and their mom just leaned over to me and said 'if thats not birth control i dont know what is'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;(602): I just made friends with the guy at the coffee shop in borders. And by that I mean he stared at me until I was uncomfortable and left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;(848): a woman just threw her tv out the window while screaming "will you fucking work now?". i'm never moving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;(703): And he just showed me his vera bradley wallet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;(813): No. You are not the Kate in this relationship. I will do what I want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;(704): One of my students just wrote an essay on how ninjas, like drug addicts, must realize they need help before they can get better...I gave it an A+&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;AND MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE!:(334): I told a kindergarten student that candy canes are bones of reject elves.&lt;/blockquote&gt;if at least one out of those made you laugh or even chuckle, you need to check out this site.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, fantasy;color:#2E2E2E;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(46, 46, 46); font-family:verdana;font-size:14px;"&gt;http://textsfromlastnight.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, fantasy;color:#2E2E2E;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(46, 46, 46); font-family:verdana;font-size:14px;"&gt;hopefully there isn't one of your texts on their. (:&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial, fantasy;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, fantasy;color:#2E2E2E;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&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/3022666163132529627-4471493008579814310?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=4471493008579814310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/4471493008579814310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/4471493008579814310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/texts-from-last-night.html' title='texts from last night'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-3919402878878178819</id><published>2009-07-22T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T11:27:24.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"odd feelings."</title><content type='html'>i'm not in the best of conditions. my mother is avoiding me like the plague and i don't know what i should do about that. i mean, i don't know what to say to her anymore. she always behaves like she hates me when really she just can't come out and say what she needs to say.  i hate when people do that.... really, i'd rather if you just came out and said what needed to be said instead of treating this like high school where we all stand in corners and whisper about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;truthfully this isn't the first time i have made the comparison of high school to my home life and you can only imagine how stressful it is to come home from school and deal with the same thing you were hoping to leave. anyway, my mother and my grandmother, believe it or not, are the gossipers.. the girls who know everything.. or think they know everything and then gossip about it amongst themselves or to my dad who is the enforcer. it's his way or no way. usually it's safer to choose his way but sometimes he is so blatantly wrong that i must correct him. then there is me, the drama queen. i admit it, i'm over dramatic but i do know the truth about a lot of things that the gossipers don't. my sister is the goody two shoes with an attitude. she makes the effort to be good and innocent but at the same time, when people get her angry, she flips. my brothers are just innocent bystanders who attempted to get involved but are too young to understand any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my life is high school reincarnated but my family isn't always pitted against one another. we do have our good times and i'm not talking about christmas time when everyone is trying to suck up to one another to get better presents or accusing people of getting cheap gifts- which yes does occur. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what to do sometimes. they are really stressful and i know that my mom and dad are trying their hardest to make our lives better than what they had but at the same time, i think they overthink parenting and automatically assume the worst. they definitely overthink their jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does anyone relate? tell me your stories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-3919402878878178819?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=3919402878878178819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/3919402878878178819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/3919402878878178819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/odd-feelings.html' title='&quot;odd feelings.&quot;'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-435655747841143105</id><published>2009-07-21T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T10:01:56.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"because no one knows you like i do.."</title><content type='html'>i'm tired. my power decided it would be funny to trip the circuit for just my room and thus i was without power in my room for 12 hours. ughhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i'm on purevolume listening to a rocket to the moon. i'm kind of in love with them. it is really good. purevolume has been my hidden savior these last couple of days. all the music has been helpful in relieving the massive amount of stress i've been feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have nothing to talk about right at this very second but i had the urge to update. i dunno why...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-435655747841143105?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=435655747841143105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/435655747841143105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/435655747841143105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-no-one-knows-you-like-i-do.html' title='&quot;because no one knows you like i do..&quot;'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-6107470092196142813</id><published>2009-07-20T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T09:47:29.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's about time for a breakdown anyhow..</title><content type='html'>so i finally did it. i finally finished finding a blog layout, coding it to my liking, and then making my blog worthy of human eye. tell me what you think on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, besides spending the last couple of days trying to do the afore mentioned, i have been thinking about some things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one. i don't write anymore.&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;well obviously i can write. i mean i'm writing in this blog, but i'm talking about legit writing like i used to do. i used write stories. And they'd be about the life i wish i had. i used to tell good stories too, but i stopped them because i often found myself deliriously depressed over the fact none of the things i would talk about would ever come true. and then i found photography was a more realistic and pleasureable approach to expressing myself. but yesterday i found that, i kind of miss coming up with a good plot and writing about characters. i actually love doing that. if i had a job just based on coming up with storylines and designing characters for said storyline, i'd be set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;two. i'm a lot more lonely than i thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;this tiny tidbit hit me when rob couldn't use his phone and i wanted someone to talk to. it then dawned on me that i dont really see/speak to half of the people i used to. so slowly i'm trying to make plans to see people from all different spectrums of my life. i had a brilliant idea the other day to have the most cheap and fun day ever- photofest. three of my friends who i haven't seen in a while are photographers much like myself [except they have cameras and my camera is yet to be purchased..] so i figured, bring them over and we use my house and the parks around it to take pictures. we could probably even go into the neighboring town if we really wanted to and take pics on the river. but it's an overall good idea. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;three. sometimes change is bad..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess, this came from being yelled at by my boyfriend's best friend. i am trying to be a good girlfriend and she is yelling saying i'm a terrible girlfriend and that his biggest mistake is going out with me. which is not true... i hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, those are my thoughts. tell me what you think and give me ideas on things to write about.&lt;br /&gt;(:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/3022666163132529627-6107470092196142813?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=6107470092196142813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/6107470092196142813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/6107470092196142813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-about-time-for-breakdown-anyhow.html' title='it&apos;s about time for a breakdown anyhow..'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-99175728177196215</id><published>2009-07-18T12:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T12:41:37.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yuck. i hate fighting. not with fists and such, because that can be fun sometimes. but with your voice and your mind. fighting stinks. especially with your parents. so like every anguished american teenager, i must say, they don't get me.&lt;br /&gt;i could be getting ready to go out with my friends and primping like my sister across the hall. but, instead i am in my room typing on my computer, because, unlike my sister, i have no where to go.  i could have gone to see rob and emmy, but i got stuck with my mother who is "uncomfortable" with the mere thought of me leaving to go see them; let alone going to his house to see him.&lt;br /&gt;ughhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-99175728177196215?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=99175728177196215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/99175728177196215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/99175728177196215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/yuck.html' title=''/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-7445598631651112219</id><published>2009-07-13T06:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T06:11:46.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I came to realize upon waking up this morning that i have an opportunity to make myself happy. This summer. Right now. And I&amp;#39;ll think I&amp;#39;ll do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-7445598631651112219?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=7445598631651112219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/7445598631651112219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/7445598631651112219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-came-to-realize-upon-waking-up-this.html' title=''/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-704100128676836621</id><published>2009-07-12T11:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T11:37:28.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My parents are throughly convinced that i have taken a change for the worst. And maybe i have. I&amp;#39;m fighting with people that i used to be really close to and i have known for  years. And i&amp;#39;m constantly miserable and I&amp;#39;ve been losing friends left and right. But I&amp;#39;ve been trying to find myself and i seem to be failing. I don&amp;#39;t know what to do anymore. I keep trying and trying. But i get nowhere... I just want stability. And That&amp;#39;s not happening. But my motto for this year, this summer is actually a lyric from the new all time low album, nothing personal. &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;maybe it&amp;#39;s not my weekend but it&amp;#39;s gonna be my year and i&amp;#39;m so sick of watching all the minutes as i go nowhere. &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;--summerlove:]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-704100128676836621?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=704100128676836621&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/704100128676836621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/704100128676836621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-parents-are-throughly-convinced-that.html' title=''/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-2934668742860608929</id><published>2009-07-11T17:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T17:34:07.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So i&amp;#39;m home finally. And i must say that my trip was going really well. But of course it&amp;#39;s not a trip without a fight. Ugh. With that aside, i&amp;#39;m glad to be home. I miss texting and my friends. &lt;br&gt;but that&amp;#39;s not why i&amp;#39;m blogging. I&amp;#39;m writing because i want to talk about something. I was looking at the 2009 ikea catalogue and i remembered when i was younger that i would imagine being old enough to buy all of that stuff and have nice rooms like the ones in there. It&amp;#39;s odd but i enjoyed it. &lt;br&gt;--summerlove:]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-2934668742860608929?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=2934668742860608929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/2934668742860608929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/2934668742860608929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-i-home-finally.html' title=''/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-3842735322789368022</id><published>2009-07-07T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T17:47:00.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"once upon time, there was a boy and a girl.."</title><content type='html'>So I know it's wrong. Completely and utter wrong but I went and met another guy tonight. Well I met him and his brother through my godmother but he's the most good looking guy I have seen in a long time. He had these nice green/blue eyes and this nicee tan that is unbelievable. AND HE HAS THE NICEST BODY. But let me contain myself. He didn't have much to say which was a disappointment for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay more later. Stuff is happening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-3842735322789368022?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=3842735322789368022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/3842735322789368022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/3842735322789368022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/once-upon-time-there-was-boy-and-girl.html' title='&quot;once upon time, there was a boy and a girl..&quot;'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-5752115718995097421</id><published>2009-07-06T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T08:11:41.216-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disappointed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jealousy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boywatching'/><title type='text'>"quick, jump!"</title><content type='html'>I have had 4 nose bleeds in the past 24 hours. Which in the normal world is like 5 months worth of nosebleeds crammed into one day. All of this because I forgot/was too lazy when I remembered to take my Allegra. I have allergies like the rest of the world; they are mostly seasonal. UGHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the real world, we went up to the trailer the other day. It was gorgeous when the the sun was setting over the lake. It was beautiful. But I left the camera home. I was pretty mad at myself. I'm a huge photographer type. But the trailer trip, itself, did not disappoint. There were these guys up there that did not disappoint. But I, myself, disappointed myself. I didn't do anything to make myself look, wantable. To look like someone to chase after. My hair was filthy and curly. My skin was dry from the hot tub/pool. I felt dirty. So it only made sense to come home and shower. But I made a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my last week in Canada, my last chance to make an impression on people other than my family here. I know that we are going to see this really attractive guy.. well two that I can account for but I know I am going to meet more. So I took the time to make myself look wantable. And I'm not disappointed. I look good. Yay! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what we have planned for today. But today should should go well. I'm hoping to turn some heads. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But truthfully, I don't have to. I have Rob. Rob is my boyfriend of almost 14 months. It will be 14 months on Tuesday. But we've been fighting. We are always fighting. We were fighting last night and the night before that. But there is nothing I can do about it. Sometimes he does things that bother me. Like when he went on the cruise and he bragged about dancing with girls. And then he came home and he changed his profile picture to him and this girl. She had the same profile picture. It looked like they were dating. Ugh. Maybe I am being too possessive. But I miss him and I am so far away from him and I feel like I am losing him to these girls who keep walking into his life. Because that's how I got there. That's how I met him. I walked into his life and wanted to stay. What if that's the plan of one of these girls? Maybe I have a jealous complex but still I feel I am justified.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-5752115718995097421?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=5752115718995097421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/5752115718995097421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/5752115718995097421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/quick-jump.html' title='&quot;quick, jump!&quot;'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022666163132529627.post-4856110089858033512</id><published>2009-07-04T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T14:02:25.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a new blog.</title><content type='html'>So I realize that I have an addiction. An addiction to getting my life story out into the world in seven billion different forms. I have a blog. I tweet. I have not only a facebook, but a myspace. I used to be an owner of one of those myspace resource sites. I don't know where any of this gets me but I do know that I enjoy every waking second of it. But who am I? That's an excellent question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Sierra. But you can call me anything under the sun. I go by so many nicknames that it is often scary. I am fifteen years old and I'm going to be a junior in high school, starting september. My passions include photography and graphic design. I want to be an advertising director or magazine photographer or something in the media field. I love music. But who doesn't? I love that feeling of finding a new band and listening to all of their music and then telling your friends about them. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want this blog to be a tribute to the American teenager who isn't perfect, but they aren't a complete screw up. I want this blog to tell the world about things and issues that bother me and possibly people around me. I want this blog to show the world... well, me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please follow as I get everything together.&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;sierra catherine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3022666163132529627-4856110089858033512?l=becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3022666163132529627&amp;postID=4856110089858033512&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/4856110089858033512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3022666163132529627/posts/default/4856110089858033512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becausesierrasaidso.blogspot.com/2009/07/new-blog.html' title='a new blog.'/><author><name>sierra catherine :]</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04445708666655566021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h238/lanina9/IPLAYTHESAMESONGOVER.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
