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  <title>entrez dans mon salon, a dit l&apos;araignée à la mouche.</title>
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  <description>entrez dans mon salon, a dit l&apos;araignée à la mouche. - LiveJournal.com</description>
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    <title>entrez dans mon salon, a dit l&apos;araignée à la mouche.</title>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 06:07:41 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Going after my baby</title>
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  <description>Dream morning of Thursday October 29, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another dream with Elizabeth in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . . We were at this house for an event or party. Suddenly I couldn&apos;t find Elizabeth anywhere, and I was worried. I came out of the house, started climbing up the rockface the house was built on/into. This place had occured in a past dream, I&apos;m sure of it. I knew I had a dangerous trek ahead of me, and I was willing to do it to find her. I knew there was a rapids and a waterfall amid some nasty rocks. As I headed up, though, someone called out to me, pointing out another way. I debated for a while, standing there. I really wanted to find her, of course, and I recognized the chivalrous glory in braving the rocks, but I knew there was no sense in risking my life when she probably didn&apos;t go that way. I got off that path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I found her, with my family. Strangely, though, she didn&apos;t say anything to me. We headed out, going somewhere into the house, and I asked if she was okay, pointing out that I had been frantically worried, and that she hadn&apos;t said anything to acknowledge that we&apos;d been separated for a while. Whereas my family had greeted me, she&apos;d said nothing to me, as if I wasn&apos;t there. She seemed surprised that it&apos;d happened, and I think she apologized.  I was baffled, and unsure what to do. We went inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REALITY CHECK:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m very pleased with my sentiment in the dream, but of course, not with the outcome. We&apos;d had a fight in real life the night before, which is probably the explanation behind it. My family was there, mother included, in an outing with my girlfriend! This is higly unusual, as contact between her and my family has been very minimal. She&apos;s the first girl I&apos;ve ever &quot;brought home&quot; and hasn&apos;t spent any real time there. My mother likes her, though, surprising as that is, as she doesn&apos;t trust anyone she doesn&apos;t know. So I&apos;m surprised at this family outing in the dream, but pleased at that too. She&apos;ll finally be spending a good week here soon, and all those factors must have put this dream together.</description>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 05:08:05 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Dreams August 2009</title>
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  <description>Friday morning, 8/14/2009: Placeholder&lt;br /&gt;Long since forgotten it. I&apos;ll update this section later if it comes back to me&lt;br /&gt;Rudy. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 7th or 11th&lt;br /&gt;Lori. . .&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Moseby</description>
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  <pubDate>Sun, 19 Jul 2009 18:35:44 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Asian Invasion</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/49987.html</link>
  <description>Dream from 6/13/2009, just putting it on here now - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:50 AM 6/13/2009&lt;br /&gt;War/battle preperations - detailed plans&lt;br /&gt;time lapse - found myself outside, halfway somewhere&lt;br /&gt;decided to lease/pick up car. saw battle goign on, didn&apos;tremember if I was supposed to go with them or meet them there. hmm. better meet, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thin ship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hotel:&lt;br /&gt;Was in a hotel, doing what, I can&apos;t say. Heard my phone ringing from afar and realized that I had left my luggage down on another floor. Got into the elevator; an older Asian woman was already in there. She asked me something unintelligible as we approached her stop. Sounded something like Japanese. I stuttered for a moment, trying to remember my Japanese negation, and at last came out with &quot;wakaranai&quot; - &quot;I don&apos;t understand&quot;, realizing`as I said it that I should have said &quot;wakarimasen&quot; to be more polite. &lt;i&gt;Curses!&lt;/i&gt; I thought to myself as she stepped out. I was upset at my total blanking out there, but I knew it was a warranted blankage, as I recalled that Japanese, unlike European languages, probably unlike most of the world&apos;s languages, doesn&apos;t have a separate word like &quot;not&quot; to negate; instead they conjugate morphologically the verb itself for negation. And their adjectives too, suggesting to some linguists t`at the language doesn&apos;t truly have adjectives as we Indo-European speakers define them, but rather a very special class of verbs. Something similar could be said for Haitian adjectives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I was thinking all of this while standing in the elevator after she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time lapse?&lt;br /&gt;We were in a car/caravan, dropping off this girl, also Asian. This one was probably my age, and stranger. She said something to me. I don&apos;t remember now if it was intelligible or not, but I&apos;m pretty sure it was in English. Then she got off and was saying something to someone else in Haitian Creole. I was shocked to hear it and jumped out of my seat, sticking had out of window to ask &quot;Ou Ayisyen?&quot; The front passenger - Naomi? - confirmed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said that the`girl wasn&apos;t actually Asian, that she&apos;d gotten surgery to change her eyes. I misunderstood, thinking the other way, where Asians have their eyes &quot;rounded&quot; to look more Caucasian. &quot;Oh, that&apos;s no good,&quot; I responded. There are of course the occasional Africans/Europeans who just happen to have the stereotypical Asian eyes. I brought up Erica, a Haitian girl from our church who did - maybe this girl was similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued on our way, apparently coming back from some park or fair. The others in the vehicle were the Esperant family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REALITY CHECK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Esperants are a real family that we&apos;ve traveled with, to Disney or to an occasional park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize now, seeing two Asians in one dream, that my dreams are usually devoid of &apos;em. Could it be due to the recent girlfriend, half Asian herself? I bring that up as a possible stimulus for the dream, but I doubt it, as neither dream girl matched Elizabeth&apos;s ethnicity, not was I in love with either dream girl.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn&apos;t important or brought up in the dream, but thinking back, the Asian girl&apos;s features suggested she was Korean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn&apos;t have been so surprised; I do know a few Asian and part-Asian Haitians in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyelid surgery is called blepharoplasty.</description>
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  <lj:music>One of My Kind - Rogue Traders</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">One of My Kind - Rogue Traders</media:title>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 17 Jul 2009 19:35:11 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>E-dump</title>
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  <description>*sigh* And then it was her turn to hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won&apos;t go into details, it&apos;s been a few weeks anyway. Both I and her best friend stopped talking to her for some time, both of us pissed and unsure what to do with our respective significant others, where the trespass had taken place. We&apos;ve reconciled but her friend and her boyfriend didn&apos;t, sadly. I won&apos;t go into detail; it&apos;s been a few weeks anyway, and it&apos;s not the best way to introduce her to this journal when she&apos;s got so many other wonderful qualities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hurt is gone now, but there&apos;s a twinge of something still remaining, unsure what to call it. Gives me a momentary heart attack, so to speak, whenever it sounds like she&apos;s got bad news, even in the middle of a wonderful conversation. That&apos;ll take time to go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday the 5th was not a good day. Or maybe it had started out well, but I don&apos;t remember that part. During the dinner shift the radio came on with &quot;No One&quot; by Alicia Keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;No one, no one, no one&lt;br /&gt;Can get in the way of what I&apos;m feeling&lt;br /&gt;No one, no one, no one&lt;br /&gt;Can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That one hit me hard, crashed any good mood I may have been in. My emotions are eased/intensified/buffered/calmed/moved/etc. by music. I&apos;d already forgiven her by this point, but I knew there was some pain still remaining. I forgave her because I knew the pain now would pale in comparison to how happy we could be in the future. The song pulled on the pain, however, and casted the rest of the night into a somber tone. We send all sorts of music to each other, and I realized listening to this that I really want her to send this one, to promise to me that no one would get in between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know some people search the world&lt;br /&gt;To find something like what we have&lt;br /&gt;I know people will try try to divide something so real&lt;br /&gt;So till the end of time I&apos;m telling you there ain&apos;t no one&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;And then she sent me letter. Got it the very next day, the 6th. We&apos;re only 5 hours apart now, as opposed to at least 4 times as much, but she sent a letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to have everything just right to read it. Where should I read it? Is it good news? Bad news? Eventually decided on the Minnesota building, which I had conveniently just discovered the day before, which is right on the water, and I sat on the beach. Corny, I know. Get used to it, cause our whole story&apos;s just dripping with sappiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind tried to pull the papers out of my fingers, and I may have actually slipped aloud an &quot;Accursed wind!&quot; It was cold but I barely noticed as I read it. Mood soared. I laughed aloud, no care for the people around. She included a quote:&lt;br /&gt;&quot;In true love the smallest distance is too great, and the greatest distance can be bridged.”&lt;br /&gt;-- Hans Nouwens&lt;br /&gt;And how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day I also got details on potential job here for the coming school year, and got some info about a writer&apos;s camp for my sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;And then, the next day, she surprised me with a visit. A cleverly disguised hint sent in a text message early in the day, and one later that made it obvious, received only minutes before I saw her. Entered the room to find her laying on my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I rearranged my schedule so that I could make it Chicago for a day, cause she told me that Funkadesi(.com) was gonna be there, with some bhangra dance to be had. I could NOT let this pass me by, so I worked some schedule magic and we went. It was wonderful, my first time in Chicago. Met her brothers, spent the night, and came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth took to bhangra like her body was meant to do it. I was, of course, profoundly happy, and proud. We were, as usual, the center of plenty other&apos;s attention. I was helping others out, sometimes on purpose, sometimes just by being in front of them where they could see how we were moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny enough, they played that very song. I grabbed her and danced, singing it to her. I was full of all sorts of different emotions. But the strongest of them was happiness. Ironic and surprising, that they played that song. And yet, utterly unsurprising, cause these &quot;coincidences&quot; insist on surrounding us. It is truly ridiculous. But more on that another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that too, was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;EDIT 10/30: One mo&apos; gin&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A way late edit, but it should go here nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 2 weeks later. I was feeling better. This time it was I who took a trip to surprise her, a surprise set in motion months before. I hadn&apos;t been sure I would still do it, but in the end I did. I got there, the surprise went off well. We were going to spend the night at her friend&apos;s place, who by now had forgiven her as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got there and I met the guy, the other guilty party from the aforementioned infidelity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was cool, more or less, but now when it was in my face, I wasn&apos;t feeling so cool. I sure played it cool, but I really wasn&apos;t sure how to act. Should I say something? Shouldn&apos;t he? How are we supposed to greet each other? My head was all a-jumble and I started seeing them - did it happen here in the living room? Or out on the balcony maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left, and the three of us were preparing to go out, and while sitting there, she tried to kiss me a couple times and I dodged, trying to settle what was happening in my mind. When she wanted to hold my hand I got up and walked around. Didn&apos;t seem strange, as if I was merely exploring their place. I wasn&apos;t gonna bring it up, wasn&apos;t gonna leave or something. But I suddenly wasn&apos;t comfortable being there, and wasn&apos;t sure how staying the night there would play out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we were on our way. I was pretty quiet at that point, withdrawn a bit. I wasn&apos;t - and rarely am - fully speechless, though, so it didn&apos;t show. I realized later that I would have been within my right to request an apology from him too. He knew who I was now. Ke knew about me before, and that hadn&apos;t stopped him; he hadn&apos;t respected that, so it was in order. By the time that came to mind, though, it seemed too late. I didn&apos;t want to be the one holding on to this when everyone else seemed to have already forgotten about it. Seemed I was the only one who could see this elephant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that&apos;s annoying, not just in this situation but in general. I have slow emotional transitions - I&apos;m not easily angered, or annoyed, and even when I am, I have a patience I&apos;m not sure I&apos;ve seen in anyone else, and a quiet but stubborn willpower that&apos;s &quot;strong like bull.&quot; Many females and some males, in comparison, seem fickle and flighty to me. The upside is that I can tolerate the most annoying people and not lose my cool in many a difficult situation. The downside is that I have a long memory - when something truly does bother me, I stay bothered for a while. So it takes a while for painful things to go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then - what a world. We were on our way to karaoke, with a live band instead of CD&apos;s, which was pretty cool. Before we even got there, a friend of Elizabeth&apos;s friend had already arranged the first song she&apos;d sing at karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the same song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A third time?! That&apos;s no coincidence. And this time the turnover was damn fast; I had been in this . . . funk(?) for less than an hour. And again, the P-T-B seemed to be trying to reassure me. Again, of all the songs in the world, in just a few hours to play &apos;em, this was the one chosen. Ree-diculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fine!&lt;/i&gt; I shouted to the universe. Not out loud, but mentally. And I chuckled. &lt;i&gt;Fine! I get it! I&apos;ll let it go. It&apos;s her, she&apos;s the one.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She caught my laughter and asked me what was up. I didn&apos;t tell her quite; only that I was having one of &lt;i&gt;those&lt;/i&gt; moments. She knew what I meant, cause we have &apos;em all the time, the &apos;signs&apos; that surround us, that say we&apos;re meant to be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got back. Apprehension was still there, but now I could handle it. Takes time, but I&apos;m resilient; I do recover. My healing may be slow, but it&apos;s sincere, and hopefully will be complete. I finally kissed her, in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was, for the most part, a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn&apos;t then, but next time I see him, I&apos;ll get that apology. I&apos;m owed it.</description>
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  <category>elizabeth</category>
  <category>girls</category>
  <category>life is good</category>
  <category>things that pain me</category>
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  <pubDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2009 01:00:36 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Can&apos;t get her outta my head - dream June 11, 2009</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/49558.html</link>
  <description>It finally happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, seeing as how I tend not to remember my dreams, surely it&apos;s happened; only now I remember when it has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is, specifically, that my sweetie has a starring role in a dream of mine. I&apos;ve starred in her dreams already. Previously, she&apos;d been IMPLIED in mine, but hadn&apos;t been explicitly there until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DREAM Thursday night(6/11/2009)/Friday morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in a bus, a large group of us on some kind of road trip. The road trip was coming to an end and people were being dropped off. We were in or near Chicago, looking for the home of two people on the bus. I needed to be dropped off in Chicago, too, but didn&apos;t know where to find Elizabeth. She didn&apos;t know we were coming, so I didn&apos;t have directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were getting closer so I began hurredly searching through my phone (different from my real-life one) for her address or her number to call her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, I made the guess that she&apos;d be at the Shiz (or the Shizzle? my brain made it up) some hip place my people go to. Nobody else had any ideas, so the bus stopped there. I got down, having just found her number on my phone. I started ringing it as I walked in, but knew it&apos;d be pointless, and closed it a moment later when I saw her sitting on the wooden floor in front of a jukebox. Excited, I ran over to her, just barely containing my excitement, just barely restraining my speed so as to sneak up on her. I jumped in front of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiled, taking the surprise in stride. &quot;What are you doing here?&quot; I began to cover her in kisses. It felt ever so good to see her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I woke up, but not a sudden dream-jarring awkening. It was a very smooth transition into wakefulness, in that the dream was just picked up by my conscient imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REALITY CHECK&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ll soon be in Michigan, merely 6 google-map hours from my girlfriend, who&apos;ll be in Chicago. Clearly the motivation for this dream, as I&apos;ve never dreamt of Chicago before. I do have roadtrip dreams; that aspect&apos;s not new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s a long-distance relationship, so we don&apos;t see each other too often. That was carried over into the dream, hence my excitement to see her. Soon I will see her; she&apos;s flying down here and I&apos;ll be pretty darn excited to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ve several times had this dreams-bleeding-into-reality thing where I&apos;ve technically woken up, but continue the dream uninterrupted on my own power without fully acknowledging/realizing that I&apos;m no longer beholden to it. I don&apos;t know how often this happens to others. Going the other way, from full consciousness to (lucid) dream&apos;ll be much more difficult.</description>
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  <category>elizabeth</category>
  <lj:mood>Pretty good</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2009 08:27:39 GMT</pubDate>
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  <description>Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurt her. Made her feel like she was on the stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brows are furrowed in self-directed anger, having trouble relaxing them. Muscles around my nose all tense, headache developing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m continually surprised by how just much my emotions fly in relation to this girl. Knowing that I&apos;m the source of her pain is making me feel real lousy. Makes me feel like an ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must check my past behavior; have I done this to others? This will/must change; her happiness is what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m sorry, love.</description>
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  <category>elizabeth</category>
  <category>girls</category>
  <category>things that pain me</category>
  <category>overthinking</category>
  <lj:music>Sorry 2004 by Ruben Studdard</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Sorry 2004 by Ruben Studdard</media:title>
  <lj:mood>lousy</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Mon, 08 Jun 2009 18:59:07 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Dream Saturday, June 6, 2009</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/49061.html</link>
  <description>I need to get back into recording my dreams. It&apos;s been a while since I have, and I want to keep track, in order to be able to look &apos;em up later and confirm any prophetic ones. Also, with new girl in my life, I want to see when she appears in &apos;em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bits and pieces left from Saturday night:&lt;br /&gt;For some reson I was being chased by Al Pacino, trying to kill me for some reason. His name or fame wasn&apos;t important here, but it was definitely his face.&lt;br /&gt;. . .&lt;br /&gt;Went somewhere, don&apos;t remember where. Came back to my place, an apartment or townhouse complex, to hide from Pacino, and to put an end to this once and for all. I forget the logic used in the dream, but my dying was for the better, the greater good, as long as it wasn&apos;t by his hand. I got back and realized noone was there - I hadn&apos;t thought to bring someone along, so I&apos;d have to kill myself. Which I was just about willing to do, then I realized that it might be an unforgivable sin. So I needed to find someone to do it for me, and I wasn&apos;t sure who&apos;d be willing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I stepped back out, heading around behind the place. Ran into Chris/Bernardo, who was coming to my place looking for Yessenia/Consuelo - maybe we were roomates in the dream. I told him she was nowhere to be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was more, but I&apos;ve forgotten by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REALITY CHECK:&lt;br /&gt;Potential spark for the dream - A friend of my brother&apos;s, Ashley recently mentioned that she&apos;d never seen Scarface, which is probably why it was  Pacino&apos;s face here. I mentioned that I&quot;ve got a Scarface sweater, but I&apos;d never seen the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris was Bernardo in the recent production of West Side Story I was in. Yessenia, his girlfriend, was an ensemble Shark. They were the subject of our(the cast&apos;s) teasing, as they&apos;d been hanging out all the time. They eventually made it official and the response from everyone was basically &quot;DUH!&quot; No surprise.</description>
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  <pubDate>Sun, 24 May 2009 07:21:43 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Let the Rain Fall Down</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/48864.html</link>
  <description>Got home, past midnight. Sat in car for a moment, trying not to think. Ha. When has that ever worked for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stepped out of vehicle, walked to door. Stopped for a moment and breathed in some refreshing, cool night air. I looked up, knowing there would be no moon, but still disappointed to find none there. Felt two drops of moisture, one on forehead and one on face. Would it rain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier, while driving, I had willed it to stop raining when drops had threatened the windshield pane. It literally stopped at my command. So I thought this time, &lt;i&gt;why the hell not?&lt;/i&gt; Changed into something I wouldn&apos;t mind getting wet, stepped back outside and willed it to rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn&apos;t work this time. I can apparently stop the rain, but I can&apos;t generate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here in May I&apos;m contemplating April showers.&lt;br /&gt;Not the kind that grows flowers,&lt;br /&gt;But that pains and hearts it sours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Catch ya on the flip side,&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s a rough tide but I can ride, since need be.&lt;br /&gt;I can stand the rain, but can she?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.</description>
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  <category>melancholy</category>
  <lj:music>Amber - 311</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Amber - 311</media:title>
  <lj:mood>melancholy</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 03 Dec 2008 00:31:42 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Love on the Dance Floor</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/48543.html</link>
  <description>Went swing dancing for the first time in maybe a year and a half! And *sigh* it really hit the spot. In a big way. Something happened to me that night, and I don’t think I’ll ever be quite the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a busy weekend. I’ve gone dancing 5 times in the last 4 days. A jazz/hip-hop class on Friday. Then, Saturday morning Jeanine called me. Of course, I went to bed at an ungodly time so I was asleep. Eventually woke up and called back, when she told me about International folk dancing. Someone else had mentioned it to me but I hadn’t yet a chance to go. By the time I spoke to her it was soon to start, so after waiting to get use of the car and grabbing a quick non-breakfast of two waffles, I was off. Got there to find a bunch of old white folks. No surprise, really; I’m used to being the youngest, and the minorit-est; these were simply, on average, older than usual. A visible minority is usually aware, sometimes painfully aware, that they are out-numbered, but I got over any apprehension within minutes after seeing nothing but smiles. Jeanine commented on my lavender hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had fun, doing dances, some circle, some line.  To my surprise they had one in English, hip-hop at that – that ‘don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me’ song. As for international, there was Greek, Romanian, Turkish, and of course Israeli. For those Jeanine and I were the more knowledgeable so we danced in an inner circle where we could direct the others. I got compliments from several, which by now was also no surprise. I was only surprised at how &lt;i&gt;quickly&lt;/i&gt; those compliments came, after a single song, maybe two, the old folks were saying how enjoyable I was to watch, and asking me if I’d already done this before. Jeanine smiled and told them that I’m a quick study. As the one who got me to go, I’d almost say her smile was one of pride, showing off her personal find to the crowd. I’ll elaborate on that in a later post. Long story short, we had some awesome carrot cake, then when it was over I showed Jeanine how to text on her cell phone. This was regarding her ‘indeterminate age.’ I’d joked that she’s showing her age by not knowing how to text. She’s somewhere in her early 50’s, I think, but she refuses to admit it, nor does she look it. As we were leaving she told me about a swing dancing event. Now, just days previous I’d been thinking how much I missed swing, not having done it in a year and a half maybe. Plus it was a chance to dance more with her. And then she told me it was from 8-1am! I said yes IMMEDIATELY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got there around 8.5, an American Legion post, whatever that is. Jeanine called as I parked, saying she’d arrive later. Didn’t matter – the 1st hour was a lesson, and I knew she knew the basics at least. I stepped into a small class, surprised to see the sexes more or less even. In most dancing circles, that’s actually an overage of men. And the lesson really &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; basic, basic East Coast swing. Though it’s been over a year, it was stuff I still remembered. I was patient, though, and participated. Never hurts to practice. The guy leading, Izzy, had the women rotating around a circle of men, so it turned out to be a good way to meet and greet as well. I met a Frenchie who was married to an American, her first time swing dancing. Met one girl who was almost impatient, also didn’t need the lesson, just wanted to get to the dancin’ but was being nice and helping out the beginners. Met a guy who was a beginner, showed him how to do a turn he was having trouble with. I saw two contra dancers and caught up, as I hadn’t been to contra in a few months. Then I met my special lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susan was her name, swing dancing her game. Both by speech and by motion, I found she already knew what she was doing as well, and right off the bat we were taking Izzy’s directions a step beyond the others, more of whom were beginners. It was for only a moment, though. The lesson was over. Went to pay, got some info about SoFlex, a huge  yearly event for swing dancers. The money lady told me that this may be their last year. The swingers at UF go every year and I’d either been too busy or too poor, or not yet hooked on swing dancing for it to appeal. I never even noticed that it was right here, that SoFlex actually stands for &lt;b&gt;South Florida&lt;/b&gt; Lindy Exchange. I’ve definitely gotta go this time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights were dropped, and the music began. I complimented a guy who was also wearing a hat. The dancing got underway! There was probably a collective apprehension in the air this time, first dance of the night, multiple beginners, strangers, etc. Didn’t last, as more people entered and things really got going. I felt the collective nervousness, I think, but personally, I was less apprehensive, actually, then earlier. Once again the only visible minority, which could have been nerve-wracking, but surprisingly, that didn’t even register. The other factors must have been far more important: I was no longer decades-younger than the next-youngest person. And no longer trying a new style, but one that was simply rusty. I must have been at relative ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my first few dances were with the contra dancers and the French lady. Eventually I danced with Susan, don’t remember if she asked me or vice-versa, but it’s encouraged to ‘swing’ both ways, pun intended :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t realize she was special at first. She had only been another dancer on the floor until we danced together. And kept dancing together. And kept dancing together. Her and Jeanine, when eventually she arrived, were the only ones with who I danced strings of several songs in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susan and I, as it turned out, had some kind of crazy chemistry, bringing out the worst in each other. And by the worst, I mean &lt;i&gt;the best&lt;/i&gt;. I swung like never I’d swung before. And she swung right along with me, moving and flowing, coming and going. It literally kept getting better and better as the night wore on. Later I was sneaking in bits of meringue into our dancing, and she went right along with it. I threw in a dash of hip-hop, which might itself have had a pinch of bhangra in it, and she went right along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The compliments started flying from those watching on the sides. Women I approached didn’t just respond, they &lt;b&gt;pre&lt;/b&gt;sponded, standing up before I even got there. This one really tall girl seemed to be eyeing me most of the night with a smile that took up half her face. People were asking how long I’d been doing this. They didn&apos;t expect me to say it’d been a year and a half since last I swung. And even when I had been swinging before, it was pretty erratic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made a birthday circle at one point for this woman turning 30. Turns out it wasn’t just a quirky custom at UF, but wherever people swing. She stood in the middle for a song and people just entered at will, taking turns, each guy literally ‘taking’ her from the last dancer, so that by the end of the song she’s probably danced with them all. At UF I’d seen even girls go in to dance with a girl, or a guy go in to dance with another guy in utter silliness, but no females did this time. When eventually I manned up and stepped in, no one interrupted us for a relatively long while. I even devoted a glance here and there to make sure I wasn’t not-noticing someone’s approach. &lt;i&gt;No one? Alright, let’s just keep going!&lt;/i&gt; I think we had the longest portion of the song in the middle there, time to go from lindy to east coast and some random stuff too. This was in part what caused me to realize that something had changed in me. The circle broke, and later the birthday girl complimented me as well. Even Jeanine, with whom I’ve been dancing for several months now, with whom I’m usually the center of attention, commented on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dancing with Jeanine had upped a level as well. We’ve had great dance chemistry from the start when it came to Israeli, and probably for contra as well. However, something didn’t entirely click in swing; our rhythms seemed to be slightly off of each other. You wouldn’t have been able to tell, though, cause we did some new stuff together too, I still had a blast. Surprised her as well, lifting her clean off the floor once. While dancing with Jeanine, I saw Tina enter. This girl I hadn’t seen in at least 2 years, her and her twin sister part of what had gotten me into swing in the first place. We were shocked, but happy to see each other. A make contra dancer showed up later, as well as another semi-familiar face from Gainesville, this guy Amos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something had “clicked.” Something I’d been holding back Eventually Susan and I were doing all sorts of crazy dips, trying out new things on the spot, much of which worked. We play acted, running, chasing each other, using the whole dance floor as our playground. For one dance, spur of the moment, I decided to be drunk. Ever seen that Drunken Master movie with Jackie Chan? Yep. We staggered and spun, stumbled and rolled, all to the music. Or sometimes forgetting the music, focused only each other. I’m a very coordinated guy, can usually carry on a conversation while dancing, but for once all my attention was on her, on us and our motion. Between songs, though, we spoke: “Thank you, that was so much fun! . . . Well you made it easy, sure helps to have such a great partner. . . . Oh you’re so strong! . . . It was my pleasure,” etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was it my long-awaited return to swing? Was it the familiar faces? The relative youth of this crowd compared to the old(er) folks I was used to dancing with? First time swinging since my last girlfriend, who I met at swing, thereby realeasing some sort of &apos;dance baggage&apos;? Was it Susan? I know I’ve held back before, not doubting my ability per se, but taking it slow, I suppose. Whatever it was, I lost awareness of myself, became all legs and music, arms and dance floor. I forgot for a time where I ended and she began, where she walked and I ran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We couldn’t stay away from each other for more than a few songs, always coming back to each other. One song was particularly old, 50’s-ish, and Susan remarked that back then we wouldn’t have been allowed to dance with each other (she’s white). I replied that I was glad that we were in the here and now instead. We went the distance, from dancing with an entire couple between us, to hand-holding distance, to close position. VERY close, as in, all up on each other. No awkwardness, no apprehension, smiling all the while. I didn’t know this lady from Eve, and yet, it was as if we’d known each other all our lives. There were some strong forces at work here. Then I surprised myself, lifting her and actually doing some of the stuff you see in swing performance videos, swinging her around my hips, an upside-down dip, even a weird one where I spun her behind me, then bent over, letting her just collapse on top of me, her legs off the floor. It wasn’t planned or choreographed. It just happened, and it just made sense. She even dipped me once. “Brings new meaning to swing,” said Jeanine, amused at our antics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was falling under her spell, and she under mine. I’m reminded of that Chris Brown song Forever – “It’s like I waited my whole life for this one night/It&apos;s gon&apos; be me, you, and the dance floor.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeanine left, plenty of work to do. She offered a trip to this Greek place nearby, where they apparently felt it normal to serve both donuts and soup. I would normally jump at the chance, but I couldn’t leave my new other half. Met this guy, we spoke about Yiddish and the history of Haitian Creole. Oh yeah, and he was wearing a Hello Kitty belt. That’s right. And a motorcycle helmet. Awesome. I stayed and danced most of the night away with Susan, until it was eventually her time to go as well, back to Atlanta, Georgia, from whence she came, saying that she probably wouldn’t be around for the next dance next month. We said our sad goodbyes, she gave me a kiss, and she was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing that kinda scares/surprises/fascinates me is, I still remember her face, and her hair color. Usually, I can’t even describe good friends accurately; I don’t remember people’s hair and eye colors. Of you guys reading this, those friends from real life, only msmiriam03 do I think I could describe accurately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when first starting out in swing, looking in awe at the more experienced and wondering how they did it. I realized afterward with a start on this night, I was one of them. I’ve been away from swing dancing for too long. I’ll be back.</description>
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  <category>dancing</category>
  <category>swing dancing</category>
  <lj:music>Chris Brown&apos;s &quot;Forever&quot; in my head</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Chris Brown&apos;s &quot;Forever&quot; in my head</media:title>
  <lj:mood>satisfied</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 06 Nov 2008 09:33:59 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>This changes things</title>
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  <description>I stepped out moments after the presidential announcement to get something out of the car. I stepped out to the sound of fireworks, honking horns, reggaeton riffs going &quot;¡Obama, Obama!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled contentedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This changes things.</description>
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  <category>politics</category>
  <category>race</category>
  <category>the future</category>
  <category>change is good</category>
  <lj:mood>Complex mish-mash but positive</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Mon, 21 Apr 2008 09:13:43 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Le Miserable</title>
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  <description>I understand now the people who say &quot;I&apos;m through with love.&quot; This shit is painful.</description>
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  <category>life sucks</category>
  <lj:mood>dejected</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 28 Nov 2007 11:24:39 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Long time no see, livejournal</title>
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  <description>So much has happened. So much. Don&apos;t have the TIME to put it all down. At least, not now. But I will, eventually. In the meantime, Quick recap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school tried to shut down apartment complex; we beat &apos;em&lt;br /&gt;worked at English Language Institute, teaching English to foreign students&lt;br /&gt;decided to go teach English in Korea after school&lt;br /&gt;later, basically kicked out of complex; homeless for a week and change&lt;br /&gt;started watching Desperate Housewives. Evil, soul-damning show. Recommend it.&lt;br /&gt;Was one of the subjects in an photo/art exhibit&lt;br /&gt;Got to use Spanish on the job&lt;br /&gt;Helped create Foreign Language Organization - helping folks learn languages&lt;br /&gt;Did a couple weddings and graduation party with Bhangra team. Won VISA Talent Show. Twice.&lt;br /&gt;Learned Hindi.  मुझे पसंद है&lt;br /&gt;Girl cheated on me. learned about girls; learned about myself&lt;br /&gt;People suck.&lt;br /&gt;finally had a dream bordering on lucid. last was in 8th grade (ten years ago)&lt;br /&gt;became certified by the Paris Chamber of Commerce to do business in France&lt;br /&gt;Swing dancing, Israeli dancing.&lt;br /&gt;began watching Battlestar Galactica. RECOMMEND IT.&lt;br /&gt;Toying around casually with Japanese, Korean and Tagalog, Hebrew, and others&lt;br /&gt;Graduated from college.&lt;br /&gt;Graduation. = Joy, relief, panic, sadness, excitement, anxiousness&lt;br /&gt;finally flew in a dream&lt;br /&gt;met new girl, day before my birthday, if that means anything. just before leaving town. how soap operatic.&lt;br /&gt;did some more bhangra.&lt;br /&gt;learned a little more about girls&lt;br /&gt;new girl is white, and American, and Catholic. May not bode well for my family&lt;br /&gt;learn-ing a little more about girls&lt;br /&gt;learn-ing a little more about white people&lt;br /&gt;learn-ing a little more about myself&lt;br /&gt;stumbled upon this modeling company who want to give me a year contract; apparently I&apos;m a good-looking guy&lt;br /&gt;no longer going to Korea, at least not yet. gonna do the model thing and see where it takes me&lt;br /&gt;decided to learn Japanese more thoroughly for new girl, who loves it. in other words, nihongo o benkyoo shimasu&lt;br /&gt;now wondering what to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;spreading my fingers out into the world.</description>
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  <lj:music>Zwei - Movie Star</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Zwei - Movie Star</media:title>
  <lj:mood>?</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <pubDate>Sun, 03 Dec 2006 17:59:29 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Sunday, December 3, 2006</title>
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  <description>It&apos;s been a while since I&apos;ve made a dream entry, but that&apos;s not for lack of dreams. In fact, recently I&apos;ve had a flurry of dreams, like every 2 or 3 days. Alot for me, where previously I remembered one every few months. I&apos;ll soon make a tag for dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This most recent was just a few hours ago, maybe 3 or 4am. I was at Archie&apos;s place and fell asleep on their couch for a few minutes. I rushed over to the Arch Lab to put it down, but hten I ended up surfing online for hours. This was one of the cooler dreams I&apos;ve had, though not one of hte happiest. There was kind of a sad atmosphere throughout. It faded away soon after awaking, but it came back a few minutes later while talking Archie. He was explaining something in World of Warcraft to me, and it jogged my memory. When I described the dream to him, he said &quot;man, I don&apos;t have dreams that cool, I usually have - nothing!&quot; Which is what I usually have, but I think, and I told him as much, that because I&apos;d been writing them down recently, that was helping me with dream recall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DREAM:&lt;br /&gt;The world had changed. I knew I wasn&apos;t in my proper place. I got the idea that something had happened to the timeline which had changed the world. I was now in a somewhat desolate place. Or just desolate in that there were few people around. But there was still fauna and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever had happened, most/all adults were gone, killed or something, and only a few bands of survivors remained. I was with a group of young kids, traveling to a sort of meeting place through snow. There we communicated somehow with another group of kids, some type of video conference screen mounted into a wall. We were still &lt;i&gt;out&lt;/i&gt;side, mind you. It was just a standing wall, among desks and other things, you could almost call them ruins, like leftover clues of the society that had once been here.  This must have been a rare power source.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been decided that this group go over to meet with the other group, pool their resources and whatnot; things were slightly better there. It was their leader we were speaking to. Or they were, I should sya, cause I wasn&apos;t quite a member of the group. Although, the interesting thing was, in a way I was. Because the leader of this group was none other than myself. That&apos;s right, a younger version of myself, who had grown up in this world. I regarded him as we headed back to where we&apos;d walked from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were agreed upon, but the group had some melancholy settle upon it. It would be a hard journey, (mostly?) though a cave tunnel, where the kids would be exposed to all kinds of predators, and the cold. Mentally I pictured the tunnel, and it was blanketed in snow. As we headed back to where we had started, I decided to offer up my help to the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking to my counterpart, I offered to stay with them as they traveled to the other place. He knew my situation, and knew that I didn&apos;t quite belong to this world. He might have felt uneasy about my/our mutual double presence, and me - the rare appearance of, I guess, a grown up, or something approximating one. But being in some ways the same person, that would reduce the misstrust-the-grownup mentality, or neutralize it all together. Yeah, he wasn&apos; tworried in that sense. He knew instinctively that I only wanted the best for him and the others, which I did. He may have been a bit fascinated by this situation as well. Ask me how I know all this, I dunno. Maybe I could feel his thoughts, or maybe I was just anticipating what I&apos;d have been thinking, were I in his place. I&apos;d be pretty accurately able to predict, having similar mind patterns. Anyway, coming off that tangent, he knew what I was feeling as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I regarded him as we spoke, and the whole thing kinda amazed me. That I was here, face to face with myself! It was sobering, if that word applies here - it made me think, you know? I was trying to gauge his mind. He was young, that much was obvious, a decade younger. So he&apos;d have less life experience. He wouldn&apos;t necessarily be especially mature, cause I&apos;ve never been especially mature, but growing up in this crappy, ice-aged version of our world, leading this group here, he must have gained maturity that way at an early age. And he&apos;d be intelligent - that much I knew cause, though I&apos;d say I&apos;ve only ever been of average maturity throughout my life, I&apos;ve always been of above-average intelligence, and he&apos;d have the same, which would have helped these kids survive. I was kind of in awe, and kind of strangled by responsibilty for these kids all of a sudden. I mean, if you don&apos;t help yourself, who will you help? Hmm, tht&apos;s not quite right. That&apos;s what I&apos;m thinking now in analysis as I type. More accurately along the lines I thinking in the dream, who &lt;i&gt;better&lt;/i&gt; than yourself to help yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn&apos;t lived in this world, so even as I offered to help, I was worried that I might end up a burden on the group. &quot;How old are you all&quot; I asked at one point, and young George responded somethign along the lines of &quot;ten years younger&quot;(than you). Also, in the back of my head, I wanted out of this world, and I was tyring to figure out ways to do that. He knew this too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hoped I had enough general survival skills, if not skills specific to this place. Or my general world knowledge might come in handy. After a moment of scrambling mentally to think of what I could contribute I offered to carry some extra things (gear/food/supplies), and I think I offered to scout ahead when necessary, I forgot what it was, but it was something I&apos;d be better able to do than them. I knew I was stronger and faster than any of them, which would help me deal with danger that they perhaps could not. They were disadvantaged in that respect: they hadn&apos;t been through puberty yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REALITY CHECK&lt;br /&gt;This doubled presence of myself made this dream unique(I&apos;d had a double in a dream before, but it was an alien replacement, not a true double). It was very interesting, thinking about it afterwards. I&apos;d definitely felt a sense of sadness for these kids, who had noone to help them out, take care of them. Not only sadness, but responsibilty, maybe. Especially towards my younger counterpart. He wasn&apos;t &lt;i&gt;exactly&lt;/i&gt; me, of course; he&apos;d grown up in a different environment. (Or maybe he wasn&apos;t really me at all, but a genetic half-brother? The sense of difference was strong enough for this to have been the case.) Maybe I even felt love for the kid. After all, I knew, or felt I knew, who he was, and his potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting my younger self is something I&apos;ve thought of before, discussed a little with a few friends, something I&apos;d like to do had I the chance. I&apos;ve talked about it with someone within the past week or two. But this was different, in that it wasn&apos;t the same exact me, like simply traveling into the past, but an altered timeline counterpart. I&apos;m very sure it was our timeline altered, not an alternate reality. There is a subtle difference.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/47594.html</comments>
  <lj:music>some Bhangra and some French R&amp;B</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">some Bhangra and some French R&amp;B</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/47174.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 17 Nov 2006 07:07:05 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Choker: Choke-her: Choke . . . her</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/47174.html</link>
  <description>So I ran into Allie two Fridays ago at Gator Nights, with some of her friends. Not sure if that&apos;s the right spelling or not. Cool gal, Allie, and kinda cute too, I must say. But any way, they had been to the CASA Mid-Autumn Moon Festival, which unfortunately I&apos;d missed cause I couldn&apos;t get off from work. I&apos;d just gotten there, anticipating dance practice, but I couldn&apos;t get a hold of any of the Bhangra folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, cute girl - who was &lt;i&gt;wearing a choker&lt;/i&gt;. This was significant especially cause I&apos;d just been talking about this with a (black) girl a few days previous. I&apos;d already figured or anticipated how I&apos;d react to it, but this was confirmation for sure. She was wearing a choker. Now she&apos;s white, you see, - and chokers on white girls don&apos;t bother me, I was now sure of it, and it didn&apos;t bother me then(except maybe as a reminder of what&apos;s next:). But I find it absolutely ugly and distracting on black girls. Repugnant, even, I almost want to say, even though it&apos;s a word I&apos;ve never really used before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three guesses why.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/47174.html</comments>
  <category>black girls in america</category>
  <category>race</category>
  <category>things that pain me</category>
  <category>fashion</category>
  <lj:music>Makeda Remix by Les nubians</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Makeda Remix by Les nubians</media:title>
  <lj:mood>unsure of just HOW to feel</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46895.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 07 Aug 2006 22:54:08 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46895.html</link>
  <description>Dang I need to get back into physics. I&apos;m behind. I am so behind.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46895.html</comments>
  <lj:mood>excited about physics</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>1</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46627.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 10 May 2006 05:50:09 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Dream Wednesday April 26, 2006</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46627.html</link>
  <description>I had a dream when I fell asleep while working on an essay for class. Stupid essays. I didn&apos;t have much time at the time, had to finish my paper, so I typed up only a quick cursory thing of the dream, to fill-in later. But I forgot about it. Now that I&apos;m back to this computer, I don&apos;t remember any details of the dream at all. This was typed very quickly, and in case this description might be able to jog my memory, I haven&apos;t changed any typos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;given somethign abot lady in next room by guy who couldn&apos;t talk to her&lt;br /&gt;vague business connection&lt;br /&gt;she&apos;s crafty or something&lt;br /&gt;mother in bathroom with lady&lt;br /&gt;rug - a jenou&lt;br /&gt;looked in closet by fmaily room, kitchen&lt;br /&gt;kicked thing in kitchen&lt;br /&gt;brother went outside, coming from outside&lt;br /&gt;Ruth soming along&lt;br /&gt;thinking of a name&lt;br /&gt;somethign KRS, or Krys form maplestory&lt;br /&gt;Christ, krist&lt;br /&gt;lady in other room as i stood watching naomie&apos;s room&apos;s tv, not quite payign attention&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(text file created 9:01 am, dream must have been somewhere from 8-9am)</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46627.html</comments>
  <lj:music>Sonic 3 last Boss theme OCremix playing in my head</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Sonic 3 last Boss theme OCremix playing in my head</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>1</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46374.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 08 May 2006 08:43:59 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46374.html</link>
  <description>Enben sa sa ye pou mwen senyè? Èske se on chans pou mwen? Se on sin pou mwen? Pou&apos;m ede moun sa a, ki gen problèm? Pett se yon rekonpans, on retou poum fè, pou lè moun te ede mwen. Si se ça donc, m&apos; pa gen problèm. Ak piano sa, m&apos; ka pratike. A liv sa yo, m&apos; ka aprann.&lt;br /&gt; . . . Mesi Dieu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I know the orthography isn&apos;t quite right, but it&apos;s late, I&apos;m tired and I don&apos;t care all that much right now. It&apos;s still readable.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46374.html</comments>
  <lj:mood>tired</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46182.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 06 May 2006 20:23:01 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46182.html</link>
  <description>Here it is! I&apos;ve been looking for this thing. Of course, function words are the most used in the list. I&apos;d like to see how this changes over time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;form action=&quot;http://hutta.com/lj/toys/livejournal/wordcount/&quot; method=&quot;POST&quot;&gt;&lt;table&gt; &lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#34C2E6&quot;&gt; &lt;td align=&quot;center&quot;&gt; &lt;font color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;funkyjazzmonkey&apos;s Word Usage&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;table&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; i &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(568)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;26.&lt;/b&gt; at &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(63)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;51.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;ll &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(38)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;76.&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; the &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(461)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;27.&lt;/b&gt; so &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(61)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;52.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;ve &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(37)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;77.&lt;/b&gt; are &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;3.&lt;/b&gt; to &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(293)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;28.&lt;/b&gt; been &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(61)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;53.&lt;/b&gt; now &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(37)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;78.&lt;/b&gt; thought &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;4.&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(289)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;29.&lt;/b&gt; her &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(59)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;54.&lt;/b&gt; people &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;79.&lt;/b&gt; see &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;5.&lt;/b&gt; a &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(285)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;30.&lt;/b&gt; be &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(58)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;55.&lt;/b&gt; do &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;80.&lt;/b&gt; said &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;6.&lt;/b&gt; was &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(222)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;31.&lt;/b&gt; as &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(57)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;56.&lt;/b&gt; they &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(34)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;81.&lt;/b&gt; know &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;7.&lt;/b&gt; of &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(218)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;32.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;m &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(54)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;57.&lt;/b&gt; x &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(34)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;82.&lt;/b&gt; being &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;8.&lt;/b&gt; in &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(185)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;33.&lt;/b&gt; about &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(53)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;58.&lt;/b&gt; more &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(33)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;83.&lt;/b&gt; can &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(24)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;9.&lt;/b&gt; that &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(182)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;34.&lt;/b&gt; like &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(53)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;59.&lt;/b&gt; then &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(33)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;84.&lt;/b&gt; where &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(24)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;10.&lt;/b&gt; it &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(171)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;35.&lt;/b&gt; think &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(52)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;60.&lt;/b&gt; an &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;85.&lt;/b&gt; remember &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(24)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;11.&lt;/b&gt; but &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(146)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;36.&lt;/b&gt; we &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(52)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;61.&lt;/b&gt; don&apos;t &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;86.&lt;/b&gt; only &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;12.&lt;/b&gt; my &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(136)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;37.&lt;/b&gt; all &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(50)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;62.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;d &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;87.&lt;/b&gt; into &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;13.&lt;/b&gt; have &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(129)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;38.&lt;/b&gt; out &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(49)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;63.&lt;/b&gt; back &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;88.&lt;/b&gt; good &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;14.&lt;/b&gt; this &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(104)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;39.&lt;/b&gt; one &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(48)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;64.&lt;/b&gt; when &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;89.&lt;/b&gt; am &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;15.&lt;/b&gt; for &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(91)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;40.&lt;/b&gt; were &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(45)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;65.&lt;/b&gt; too &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;90.&lt;/b&gt; myself &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;16.&lt;/b&gt; me &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(88)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;41.&lt;/b&gt; had &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(44)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;66.&lt;/b&gt; thing &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;91.&lt;/b&gt; get &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;17.&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(83)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;42.&lt;/b&gt; some &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(44)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;67.&lt;/b&gt; cause &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(30)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;92.&lt;/b&gt; down &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;18.&lt;/b&gt; just &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(82)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;43.&lt;/b&gt; up &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(43)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;68.&lt;/b&gt; no &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(29)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;93.&lt;/b&gt; someone &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(21)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;19.&lt;/b&gt; she &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(80)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;44.&lt;/b&gt; it&apos;s &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(41)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;69.&lt;/b&gt; than &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(29)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;94.&lt;/b&gt; how &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(21)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;20.&lt;/b&gt; is &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(74)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;45.&lt;/b&gt; from &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(41)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;70.&lt;/b&gt; which &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(29)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;95.&lt;/b&gt; things &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(20)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;21.&lt;/b&gt; you &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(72)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;46.&lt;/b&gt; he &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(40)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;71.&lt;/b&gt; who &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(28)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;96.&lt;/b&gt; even &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(20)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;22.&lt;/b&gt; there &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(71)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;47.&lt;/b&gt; something &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(40)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;72.&lt;/b&gt; time &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(28)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;97.&lt;/b&gt; your &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(20)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;23.&lt;/b&gt; with &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(71)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;48.&lt;/b&gt; if &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(40)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;73.&lt;/b&gt; real &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(27)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;98.&lt;/b&gt; them &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(20)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;24.&lt;/b&gt; or &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(69)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;49.&lt;/b&gt; what &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(39)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;74.&lt;/b&gt; maybe &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(27)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;99.&lt;/b&gt; place &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(20)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;25.&lt;/b&gt; not &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(69)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;50.&lt;/b&gt; dream &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(39)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;75.&lt;/b&gt; didn&apos;t &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(27)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;100.&lt;/b&gt; could &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(19)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td align=&quot;center&quot;&gt; Username: &lt;input type=&quot;text&quot; name=&quot;username&quot; value=&quot;funkyjazzmonkey&quot; size=&quot;8&quot;&gt; &lt;input type=&quot;submit&quot; value=&quot;Analyze&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;font size=&quot;-2&quot;&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://hutta.com/lj/toys/livejournal/wordcount/&quot;&gt;Word Count&lt;/a&gt; by &lt;a href=&quot;http://livejournal.com/users/hutta&quot;&gt;Hutta&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/form&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/46182.html</comments>
  <lj:music>Anas playing You Give Love a Bad Name in the background</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Anas playing You Give Love a Bad Name in the background</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
</item>
<item>
  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45947.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 06 May 2006 20:14:19 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45947.html</link>
  <description>So she tells me she loves me, and yet she proceeds to go out with another guy. Am I the only one who thinks this doesn&apos;t make sense? Sigh . . .</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45947.html</comments>
  <lj:mood>melancholy</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
</item>
<item>
  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45588.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 18 Apr 2006 10:14:36 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45588.html</link>
  <description>So I&apos;m headed back from Hilda&apos;s place, moping slightly. I see Shaun and Omar coming up. I smile. I love that kid. I smile just looking at him. We went upto Atlanta, the Bhangra Club, and you should&apos;ve seen this kid, bobbing his head like nobody&apos;s business, just actin&apos; a fool on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;than I pass this girl on the sidewalk. She&apos;s standing still, engrossed in something. I have to pass her and as I usually do, I attempt to make myself as unthreatening as possible, even looking down as I pass. But I was already doing that - the aformentioned moping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl looks up and stops me, asking me for a cigarette. When I chuckle and tell her I don&apos;t have one, she asks my name and asks where I live. I didn&apos;t say exactly where, just that I was near. Can&apos;t be too careful, you know. She seemed kinda hippie-ish. Barefoot, longish hair.(white girl) I ask her back and she says she lives in her van with her friend. We both chuckle and split up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an amusing encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today another girl called out to me from a passing car. Didn&apos;t even know who she was, but she recognized me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also stopped by Martina&apos;s place, story later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how often has this happened? Recently, when I was feeling sad, then saw someone who put a smile on my face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; . . and it makes me wonder, as corny as it may be . . . maybe it&apos;s just all about the people. the little people, the poor folk. Us. the students. The young, the disenfranchised. I wonder if she was a hippie, or just poor. Makes me want to do things. for the people. Things do need to be done.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45588.html</comments>
  <category>the future</category>
  <lj:mood>contemplative</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
</item>
<item>
  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45358.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 08 Jan 2006 00:26:38 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>New Year Comment Statistics</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45358.html</link>
  <description>Here it goes, the comment statistics, I&apos;ll put this and the word count statistics together in the memories to see how they change over time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table&gt;
Total comments: 253
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_funkyjazzmonkey&apos; lj:user=&apos;funkyjazzmonkey&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;funkyjazzmonkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;350&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;79&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;2&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_princessmd41&apos; lj:user=&apos;princessmd41&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://princessmd41.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://princessmd41.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;princessmd41&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;275&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;31&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_sparklysara&apos; lj:user=&apos;sparklysara&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://sparklysara.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://sparklysara.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;sparklysara&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;226&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;17&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;4&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_thoughtdevil&apos; lj:user=&apos;thoughtdevil&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://thoughtdevil.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://thoughtdevil.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;thoughtdevil&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;226&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;17&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;5&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_asuperstollar&apos; lj:user=&apos;asuperstollar&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://asuperstollar.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://asuperstollar.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;asuperstollar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;222&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;16&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;6&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_amberae&apos; lj:user=&apos;amberae&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://amberae.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://amberae.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;amberae&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;216&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;15&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;7&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_alym1007&apos; lj:user=&apos;alym1007&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap; text-decoration: line-through;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://alym1007.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://alym1007.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;alym1007&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;192&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;11&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;8&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_lizzydragon84&apos; lj:user=&apos;lizzydragon84&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lizzydragon84.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lizzydragon84.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;lizzydragon84&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;176&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;9&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;9&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_respirelavie&apos; lj:user=&apos;respirelavie&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap; text-decoration: line-through;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://respirelavie.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://respirelavie.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;respirelavie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;166&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;8&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;10&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_little_rebbie&apos; lj:user=&apos;little_rebbie&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://little-rebbie.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://little-rebbie.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;little_rebbie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;155&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;7&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;11&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_xinfinityx&apos; lj:user=&apos;xinfinityx&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://xinfinityx.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://xinfinityx.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;xinfinityx&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;155&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;7&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;12&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_nasaca&apos; lj:user=&apos;nasaca&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap; text-decoration: line-through;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://nasaca.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://nasaca.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;nasaca&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;111&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;4&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;13&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_rhomtyr&apos; lj:user=&apos;rhomtyr&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap; text-decoration: line-through;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://rhomtyr.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://rhomtyr.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;rhomtyr&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;111&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;4&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;14&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_mistabubbaloo&apos; lj:user=&apos;mistabubbaloo&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap; text-decoration: line-through;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://mistabubbaloo.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://mistabubbaloo.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;mistabubbaloo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;111&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;4&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;15&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_lairecay&apos; lj:user=&apos;lairecay&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lairecay.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lairecay.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;lairecay&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;88&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;16&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_reve119&apos; lj:user=&apos;reve119&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://reve119.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://reve119.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;reve119&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;88&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;17&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_reeshell&apos; lj:user=&apos;reeshell&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://reeshell.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://reeshell.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;reeshell&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;88&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;18&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_always_changing&apos; lj:user=&apos;always_changing&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://always-changing.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://always-changing.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;always_changing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;55&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;2&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;19&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_lovely_shukes&apos; lj:user=&apos;lovely_shukes&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lovely-shukes.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lovely-shukes.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;lovely_shukes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;55&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;2&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;20&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_lunaticmalk&apos; lj:user=&apos;lunaticmalk&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lunaticmalk.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lunaticmalk.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;lunaticmalk&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;55&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;2&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;21&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_ljlia&apos; lj:user=&apos;ljlia&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://ljlia.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://ljlia.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ljlia&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;22&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_mrshannibal&apos; lj:user=&apos;mrshannibal&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://mrshannibal.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://mrshannibal.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;mrshannibal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;23&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_turtlebem&apos; lj:user=&apos;turtlebem&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://turtlebem.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://turtlebem.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;turtlebem&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;24&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_themissfatbooty&apos; lj:user=&apos;themissfatbooty&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://themissfatbooty.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://themissfatbooty.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;themissfatbooty&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;25&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_thepreciouss&apos; lj:user=&apos;thepreciouss&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://thepreciouss.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://thepreciouss.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;thepreciouss&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;26&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_sacundim&apos; lj:user=&apos;sacundim&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://sacundim.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://sacundim.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;sacundim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;27&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_lilmisother&apos; lj:user=&apos;lilmisother&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap; text-decoration: line-through;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lilmisother.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://lilmisother.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;lilmisother&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;28&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_mrtoughill&apos; lj:user=&apos;mrtoughill&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://mrtoughill.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://mrtoughill.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;mrtoughill&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;29&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span class=&apos;ljuser  ljuser-name_yareach&apos; lj:user=&apos;yareach&apos; style=&apos;white-space: nowrap;&apos;&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://yareach.livejournal.com/profile&apos;&gt;&lt;img src=&apos;http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif&apos; alt=&apos;[info]&apos; width=&apos;17&apos; height=&apos;17&apos; style=&apos;vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&apos;http://yareach.livejournal.com/&apos;&gt;&lt;b&gt;yareach&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://webpages.charter.net/mikenolan/bar.png&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;10&quot; /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Generated using &lt;a href=&quot;http://mpn.ath.cx/ljstats&quot;&gt;ljstats&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45358.html</comments>
  <category>self stats</category>
  <lj:music>Sonic the Hedgehog 3 SonikElektronik from OC ReMix</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Sonic the Hedgehog 3 SonikElektronik from OC ReMix</media:title>
  <lj:mood>still cold</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>1</lj:reply-count>
</item>
<item>
  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45066.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 08 Jan 2006 00:17:38 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>New Year Word Count</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45066.html</link>
  <description>Well so much for my triumphant return. I&apos;m back in Gainesville now. couldn&apos;t do much online at home cause the computer was acting up. Seriously actin&apos; a fool. I did my best to debug it, hope it&apos;s cooperating for my siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally found that word count thing. Here it is, and I&apos;ll look for the comment count thing too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;form action=&quot;http://hutta.com/lj/toys/livejournal/wordcount&quot; method=&quot;POST&quot;&gt;&lt;table&gt; &lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#34C2E6&quot;&gt; &lt;td align=&quot;center&quot;&gt; &lt;font color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;funkyjazzmonkey&apos;s Word Usage&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;table&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; i &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(589)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;26.&lt;/b&gt; at &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(72)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;51.&lt;/b&gt; people &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(39)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;76.&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(27)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; the &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(508)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;27.&lt;/b&gt; we &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(68)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;52.&lt;/b&gt; dream &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(39)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;77.&lt;/b&gt; real &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(27)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;3.&lt;/b&gt; to &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(337)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;28.&lt;/b&gt; so &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(67)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;53.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;ve &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(37)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;78.&lt;/b&gt; than &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(27)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;4.&lt;/b&gt; a &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(325)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;29.&lt;/b&gt; like &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(64)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;54.&lt;/b&gt; x &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;79.&lt;/b&gt; can &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;5.&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(318)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;30.&lt;/b&gt; been &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(61)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;55.&lt;/b&gt; more &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;80.&lt;/b&gt; maybe &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;6.&lt;/b&gt; of &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(240)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;31.&lt;/b&gt; think &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(55)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;56.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;ll &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;81.&lt;/b&gt; into &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(26)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;7.&lt;/b&gt; was &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(239)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;32.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;m &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(55)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;57.&lt;/b&gt; then &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;82.&lt;/b&gt; said &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;8.&lt;/b&gt; in &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(215)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;33.&lt;/b&gt; as &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(55)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;58.&lt;/b&gt; now &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(35)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;83.&lt;/b&gt; only &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;9.&lt;/b&gt; that &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(188)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;34.&lt;/b&gt; be &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(55)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;59.&lt;/b&gt; don&apos;t &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(34)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;84.&lt;/b&gt; good &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;10.&lt;/b&gt; it &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(183)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;35.&lt;/b&gt; some &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(55)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;60.&lt;/b&gt; do &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(33)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;85.&lt;/b&gt; didn&apos;t &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;11.&lt;/b&gt; but &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(154)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;36.&lt;/b&gt; out &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(55)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;61.&lt;/b&gt; back &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;86.&lt;/b&gt; being &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;12.&lt;/b&gt; my &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(142)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;37.&lt;/b&gt; her &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(54)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;62.&lt;/b&gt; i&apos;d &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;87.&lt;/b&gt; remember &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;13.&lt;/b&gt; have &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(135)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;38.&lt;/b&gt; were &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(52)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;63.&lt;/b&gt; too &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;88.&lt;/b&gt; see &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(25)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;14.&lt;/b&gt; this &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(113)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;39.&lt;/b&gt; one &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(52)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;64.&lt;/b&gt; thing &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(32)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;89.&lt;/b&gt; get &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;15.&lt;/b&gt; for &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(98)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;40.&lt;/b&gt; about &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(51)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;65.&lt;/b&gt; an &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;90.&lt;/b&gt; guy &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(23)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;16.&lt;/b&gt; me &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(95)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;41.&lt;/b&gt; from &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(51)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;66.&lt;/b&gt; when &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;91.&lt;/b&gt; would &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;17.&lt;/b&gt; with &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(88)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;42.&lt;/b&gt; he &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(50)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;67.&lt;/b&gt; time &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(31)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;92.&lt;/b&gt; down &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;18.&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(87)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;43.&lt;/b&gt; all &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(50)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;68.&lt;/b&gt; who &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(30)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;93.&lt;/b&gt; your &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;19.&lt;/b&gt; just &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(86)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;44.&lt;/b&gt; had &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(50)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;69.&lt;/b&gt; are &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(30)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;94.&lt;/b&gt; where &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;20.&lt;/b&gt; you &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(82)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;45.&lt;/b&gt; up &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(45)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;70.&lt;/b&gt; them &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(30)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;95.&lt;/b&gt; am &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;21.&lt;/b&gt; or &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(79)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;46.&lt;/b&gt; what &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(43)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;71.&lt;/b&gt; no &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(29)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;96.&lt;/b&gt; other &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;22.&lt;/b&gt; is &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(79)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;47.&lt;/b&gt; they &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(42)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;72.&lt;/b&gt; which &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(29)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;97.&lt;/b&gt; how &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;23.&lt;/b&gt; there &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(78)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;48.&lt;/b&gt; it&apos;s &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(42)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;73.&lt;/b&gt; cause &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(28)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;98.&lt;/b&gt; got &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(22)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;24.&lt;/b&gt; not &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(78)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;49.&lt;/b&gt; if &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(41)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;74.&lt;/b&gt; thought &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(28)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;99.&lt;/b&gt; someone &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(21)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;25.&lt;/b&gt; she &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(72)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;50.&lt;/b&gt; something &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(40)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;75.&lt;/b&gt; know &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(28)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;b&gt;100.&lt;/b&gt; myself &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;(21)&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td align=&quot;center&quot;&gt; Username: &lt;input type=&quot;text&quot; name=&quot;username&quot; value=&quot;funkyjazzmonkey&quot; size=&quot;8&quot;&gt; &lt;input type=&quot;submit&quot; value=&quot;Analyze&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;font size=&quot;-2&quot;&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://hutta.com/lj/toys/livejournal/wordcount&quot;&gt;Word Count&lt;/a&gt; by &lt;a href=&quot;http://livejournal.com/users/hutta&quot;&gt;Hutta&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/form&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45066.html</comments>
  <category>self stats</category>
  <lj:music>Mardey Seetiyan - North American Bhangra Connection</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Mardey Seetiyan - North American Bhangra Connection</media:title>
  <lj:mood>cold</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
</item>
<item>
  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45020.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 20 Dec 2005 06:48:38 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>I&apos;m baaaaaack . . .</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45020.html</link>
  <description>Hey all. Wow, I haven&apos;t made an entry all semester. And I&apos;ve read even less (basically not at all). But I&apos;m back now. That is to say, I&apos;m at home for the break and boredom would otherwise kill me. I have been meaning to make all sorts of updates, especially dream updates, but I just never got around to it. But I&apos;m back now, with all sorts of juicy updates for my dedicated fans out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what a hell of a semester it&apos;s been! And the summer too. Pure madness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my friends out here in LJ land who I&apos;ve neglected, I&apos;ll be reading your entries again and making comments on your own juicy updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And how could I have forgotten my LJ-versary? I&apos;ve now had this LJ for jsut over two years. I need to find that word usage statistics program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See Sonic run. Run Sonic run!</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/45020.html</comments>
  <lj:music>brother playing R&amp;B mix in the background</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">brother playing R&amp;B mix in the background</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>1</lj:reply-count>
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<item>
  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/44591.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 30 Aug 2005 09:36:31 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Gravitaional manipulation</title>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/44591.html</link>
  <description>The problem with gravity is that it&apos;s the only force we have experience. Conscious, everyday experience. I mean, ok, we have experience with the electromagnetic force, but to study that you need apparatus. You need extra things, high tech, to find out that visible light is the same as gamma, radio, and whatever else rays. But gravity? Just pick up a rock and toss it into the air. And there you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course we&apos;ve got experience with the weak and strong nuclear forces too, but not consciously. I can&apos;t feel inside me the protons and the electrons attracting each other, or the gluons holding them and the various quarks together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it&apos;s real surprising that gravity turns out to be the weakest force. And not just slightly, but way. It&apos;s mad weak. They say that to create an atom where the subatomic particles attract each other gravitationally with the same strength that protons and electrons attract each other, you&apos;d need to use an atom the size of the universe itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot the exact numbers, but I think I do recall the gravitational constant being way smaller than whatever numbers we used elsewhere. I&apos;ll check on it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; *&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; * &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; *&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with being male is that you don&apos;t know when to turn it off. I spend the day playing a careful game of . . .I dunno what, but it&apos;s pretty damn careful. For instance, I&apos;ll sometimes see that a female is uncomfortable, and I&apos;ll try to make myself seem as harmless as possible, crack a joke, talk about something nerdy. Earlier today, I was reading Wendy&apos;s &lt;i&gt;Cosmo&lt;/i&gt; magazine and there was a woman who was saying &quot; . .  . Sometimes I do want my man to make passionate love to me. But sometimes I want my man to just grab me, rip off my clothes, and have my way with me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; . . . .&lt;br /&gt;So when I&apos;m with a female friend at night, she&apos;ll often be grateful that I&apos;m there. That&apos;s a case where she&apos;s acknowledging my manhood. And it&apos;s a good thing. Of course, that implies that the expected danger is from another man. Like when I&apos;m walking alone, then I can&apos;t be a man, cause people are afraid of them. Especially with me being a black guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I&apos;m sorta guilty of the same. Even I&apos;ll tense up when passing some random guy in the middle of the night. But usually not when passig women. Guys, when was the last time you felt worried for your safety when a woman approached you at night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least they&apos;re all the same to me, the males, black and white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this leads some, especially some females, to lead lives of fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the Kash &apos;N Karry plaza, Wendy and I, to return this Israeli movie she&apos;d rented. It was night and she&apos;d heard the place was a little iffy at night, but of course she had no concrete information, not even a real story of somethign that happened; only the suggestion that things might happen there. She was afraid to step out of the car to take the video into the store(she didn&apos;t say that but it was obvious, he heart is al over her sleeve), so she drove up to curb and asked me to take it. I noticed specifically that she said somethign like &quot;You can just run it in and run out,&quot; something which coming from anyone else would just be an innocent use of the word run, implying that there wouldn&apos;t be need to dilly-dally and stopping the car at the curb is the efficient thing to do. In her case however, she meant run. I took the tape, walking calmly to the store, looking for the outside drop box. When I came back to the car, I realized that there was a perfect opportunity to throw away the trash I had from wherever we went earlier, I forget. Plus it&apos;d be a chance to test just how scared she was, putting her in a (controlled) scary situation, also in the hopes that if she was prone to freaking out, she&apos;d maybe learn, just a little on a subconcious level when nothing happened that life doesn&apos;t have to be so scary. Quite a thought process, I know, for something as simple as taking out the trash, an action would take no less than 10 seconds anyway. I think all this ran through my head in about a second, and I did it.* Now writing it, sounds a bit manipulative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all I did was take the trash out, which was just walking back towards the front of the store, but not all the way, and tossing it into a trash can. The whole thing took about 8 seconds, no joke. And she freaked out. She freaked out. She didn&apos;t just freak out, she froke, or fraked, or something. She yelled &quot;George!&quot; and clutched the steering wheel. I pretended that I was already out of earshot, through away the treash adn got back into the car. She was visibly terrified. her face was getting red, looked like tears were forthcoming. I pretended to be baffled, asking her what&apos;s wrong, did something happen, etc. I was trying to play off the event, to emphasize that there actually was no event; she was creating the whole thing. Until she finally mumbled something about being alone in the car. I was annoyed but tried not to show it. I&apos;m a very patient and accepting person, but I don&apos;t have much patience for utter silliness. I was never any more than a yard or two away rom the vehicle. And I said &quot;You do realize that I looked around before moving. don&apos;t you think I&apos;d watch out for anything? I&apos;m always aware of my surroundings. I knew that noone was around.&quot; And there really was not a soul out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see, now I&apos;m just rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* now it should go without saying that I&apos;d already looked around and checked the surroundings. I&apos;m no fool. If you know me you know I&apos;m paranoid enough as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ve got a headache and I&apos;m tired, so I&apos;m not even going to check for typos.</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/44591.html</comments>
  <category>girls</category>
  <category>ramble</category>
  <lj:mood>tired with the worlds stupidit</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>3</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/44430.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 24 Jul 2005 10:50:08 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/44430.html</link>
  <description>What is it that keeps us awake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it that brings us back from sleep? Back from the dead, in a way. It’s like that, isn’t it? With the loss of conscious thought, aren’t you in a sense dead, to return to the world in the morning? I just finished watching I, Robot. As the credits started scrolling, I lay back my head and began to lose conscious thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts were still going through my head as I dozed off. It was simply that I wasn’t consciously monitoring these thoughts. They were probably completely at random, at the mercy of chance as to which thought followed which. Then one of the thoughts presented itself as having far more priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was that these thoughts, random isolated strings, were just twisting through my peripheral consciousness, if you will, as I fell asleep. Each thought has an accompanying priority. Use any scale you wish, I suppose, yellow/red alert, defcon status, terror alert level, what have you. Most of these thoughts were low-level priority, things that I can/could come back to later, at my leisure. Things which I’d be sure to think about again sometime in the next couple days. Maybe even things important in the scope of the next 24 hours, but for the moment dismissible because in the natural course of events I’d come across them again anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then things of immediate, absolute importance. Like, for instance, if I realized I was falling asleep in the girls room on a school trip where no guys were allowed in the girls room (and vice versa), or if I suddenly remembered that I have an online quiz due in two hours, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even remember for sure what it was that I remembered. But this thought yanked me out of near-sleep. Of course, I don’t think you can ever be aware that you’re losing awareness. I think it can happen pretty quickly. But at that moment, I certainly became aware of having lost my awareness. It was kinda crazy, like coming up for air. As awareness returned, and with it conscious thought and a conscious record of my thoughts, I could almost feel myself coming back, as though I’d been away. It felt like I was pulling up out of a tunnel/ditch/hole in the ground. I was rising up out of a tunnel of consciousness, trying to quickly grasp, before I lose it, the sensation, the feeling, open it and explore it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those minor ruminations flew away. Even the thought that brought me back soon vanished. I think it was just that I remembered where I was - about to fall asleep on a couch with the lights and tv on, Wendy also fallen asleep next to me, when there were perfectly good beds upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*						*					*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s this freaky music playing on the tv behind me now, the menu screen sounds of the I, Robot DVD, and they’re really frickin’ me out. But I left it on purpose. Why do we do these things to ourselves?</description>
  <comments>http://funkyjazzmonkey.livejournal.com/44430.html</comments>
  <category>overthinking</category>
  <lj:music>Romanian numa numa song playing in my head</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Romanian numa numa song playing in my head</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>2</lj:reply-count>
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