<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332</id><updated>2011-07-30T21:23:56.277-07:00</updated><category term='Zoo'/><category term='firsts'/><category term='Content'/><category term='unfairness'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='Frustrated teenageness'/><category term='Dublin'/><category term='crisis of faith'/><category term='presents'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='family'/><category term='After-death'/><category term='trifle'/><category term='Coldplay'/><category term='weird'/><category term='Bray'/><category term='Twilight'/><category term='ctyi tired'/><title type='text'>Oreo Diaries ^^</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-8388877850472376607</id><published>2010-01-07T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T15:53:28.364-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='presents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trifle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='firsts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>First Christmas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;So&lt;/span&gt; this Christmas has been one of many firsts. It's odd to think, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;each year at the same time, we have done the same thing for so long,&lt;/span&gt; and really rather &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;enjoyed&lt;/span&gt; it... and how &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one event can upset these traditions totally&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This was the&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; first&lt;/span&gt; year I didn't write my list for Santa. Not because I wasn't into the whole Christmas thing, but there was nothing I wanted... I didn't feel like making my parents go out and buy me things I didn't need, wouldn't use, and really couldn't afford. These days who has the money to waste?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Christmas morning was the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; time I didn't wake my brothers up in the small hours of the morning to go downstairs to discover what Santa may have brought... but was in fact awoken at 6:30 by them... I wanted to go back to sleep... but I got up for their sakes... On our way down, Mylo bypassed my Dad, so for the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; time it wasn't Dad who "Checked to make sure Santa actually came" which was weird... the end of an era I thought...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Of course, even though I hadn't asked for anything, I still got presents, and I must admit I was surprised. It was the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; time I had gotten really girly presents for Christmas. Last year, it probably would have bothered me, but it didn't. 2009 must have been my year for growing up, eh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;After present time, we didn't call... Every Christmas after we'd woken up... (excuse me while I get a bit tearie-eyed here), usually we would call our Auntie Mar-Mar. We'd try get up earlier to catch her out sometimes, but she was always up awaiting our call... We would tell her all about our presents, exchange Christmas wishes, and tell her how much we looked forward to seeing her later that day... but this year there was no call... our &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;first &lt;/span&gt;year without her TO call... It really left quite a considerable hole in the morning, one I didn't know how to fill... so in true teenage fashion, for the&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; first &lt;/span&gt;Christmas ever, I went back to bed for a few hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;We left the house late on our trip to Dublin. We usually left earlier so we could visit Mar-Mars house. Every Christmas morning it was a hub of activity! She'd have barrels of whatever your poison was. The men sat around the kitchen table exchanging small talk, while the women and children sat in the comfort of the sitting room, kids running in and out of the parlour. It was the place where you could see all of those relations you only see once a year and they'd brag about all of the things their children did that year, about what they'd bought, and you'd sit there pretending to care... All the while Mar-Mar would potter about, avoiding listening to any of that banter and occasionally winking at me as if to say "haha, I don't have to listen to that any more, they think I'm an aul wan!" But we didn't have that this year...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;At 2-ish we arrived at my nans, dinner time, yum! She always makes the best spread, and always has something different for me and her! (She's used my becoming a vegetarian as an excuse to give herself and myself better food than everyone else =P). One thing was to be different this year for dinner. Y'see... every year for Christmas Auntie M. always made a trifle for my Grandad for dessert. A &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;small gesture&lt;/span&gt; you'd think... but just before Christmas he told my Nan it would be his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; Christmas without... without a trifle AND without her. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I knew how much something small like that would mean to him.&lt;/span&gt; And so, being the little treasure I am, arrived on Christmas and presented him with my very own trifle! "Oh wow, big deal?" I can hear you say, but in a tough year, with all the problems my family has faced, I could see this one small gesture made it all better for him. He seemed finally... happy? Happy that someone had thought to continue at least one of her traditions, keep her alive in that way...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;My Auntie Maura was awesome. There is no other word to describe her, but awesome. And her loss left a big hole, especially in Christmas. But they say with every loss there's a gain and at 9pm that night we met our gain for the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; time. Baby Amy Margaret, the first girl Grandchild born since myself. The most adorable bundle, with the reddest, crankiest face I have ever seen, but adorable nonetheless. My new competition for attention haha.. But with her I didn't just gain one cousin, because although this is my Uncle Paddys first kidlet, it's not Mary-Claires. We gained a whole new family!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/S0ZwRF2pXfI/AAAAAAAAACY/1KKs14lUdmk/s1600-h/the+girls%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/S0ZwRF2pXfI/AAAAAAAAACY/1KKs14lUdmk/s320/the+girls%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424146240145808882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;It's not the best picture, I'll be the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; to admit. But I &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; it. The new trinity of the Tyrrell clan, Robyn, me and Amy. The Girls, or as Robyn said to me, the new bestest cousins! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;So for a day that began lacking in hope or expectation, it ended with plenty! While we may not have had the same traditions, we may not have had Mar-Mar to share it with, we got something new. We began new traditions. We gained more family. We got to give the day that's been the same for years before I was even born a bit of a revamp. And sure *cheesy line* we know Mar-Mar was obviously there with us in spirit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-8388877850472376607?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/8388877850472376607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2010/01/first-christmas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/8388877850472376607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/8388877850472376607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2010/01/first-christmas.html' title='First Christmas.'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/S0ZwRF2pXfI/AAAAAAAAACY/1KKs14lUdmk/s72-c/the+girls%21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-5582463898495188666</id><published>2009-08-03T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T14:01:40.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>♫ I'm not gonna brew you a love potion ♫</title><content type='html'>20:55, not even an hour after seeing Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Many people had seen it before me, and many people had slated the movie in it's entirety. I've read terrible reviews, and my expectations were quite low for this film... but boy, was I pleasantly surprised!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Everyone complains about how these pictures never live up to the books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;, and about how much they change, or what important parts they've left out, but I simply disagree. Films and books are different. Books are filled with so much detail, and have no time-frame in which the reader needs to finish. Films however, have only two or three hours to tell a tale. They also have to be extraordinary enough to appeal to movie-goers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;It is all about telling a story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;, and making money from it at the end of the day! It isn't about sticking to the books exactly, and putting every single little detail you think they should into it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There are some times you need to sit back, ignore the books, ignore your critical side, and just enjoy the movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;After pushing that side away, and shushing the person beside me who kept saying "Awh it's terrible, you're gonna hate it!" I was immediately engrossed in this magical new adventure Mr. Potter was being taken on. The special fx stunned me! I thought they were ridiculously awesome! As for the demolition of the Weasley Abode- I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;KNOW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; it wasn't in the book, but I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; don't care!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; It was a totally unexpected twist, that was used to shock the avid Potter readers! It gave the movie it's own voice! It said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;"Yes, we may be based on a book, but we have our own twists and turns and aren't going to turn into a predictable pile of mediocrity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Helena Bonham Carter's performance was amazing, as usual. However I was slightly bothered by her tendency to sniff peoples shoulders... but it all just added to the character of Bellatrix. She was enchanting... for a baddie of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;A favourite point in the film, (also quite sad when Aragog dies), was when Harry took the Felix Felicitus potion. It was nice to see him free from all the angst and pressure. Twas Made of win ^^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;After getting over the excitement of seeing the Cliffs of Mohair, finding a horcrux, and returning to the castle, came the much dreaded scene... The murder of Dumbledore brought a tear to my eye (or at least made me feel a tad emotional). It really was touching, and I knew it was going to happen. I remember feeling exactly like that when I read the books, and it felt like I was losing Albie all over again. So I applaud all involved in the film for that moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I know I could write more, but in actual fact I'd rather not. I could criticise, as I myself do have complaints, changes, and book-related things to write about, but I won't. I won't because no matter how much we criticise it, it won't change it. It will still be the same film, so why not just enjoy it?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-5582463898495188666?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/5582463898495188666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-not-gonna-brew-you-love-potion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/5582463898495188666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/5582463898495188666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-not-gonna-brew-you-love-potion.html' title='♫ I&apos;m not gonna brew you a love potion ♫'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-2244127789354551432</id><published>2009-07-12T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T18:02:24.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alienation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The one place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; relaxed was there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The one thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; looked forward to was that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The one group&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; of people I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; felt I could trust was them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The one group&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; of people I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; felt I could rely on was them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; had faith...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; thought I would feel so outside... so forgotten about...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;font-size:130%;" &gt;Disappointedly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt; I was hugged, not warmly as you'd expect from friends... Disappointed it was me they had to hug, before they could get to the people they actually wanted to see... Then grouped together, they engaged inconversation and in- jokes leaving me and the others who hadn't been with them everyday to the side...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;They made plans to visit each other, and visit other people, again leaving us to shrug at each other, thinking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"why did we bother, why would we think things would ever be the same?"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Reality hit me, when it was said "You and you have to come and stay with me... and like, others" the last part of which was thrown in after realising there were others sitting with them. I realised after these people being invited into my home, the act was not going to be returned. I was simply going to be invited because I was there at the time, not because I was still part of them...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;"It's great the way it all came together in our last year" was the point it really hit home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I wasn't there, I wasn't there for the new bonding, the new relationships, the new in-jokes, so I had nothing to offer to the group anymore, I had nothing to talk about because they wanted to talk about nothing else...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Then off they went on another little adventure, with a half-hearted invitation thrown my way... but I couldn't do it, feeling enough of a 3rd wheel as it was... What would be the point? I had nothing to gain.. And now, now I'm finding it difficult to talk to anyone of them...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;It was the first time I'd ever been home early from town, without being called.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Weeks other news:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Fell down the stairs, think something in my back is now displaced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Angie passed away, miss him so much =,[ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-2244127789354551432?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/2244127789354551432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/07/alienation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/2244127789354551432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/2244127789354551432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/07/alienation.html' title='Alienation?'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-9168477257206814409</id><published>2009-07-01T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T19:38:26.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer change?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;For the past week I've been able to think of her in a happy kind of way... Not getting as upset when I hear about her, or when I see her picture on the mantlepiece... I just think of her with fond memories now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Mayhaps I just needed the time by myself, with all my friends gone away, to learn to deal with it by myself? Or maybe I had a mentle block, because I thought I needed to talk about it, but never thought anyone would quite get it? I don't know...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I think she needed me to accept it, so she can help me with all of the other problems I need to deal with. God knows I have far too much to deal with for a teenage girl! Yeah, that must be it, she can help me through it now, my new guardian angel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Haha, that started the emotions working again, but not in a bad way this time, not in the uncontrollable sobbing kind-of way...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Little flower,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Show your power,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Every hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-9168477257206814409?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/9168477257206814409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/9168477257206814409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/9168477257206814409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-change.html' title='Summer change?'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-753427084947318112</id><published>2009-06-23T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T20:02:41.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The youth of today...</title><content type='html'>My usual agony aunts are all gone away, so you'll have to deal with the watershed again Bloggie ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As a young person, my opinion does not matter.&lt;/span&gt; It does not matter because I am in limbo. I cannot be a real young person, because "the age gap is too big" and I am not a real figure of authority because "she's not technically a leader" so my opinion doesn't count. Both those statements quoted above have been contradicted by the persons who made them, to suit themselves of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even others in this clique have done the same. They humour me for a while with their "Yeah, go on, trust us, you poor fragile girl who has made it obvious she has trust issues in the first place" and then spit on me and say "you know what, we actually couldn't give a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;shit&lt;/span&gt; what you think, because it isn't what we think, so &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shut up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been an agony aunt to the people they were supposed to be looking after, I have done an unbelievable amount of work, put in so much blood, sweat and tears, but so what? She's only seventeen right? Treat her like shit and she'll bounce right back and forgive us, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this time was one too many, the little trust I had is gone, respect, amach as an fhuinneog, this time I am actually finished. All I did was try to &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;help children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, to whom my opinion does matter, and from now on that is all I will care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They say children are the best judges of character, so there must be areason they flock to me instead of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-753427084947318112?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/753427084947318112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/06/youth-of-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/753427084947318112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/753427084947318112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/06/youth-of-today.html' title='The youth of today...'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-5909024567600885815</id><published>2009-06-07T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T16:52:23.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza Flu</title><content type='html'>It is an epidemic that is striking nationwide... creeping up on poor, unsuspecting teens as they're settling down to enjoy a quiet sociable evening with their friends in Pizza Hut... This epidemic is called &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PIZZA FLU!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As consumers everywhere are ordering their plain Margarita's with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Italian&lt;/span&gt; bases, they never suspect that their tasty treat is out for &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;revenge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see folks, pizza is sick of the way it is treated, discarded as a snack for the youth of today during their trips to town, sick of being unappreciated, and sick of being mass produced and exploited by chains...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young boy from the Dublin area, it has been reported, is to be the next victim of said Pizza Flu. Mr. Pepsi, the spokesperson for the pizza-trade-union, has declared that the young boy in question spends weekends convincing friends to join him for pizza, only to disrespect it, and engage them in mindless banter instead. Mr. Pepsi has described this boy as medium in height, with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;women's&lt;/span&gt; sized feet. He wears a hat, and answers to the orders of a mysterious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; girl.&lt;br /&gt;If you know &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anybody&lt;/span&gt; who fits this description, please warn them, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;they will be next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Dramatic Musical Ending*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-5909024567600885815?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/5909024567600885815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/06/pizza-flu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/5909024567600885815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/5909024567600885815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/06/pizza-flu.html' title='Pizza Flu'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-3871015224079192313</id><published>2009-05-17T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T16:20:56.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It helps...</title><content type='html'>It's tough, and always will be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it really helps&lt;/span&gt; when you have someone their to sympathise and empathise, and share experiences with... Stayed up late, and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cried&lt;/span&gt; my eyes out... pretty sure I upset her too, but she knows I didn't mean to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a rather large weights been lifted, because I'm not on my own anymore,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thank you&lt;/span&gt; ^^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-3871015224079192313?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/3871015224079192313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-helps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/3871015224079192313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/3871015224079192313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-helps.html' title='It helps...'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-2552531650124281823</id><published>2009-05-16T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T18:14:14.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The power of a silly song...</title><content type='html'>So I'd been thinking 'bout it all day, 4 months on, and everyday she's still on my mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sit down in the sitting room and my folks are watching Have I Got News For You, Rolf Harris was presenting this week. I knew I'd heard of him before, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it... The show was quite funny, and I thought to myself "Quite cool, for an old guy" then the credits rolled.. Then they brought him back up again, to do the bloopers I thought... but then..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started singing... getting everyone to sing... the song that she used to sing to us when she watched us... since as long as I could remember she'd taught us that song..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Two little boys had two little toys &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Each had a wooden horse &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Gayly they played each summer's day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Warriors both of course &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;One little chap then had a mishap &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Broke off his horse's head &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Wept for his toy then cried with joy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;As his young playmate said: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;"Did you think I would leave you crying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;When there's room on my horse for two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Climb up here Jack and don't be crying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;I can go just as fast with two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;When we grow up we'll both be soldiers &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;And our horses will not be toys &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;And I wonder if we'll remember &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;When we were two little boys" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Long years had passed, war came so fast &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Bravely they marched away &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Cannon roared loud, and in the mad crowd &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Wounded and dying lay &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Up goes a shout, a horse dashes out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Out from the ranks so blue &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Gallops away to where Joe lay &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Then came a voice he knew: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;"Did you think I would leave you dying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;When there's room on my horse for two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Climb up here Joe, we'll soon be flying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;I can go just as fast with two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Did you say Joe I'm all a-tremble &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Perhaps it's the battle's noise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;But I think it's that I remember &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;When we were two little boys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Do you think I would leave you dying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;There's room on my horse for two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Climb up here Joe, we'll soon by flying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Back to the ranks so blue &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Can you feel Joe I'm all a tremble &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Perhaps it's the battle's noise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;But I think it's that I remember &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;When we were two little boys" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--Lyrics End--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the thing is, I know it's only a silly little song, but it was ours... our aul auntie and ours...&lt;br /&gt;And then I hear her voice singing it again, and my hearts in my mouth... I ran out to the kitchen and sat on the floor so no-one could see or hear me, and cried. Cried it all out. The dogs sitting, staring like they understood, which I know sounds odd, but it's what it looked like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 months on, and anytime I hear one of her songs, see something she gave me, pass by her old road, hear people talk about her, I cry.. Every night when me and my brother say our prayer to her, my heart sinks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Little Flower,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Show your Power,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Every hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She taught me that prayer, and she taught me that song. She taught me to bake and she taught me to iron. She taught me to be who I am and ignore the people who put you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't get why she can't still teach me... teach me to be stronger?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-2552531650124281823?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/2552531650124281823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/05/power-of-silly-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/2552531650124281823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/2552531650124281823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/05/power-of-silly-song.html' title='The power of a silly song...'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-268181829013198530</id><published>2009-02-20T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T16:13:29.581-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coldplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='After-death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dublin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bray'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Content'/><title type='text'>The Big Smoke</title><content type='html'>What is it about the effect the city has on me! Whilst most people are complaining about the crime rates, and how scary it is in the dark, I seem to be quite content strolling through on my lonesome while the sun sets... Maybe it's the time I have just to contemplate myself... Or maybe I'm just that naive ^^ Either way, I'm at home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't the same when you cross over to the countryside.. my supposed home... where I feel less settled =/ Not at peace.. without the same hustle-and-bustle I've become enchanted with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to travel ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twilight Books: EPIC&lt;br /&gt;Twilight Movie: Disappointing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tis just over a month since Mar-Mar died... It isn't getting any easier =[ and it doesn't feel like it ever will... I didn't realise how hard it would be, but it is...&lt;br /&gt;I found the last €10 she gave me, and my Mum keeps saying she'd want me to spend it.. but I wanna do something special for her with it..&lt;br /&gt;hehe, I did come up with a plan.. Going to Bray (which is where she brought us every summer when we were kids, spending most of her time on the slots! Quite the gambler was my Auntie Maura haha)  And spending it on the slots for her, see if the aul one'll give us her luck xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe use it to go to the zoo... I'll never forget the day she got lost in the African Plains, and we thought she'd ran away with the zookeeper! She was one awesome lady! *beams*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is exactly what she was, a lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next: GIRLS ALOUD SUPPORTING COLDPLAY!? WTF IS THIS ALL ABOUT!?&lt;br /&gt;Are they TRYING to purposely upset me? I LOVE Coldplay... and despise Girls Aloud. Polar opposites much!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the excitement that is my life... I loves it ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lo-Lo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-268181829013198530?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/268181829013198530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/02/big-smoke.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/268181829013198530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/268181829013198530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/02/big-smoke.html' title='The Big Smoke'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-6464596377788881475</id><published>2009-01-14T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T10:17:27.751-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unfairness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crisis of faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>Crisis of Faith...</title><content type='html'>Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some clarification here..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, so I know the most amazing woman in the world. She has spent her life devoted to You, and to helping everyone around her! Every year she collects everyones coppers, and saves for what we call "Mar-Mars blind boys". Everyday she opens her home to anyone that's upset, or just in need of a cuppa. She NEVER EVER complains, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a stroke a few years back, and always told us she'd just broken her leg running for the bus =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even now, as I watch her becoming more frail, and helpless... she doesn't complain, and is still as generous as ever... And is lying in her bed, surrounded by her Rosaries, crosses, prayers, you name it, I find myself asking: God.. this woman has done nothing to harm anyone for her entire life, nothing but love and help... Why would you curse her with such a horrible illness, such a long, drawn out illness... That's not only hurting her, but everyone she's ever cared for too..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little brother, "Mar-Mars boy" as he's called, is the only one not to cry, the only one that could hold it together when we visited her today. Afterwards, he comforted me when he saw I was upset. He's going to be just like her when he grows up, a loving person! He keeps asking why everyone else is crying though... He has it figured out, but I'm betting he just doesn't want it to be true... "Y'know, I really love Mar-Mar" he keeps saying, "She's my favourite Auntie"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so hard to say goodbye today, she's like a 3rd nanny, but better! Leaving her room, where she's bedridden now, she said "Keep me in your prayers, love".&lt;br /&gt;See, even then God, she's still keeping her faith in you! I told her I would, and kept telling her I loved her, over and over again, and said I'd see her at the weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, WHY? Why make her go through this!? This... cancer!!! She does not deserve this!! No-one does!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, stop this! Because if Auntie Maura's taken, we'll all be lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-6464596377788881475?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/6464596377788881475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/01/crisis-of-faith.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/6464596377788881475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/6464596377788881475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/01/crisis-of-faith.html' title='Crisis of Faith...'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-226263327170849199</id><published>2009-01-07T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T14:47:03.502-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frustrated teenageness'/><title type='text'>Frustration...</title><content type='html'>So school starts back today, and it's like, the frustration and misery I worked out over the break all flows back... Who'd have thought one building could cause so much anger and upset?&lt;br /&gt;I step off the bus, and the second my foot hits the ground I get nervous...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day starts with the cold art classroom, the best possible class I could begin with. Then talk of hanging our paintings up commences. What classes shall we take of then? 3 last classes tomorrow? Sounds great! What do I have the... And I remember, Irish =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irish is the singular bane of my life! I love the language, and I love being Irish! But the class is the one part of the day that causes knots in my stomach as I dread its approach! I can never understand a word said! Confusion much!? And everytime I'm asked a question I screw up, soo humiliating, and she pauses, and looks at me for ages while I get embarrassed! I hate it so much!&lt;br /&gt;And then the homework... I shant get started on that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come home to my house stripped of it's Christmas Décor for another season, tis sad really... Even the cat appears to miss the Christmas tree!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Angie and J.B. are still missing... I'm getting worried, but my Mum keeps saying "They'll come back when they're hungry! Don't worry!" -Tis been almost a week... I know I'd be hungry =[&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-226263327170849199?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/226263327170849199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/01/frustration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/226263327170849199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/226263327170849199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/01/frustration.html' title='Frustration...'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-1708168240434442680</id><published>2009-01-05T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T13:30:46.765-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ctyi tired'/><title type='text'>My flabber is well and truly gasted.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well after a long, and tiring weekend, I'm just ready to curl up and sleep for the next few days!... well, until school starts back anyways =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Had my lovely nerd-camp buddies came to stay, causing much sleep to be lost! Serial, 3 days of no sleep, *yawness*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The one thing about being around them is we can say absolutely anything to each other! And we get creative with our poking-fun at each other... Par example I made a "darling" song about one:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;When you're looking down the street and a car goes by,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;You'll see 2 old guys getting high,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;It's Alan, and Herbert, The perverti,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;Singing- My oh my!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;You'd better lock your children up,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;Or they'll be lured with 7up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;Alan proceeds to remove their clothes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330033;"&gt;While Herbert watches through the windows!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tis yet to be finished, but we think tis coming along nicely ^^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-1708168240434442680?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/1708168240434442680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-flabber-is-well-and-truly-gasted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/1708168240434442680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/1708168240434442680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-flabber-is-well-and-truly-gasted.html' title='My flabber is well and truly gasted.'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3080272080452716332.post-3438998114364029640</id><published>2008-12-25T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T11:30:49.715-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas ^^</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Crazy isn't it!? Tis Christmas already! Almost The end of the year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa truly is a wonderful man.. Coldplay tickets, a laptop and then some!&lt;br /&gt;The tickets may have been late coming, but ohmybob! least I got 'em ^^ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284554421149989746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/SVaCP0zde3I/AAAAAAAAABg/3gvoeQmjVOA/s320/phone+pics+596.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temporarily my laptops been christened Sheeba, until I find a name that suits her personality a'course! =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, must fly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles ^^&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3080272080452716332-3438998114364029640?l=oreo-diaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/feeds/3438998114364029640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/3438998114364029640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3080272080452716332/posts/default/3438998114364029640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oreo-diaries.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas ^^'/><author><name>aerii-faerii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054697105900469674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/Sg9p34WRzxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fe2cZXtRDTo/S220/phone+pics+660.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_skkeSPzSa7U/SVaCP0zde3I/AAAAAAAAABg/3gvoeQmjVOA/s72-c/phone+pics+596.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
