<?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-9047142946156451107</id><updated>2012-02-15T22:55:18.782-08:00</updated><category term='S'/><title type='text'>Growing Taller</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-7018969144212551190</id><published>2012-02-12T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T21:21:36.888-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Arising</title><content type='html'>I have had the most amazing day!!! This morning I had to drag myself out of my bed to get up for 9:00 church. When my alarm went off at 8 I laid there contemplating if I should bother to get up. I couldn't hear anybody else up getting ready and I'm always the last to get up for church, so I knew they must not be planning on going. I hate sitting in sacrament meeting alone and considered just going to sunday school and yw's but then as I said my morning prayers I knew I needed to be there for all the meetings. So I pulled myself up and am so grateful, because I was going my mom decided to go with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in sacrament meeting the bishop's son Matt talked to us. He just returned home from his mission this week and told us about his amazing experiences. For once nobody was asleep. It was an amazing meeting, possibly one of the most spiritual sacrament meetings i've been in. I kept thinking to myself, "What if you had not gotten up this morning? What if you had stayed in bed?" The thought was then horrifying to me. That I would have missed out on such spiritual growth without even being aware on what I was missing out on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in Young Women's today we had another amazing lesson. We talked about being beautiful, truly beautiful. My young women president Cassie, who I love to death, walked around the room where we sat holding a big mirror and asked us what we saw. We each looked and saw ourselves, just us, nothing so great we each thought. Then she asked us if we saw the joy in our eyes. If we saw the light of christ that she see's in us. Wow, we all thought. Had any of us checked to look for that? Does anyone look in the mirror in the morning and say "Am I sharing my joy today? Do I look like an example of Christ?" We all look at our hair, and our makeup, and our clothes, so absorbed in what the world says beauty is that we forget to put on and live to our true beautiful potentials. I will never look in a mirror the same. We watched &amp;nbsp;a video about a women who met David O. Mckay and his wife. When she came in David O. Mckay said "I'd like you to meet my queen." And the young women saw that what he said was true she said, "Hers was a beauty that cannot be purchased, her white hair was her crown, and her eyes sparkled like jewels." Someday I want to be seen this way. I want the kind of beauty that won't wash off, and i'm working to become that now. As many say "Pretty is as pretty does."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing that changed my life today started with a story my yw leader told me about a day when she'd gotten up super early to do some things she needed to do and because she had dragged herself out of her bed when she didn't want to she had seen the most beautiful sunrise. She realized then as she was driving in her car looking at this beautiful sight, a sight she knew could only be created by her heavenly father, that had she not been up doing what she was supposed to she would have missed it. And the next second it was gone. It was only in the split second that she had seen the true beauty hidden now beneath the clouds. Later I was reading my scriptures and I had the urge to look out of the window as it was raining outside. I opened my second story window up and saw a gray sky but maybe 30 seconds later the entire horizon to the left of my house became a bright gold shining through gray and white clouds. It was breathtaking and lit up the street making it glitter. Then as I looked to my right I saw the most beautiful rainbow. I have never seen such a gorgeous sky and within a couple minutes the rainbow was covered behind dark clouds. But I had seen it. I knew it was still there. Had I not acted on that urge the spirit had given me I would have never seen it. Thinking back if I &amp;nbsp;had not gone to church then I probably wouldn't have been reading my scriptures and I wouldn't have been prompted to see it at all and my day would be nothing...it made me realize how important little choices are and how big they effect everything. As I saw that sky it brought tears to my eyes because I realized I need to be beautiful like that too, and that's what my heavenly father wants me to be and gave me the potential to be. I want to Arise and Shine forth. I'm starting today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-7018969144212551190?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/7018969144212551190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/02/arising.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/7018969144212551190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/7018969144212551190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/02/arising.html' title='Arising'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-6809189838287840065</id><published>2012-01-31T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T21:05:02.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Burning</title><content type='html'>I have so many words to say...yet hardly anything to say at all. The good thing about blogs is I actually write in them...the sometimes bad thing...people read them. I can't just say whatever's going through my mind when I know it will be read. So here I am venting about what cannot be vented. I can think of every word I want to write but none of which shall reach this page. This is a problem of mine. Sometime's I am bursting to say things, shout things, cry things out. But for other's benefits they must not be heard. All well, my title summarizes everything pretty well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-6809189838287840065?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/6809189838287840065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/burning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/6809189838287840065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/6809189838287840065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/burning.html' title='Burning'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-2314939476768861970</id><published>2012-01-29T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T15:22:22.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like my life recently is like one of those pictures that when looked at appears to be something totally different than what's actually depicted. I can't see the picture properly. I see what I want to see not what is actually there. I'm too idealistic. I want to see everything in a good light and see that everything is going great, but that is the fake picture.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I give up. I'm sick of fooling myself. I'm sick of telling myself that possibilities are there. I'm sick of telling myself it could work out. I'm sick of telling myself that anyone could like me. I'm sick of how I can never seem to give up. I'm done with that. I'm naive and young and have dreams too big.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm done with trying. I'm done with hurting myself. I can't ever truly be happy that way.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-2314939476768861970?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/2314939476768861970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-feel-like-my-life-recently-is-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2314939476768861970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2314939476768861970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-feel-like-my-life-recently-is-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-4304188016681148599</id><published>2012-01-27T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T23:15:28.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mosquito in a Mannequin Factory</title><content type='html'>Hmm...i haven't written in my blog in a long time. Probably because life's been so great lately! I seem to find the urge to write when I'm feeling down...lately i've been feeling happy all the time (: But I am writing in this blog now...so....you can guess what that means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was extremely fun! I had a great time and an awesome date and tomorrow I have a whole day of fun dates and preference! Why am I feeling so down right now then? I don't know! I came home and i just felt drained emotionally and physically. I think my emotions are messing with me. They don't seem to listen to me or like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So cheesy as it sounds sometimes I feel like part of me is missing, the piece that contains the rest of my happiness. I am so happy about life and everything in it, but not completely happy. I see couples, parents, yw leaders all so happy and complete because they've found the rest of them and it makes me want that too. Which frustrates me...I do not want a boyfriend in high school. I don't want to love anybody until i'm much older. Why do I see people so perfectly together than and want that too. I can never want anything that's good for me, and I hate it. The end. Once again I am the enemy of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight while I was on my date I was having a blast but it just never feels right. I love going out with friends but sometimes I feel like that's what it will only ever be. All of the guys I go on dates with are just friends and that's all they will ever be. I worry that even if I go on a date with someone who I have stronger feelings for it will just be a friendship date to them. Loving without being loved in return i wonder if that will be the story of my life. The solution is so simple. Do not love. Oh how I'm trying...but then again am I...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-4304188016681148599?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/4304188016681148599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/mosquito-in-mannequin-factory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4304188016681148599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4304188016681148599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/mosquito-in-mannequin-factory.html' title='A Mosquito in a Mannequin Factory'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-2919190560081030907</id><published>2012-01-11T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T12:13:47.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goals!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 36px;"&gt;So lately in Language Arts my teacher's been talking about how he doesn't make New Years resolutions. Most people make new years resolutions because it's the beginning of a New Year and everybody does that. They don't almost ever end up keeping them because they're not dedicated to them. They didn't make the resolution because it's something they really care about, they made it because of an occasion. He said he makes goals because when he makes a goal it's something he really intends to keep, and he doesn't make it because of a date in the year, he makes it because he needs to make it and wants to keep it. So I've decided this is a brilliant idea! I'm bagging resolutions and switching to goals! Yesterday I was thinking about how I always have so much to do and am terrible at time management! So I decided to make schedule's for myself to keep me on task. These schedules have the very important things I need to get done everyday to feel accomplished on them. I know they are going to change from day to day because I have a lot of other things going on that might push the schedule back a bit, but for the most part I want to keep it like it says. This is going to be a HUGE HUGE HUGE challenge for me! But i'm going to try and follow these schedule's at least 4 of my days during the week! It may change by an hour or so with other important things going on but other than that I am going to try and follow it strictly! I'm putting this on my blog because I have realized it's a lot easier to accomplish goals when you share them with others both because you feel more dedicated to a goal you've shared with others because if you fail then you're not going to be the only one to know, and also because having others who know your goal and support you in it is amazing! So if anyone wants to check up on me during the weeks and see how i'm doing with this goal! PLEASE DO! It will encourage me to follow it when I have to tell others if I am or not! If anyone wants to join me or set themselves a schedule and so we can sort of check up on each-other and help eachother that'd be great! (: Or if you have a different goal you want help with just let me know! Here are the schedule's i'll be following...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Weekday Schedule (After school)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;3:45-4:45 running&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;4:45-5:00 crunches/bicycles&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;5:00-7:00 homework&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;7:00-8:00 chores&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;8:00-8:30 scripture reading time&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;8:30-Bed free time&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Saturday Schedule (Morning)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;7:30-8:00 scripture reading time&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;8:00-9:00 running&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;9:00-9:15 crunches/bicycles&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;9:15-9:30 breakfast&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;9:30-10:30 chores&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;Summer Schedule (Morning)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;7:30-8:00 scripture reading time&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;8:00-9:00 running&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;9:00-9:15 crunches/bicycles&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;9:15-9:30 breakfast&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;9:30-10:30 chores&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: 7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px; line-height: 24px;"&gt;*Goal: Follow this at least 4 days a week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-2919190560081030907?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/2919190560081030907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/goals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2919190560081030907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2919190560081030907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/goals.html' title='Goals!'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-5493972708027286963</id><published>2012-01-03T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T23:53:15.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whole New Year</title><content type='html'>Winter Break is over. As sad as I am I'm trying to look at the positives, new quarter, new start, new classes. In-fact it's a brand NEW YEAR! Yay! I must say 2011 was amazing though! Looking back into all of the memories I had there are so many amazing moments I will never forget. This is the result of the amazing people in my life. Every year angels step into my life, not even knowing what they are. I wish they could understand the impact they have made in my life. I love my family with my whole heart. I love my parents, I love my siblings, I love my pets (: I love what makes us, us. How we work together, how we don't work together. When it comes down to it though we always love each-other and are there for one another, that's what families are about and I am grateful to the extreme for my family in my life. I love my friends. In these crazy teenage years the friends you choose have a profound effect on who you are and you who become. I am so glad to have friends that I look up to in so many ways. They are there for me through thick and through thin. I shudder to think where and who I would be had they not come into my life. They will always be in my heart. I love my church leaders. They are often my inspiration. When I think "Where do I want to be in 5-10 years?" I think of my young women leaders and what beautiful, strong, amazing people they are. I want to be like them and they give me something to strive for in my life. And of course I am most grateful for my Savior and Heavenly Father. I would be and am nothing without them. They bless my life everyday in every way. Because of them I have everything. They are and will always be my greatest examples. They are what gets me through life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very excited for this year. I made about a billion new years resolutions but won't take the time to explain them all. I have already been working hard at one of them though! These last two days I've been filling out TONS of job applications! Yep I'm going to try and get a job! I'm actually pretty excited (: I'm also really excited to get my license soon! This year sure is starting of great! :D Better live life good since we're all dying in December right?! :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my Dad's birthday! :D I LOVE my dad to absolute bits! I was thinking about our 17 years together and what a good father he has always been! It makes me smile to remember our times together (: I'm glad to have such a close relationship with my dad. He is the greatest and is an &amp;nbsp;amazing example in my life! Much of who I am was learned from him. Sometime I'll have to write more about him but I should probably try and sleep soon since I have to get up for school! Goodnight World (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-5493972708027286963?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/5493972708027286963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/whole-new-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5493972708027286963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5493972708027286963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2012/01/whole-new-year.html' title='A Whole New Year'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-1378112232589020963</id><published>2011-12-21T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T21:47:57.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>YES!!!!!! 13 days of FREEDOM!!!!!!! Christmas break I could marry you!!!!! :D This week has been crazy stressful but today was great! Finally everything done! What a relief! School was easy as none of my classes was actually doing anything. Biology was sure an adventure :P&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My class for "fun" decided it wanted to put our DNA in necklaces and do blood typing! I'd never done blood typing before and I didn't know what blood type I am (though I could've asked my parents) so I wanted to do it! Only I am a little bit extremely afraid of any type of needle. I was determined to do it though. So I closed my eyes and looked away while Chandlie held me down and pricked me! Then I was sort of hyperventilating and almost passed out...but I didn't! So that was good! Only I didn't know that since I'm anemic my blood is really thin and so then I was bleeding a lot...it was just one little needle prick but somehow both my hands were covered in my blood and it wanted to drip everywhere...then I had to put a lot of pressure on it so it wouldn't keep bleeding more...and now my finger is bruised...but anyway I'm O POSITIVE! Woot which is kind of obvious considering both my parents are but I still think it's cool! :D&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight was fun (: I went on a daddy daughter date with my dad! We saw Sherlock Holmes 2 which was amazing! Better than the first! I want to go see it again (: Luckily i'll have plenty of time since I have NO SCHOOL! I'm so excited for Christmas! I still need to do tons of Christmas shopping though! I'm a last minute shopper :P After Christmas though I have endless free time so hmu! I want this christmas break full of adventures! I just thought of another movie I need to see! The new mission impossible! It looks so good! (sorry that was random).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's on the agenda for tomorrow morning! I get to wake up and watch amazing movies! That's like my favorite thing (: Not having school and getting up early before everyone else to watch movies that no one else wants to watch in a peaceful house! Tomorrow I think I'm gonna start it off with pride and prejudice and the notebook! (: A good start to a good 2 weeks (: Here I come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-1378112232589020963?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/1378112232589020963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1378112232589020963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1378112232589020963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/break.html' title='Break!!!!!!'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-1045686072781533721</id><published>2011-12-18T16:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T16:45:41.258-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This week has been amazing (: This week was angel tree and coins for kids, it really put me in the Christmas mood (: Friday night we went to deliver presents to the families. The first one we went to didn't speak english but it wasn't necessary. We knocked on the door and they were ushering us in all excited with huge smiles on their faces thanking us profoundly with "Gracias." The little kids were so excited to put their presents under the empty tree. It really put things into perspective for me, showing just how much I have and just how much of it I don't need. The kids were so sweet and the mother insisted on taking pictures of us with them. She appreciated so much. It's so weird that she was thanking us when it really should be us thanking them. Reluctantly we left to go to the next family who lived in a little trailer park, but when we got there we found their trailer completely dark and seemingly abandoned. It broke my heart that the kids might not get their presents. We left a note hoping they were just out, however when we went again Saturday the note was still there and it still looked abandoned. We had tried calling them but their phone was disconnected. I wonder if these little kids will get any presents at all :( It's so sad :( I hope they have somewhere warm to stay for Christmas. I wish that I could help...this was the downer of my weekend :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was great. My family doesn't really go to church very often so I went with Madison to her ward which was fun to have a change.. In YW's we talked about loving yourself. It really made me think. "Love thy neighbor's as thyself." I never thought about how you're supposed to love them as you love yourself which means your supposed to love yourself. I never thought it as very important to love myself at all really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It amazes me that some people are so totally comfortable with who they are and confident about themselves and just love who they are. I don't know how they do it :/ I always try to be myself but I wouldn't say i'm confident about it...It's so hard to love myself. I'm the girl who's always too loud, talks too much, says weird things, thinks weird things, is too crazy, laughs too much, is different, isn't athletic, isn't very musically gifted, isn't the best at this or that, isn't the skinniest, isn't the prettiest, isn't the tallest, isn't the smartest, isn't the most popular, isn't the &amp;nbsp;funnest, and has too many problems, much much too many problems. How can I love that girl? That girl that is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I don't feel like it's possible to love myself. How can I love myself when i question if my mother does? "You're not as smart as your sister." "You're not as good at the violin as your sister." "No wonder you're so fat." "When I was young..." I just don't know how to be good enough :( It doesn't seem possible to me sometimes. Sometimes I just feel like a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm a daughter of God though. I know he loves me how I am, and maybe if he does then I can too. Maybe i'm not everything everyone wants me to be. Maybe I'm not the best at anything, but maybe I can be a good sister, a good friend, a good daughter. Then have I failed? If I can make someone smile everyday, be someone's friend when they need one, help someone with their homework, laugh at someone's joke when it's not funny, listen to someone who needs to talk, then am I failing. Maybe in some eyes, but in some ways I think that maybe I'm not doing too bad. Could be worse right? Maybe I don't love myself but I'll start trying now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I write extremely long blogs that tend to be written when I feel like writing...and when I feel like writing is generally when I feel like venting about my stupid conflicts. I just feel like I need to get it out of me where it's possible someone might read it so I'm not keeping everything to myself which I tend to have a problem with. Sometimes I just don't know who to talk to...so I talk to my blog. Don't feel obligated to read it (: The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-1045686072781533721?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/1045686072781533721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/this-week-has-been-amazing-this-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1045686072781533721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1045686072781533721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/this-week-has-been-amazing-this-week.html' title=''/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-1096393471164737380</id><published>2011-12-13T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T20:30:13.604-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happily Ever After</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;Hmm everything would be so much easier if I could actually type everything I think. All well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;So lately there's been a lot of guy drama with my best friends! What is up with that? :P It makes me think though. One of them has concluded it's because she's desperate which makes me wonder if that's what the majority of high-school relationships stem from. Isn't &amp;nbsp;that what most people are? So desperate to be loved and to feel wanted. Really who doesn't want to love and be loved. Maybe it's not just high school students. I don't think being desperate is the main problem then, but how it's handled perhaps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;Now I wonder and ask myself &lt;i&gt;"Am I desperate?" &lt;/i&gt;Maybe. The more I think about it the more I realize I probably am. Not in the same ways maybe? I'm not chasing after boys, or looking for a boyfriend. I don't want to go through different guys who like me. I don't care to go out kissing tons of guys. I don't care how hot or popular a guy is, it doesn't make me like him more or fall for him. Guys are great friends though (:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;Then again that's what I use to try and convince myself that I'm not desperate. Those things are true. But then there's those nights when I'm lying in bed wishing so desperately I didn't have to sleep alone at night. Looking so desperately to those nights someday when I won't have to. There's those days when I can't pull myself together and wish I could just be wrapped in someone's arms and forget everything. There's those days when I feel like half of me is missing but can't find it anywhere. There's those times when I wish I had someone to talk to about anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;Am I not desperate then? I think I am. I'm not desperate for a stupid high school relationship. I don't want something that obviously won't last. I think I'm desperate to get older and have one that will be forever. I realize I'm nowhere near that point and probably won't be for a good 5-10 years, and I'm not trying to attain that right now. Why then do I even think of it? I don't know. It frustrates me. I hate boys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;The worst is when you keep thinking of one. One that doesn't even make sense! One that shouldn't and can't make sense. One that just leaves you confused to the point where your confusing your confused feelings of confusion. But it doesn't even matter because you won't like a guy and don't like a guy right? There's no need to drag yourself into hurt, especially into the impossible. So that is it you can like no one and you like no one especially not someone who will never like you back. The end. Mostly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;So I'll go to college and get a degree, go on a mission, start a career and wait until I'm 57 to marry a cat loving evil man (: Sounds like an amazing plan to me! (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: sienna; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-1096393471164737380?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/1096393471164737380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/hmm-everything-would-be-so-much-easier.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1096393471164737380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1096393471164737380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/hmm-everything-would-be-so-much-easier.html' title='Happily Ever After'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-4141918658615455333</id><published>2011-12-10T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-10T23:48:19.302-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Under again</title><content type='html'>Some nights I just make bad at my own fault. Tonight kind of went bad. Madison and me were going to hang out and do stuff but then of course a boy got in the way :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate boys. You really feel like a bad friend when your friend keeps canceling plans with you to hang out with a guy she only recently knows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then to make things worse she can't just let you pretend to be happy for her, she has to call up a friend of yours to come pick you up instead of letting you hide in your covers away from stupid painful emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then her date shows up before your friend and she won't go and let you swing on her bench. She has to awkwardly stay with her date who actually hates you because you tp'd his house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then your friend shows up and you're in a bad mood and you find a car full of his friends. Then you feel like you're impeding on their good night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you really want to talk about all of this to your friend, but then again you really don't want to put all your burdens on him especially when he's with his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Madison calls to say how horrible her date was and you feel terrible because you told her the guy's a jerk but she didn't believe you and still won't and to make it worse she blames herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you have to go home before anyone else because you have a curfew and so you have to be a burden and your friend has to go drive you home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you pull up to your house and really don't want to go home at all. You just want to talk, but you can't because you don't want to be the problem that you always somehow are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you say you have to go when you really don't want to because you don't want to end up crying in front of your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you say goodnight and go in the door and up to your sister's room only to find that she's asleep. Then you're extremely tempted to call your friend and tell him to come back to talk in his car but you stop yourself because you've already ruined his night enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you call Madison on the phone and talk forever which leaves you feeling a little bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you get on the computer to type this all in your blog because you feel like you need to talk to someone even if it is a computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you're finished and you feel a tiny bit better but not really. Somehow you can never get out what you want to say. For some reason you close yourself off and can't really say everything you feel and it kills you but even knowing that you can't, not even to a blog. So you crawl back under the covers...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-4141918658615455333?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/4141918658615455333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/under-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4141918658615455333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4141918658615455333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/under-again.html' title='Under again'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-7816845918900874250</id><published>2011-12-06T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T15:37:13.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can think it....candycane it.</title><content type='html'>This week has been fabulous so far (: ANGEL TREE is next week!!!! I LOVE IT! For anyone who doesn't know what that is...every year the interact club at Dixie (and probably other schools) raises money to give kids, whose families can't afford presents, Christmas! These kids whatever their situation may be are not receiving any christmas. It's not that they're having a small christmas, their family can afford to get them no presents whatsoever. Interact raises over 10,000 dollars every year to help these people! We shop for their presents, wrap them, and then deliver them. It's the most amazing thing in the world to see the smiles on those little kids faces when you put presents under their otherwise empty trees. So this week is all about raising money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Madison, Shalynne, and I went after school to people's houses to get donations it was amazing! In a couple hours we made around $120 dollars! That's a kids christmas! People were so nice and so generous it amazes me! It really makes you feel the Christmas spirit. Christmas is about our savior and how he sacrificed himself to be with him again and to become like him. That's what people were doing! They were being like him! They could use the money they gave us for their own christmas presents but instead gave it to someone who had nothing. It was shocking how many 20's we got, some of which were probably hard to spare. Thank you so much everyone, and I know there's many more who wish to thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we're going out to raise money again if anyone wants to join! And also tomorrow night is the Christmas in Dixie fundraiser and Silent auction at Dixie High! Please come! It's only $3 for adults and $1 for kids. We have an amazing Christmas concert and it's totally worth it! All of the money will go to angel tree and will help so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely love December! (Except for huge projects, like a 17 page research paper) I love/hate the cold! I love it so long as I'm warm and sometimes even when I'm not (: December seems to carry Christmas into town! I was thinking of some of the things that make me start thinking about Christmas and getting in the christmas spirit here's some of them...&lt;br /&gt;-Black Friday Christmas Shopping&lt;br /&gt;-Putting the trees up and DECORATING! :D&lt;br /&gt;-making gingerbread cookies/houses&lt;br /&gt;-wearing pj's with christmas things on them&lt;br /&gt;-the smell of cinnamon pine cones&lt;br /&gt;-bare trees outside!&lt;br /&gt;-freezing weather&lt;br /&gt;-christmas songs on the radio&lt;br /&gt;-wrapping paper&lt;br /&gt;-making paper snowflakes&lt;br /&gt;-christmas caroling/carolers&lt;br /&gt;-hot chocolate&lt;br /&gt;-christmas movies and specials on tv&lt;br /&gt;-going to look at all the christmas lights around town&lt;br /&gt;-coats and scarfs and boots&lt;br /&gt;-friendly people&lt;br /&gt;-CHRISTMAS BREAK!!!!&lt;br /&gt;-spending time with my family!!&lt;br /&gt;-Christmas lessons in church&lt;br /&gt;ect. ect. ect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T WAIT for Christmas! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I wasn't joking about wanting thermal underwear...seriously...I do....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-7816845918900874250?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/7816845918900874250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/this-week-has-been-fabulous-so-far.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/7816845918900874250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/7816845918900874250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/12/this-week-has-been-fabulous-so-far.html' title='If you can think it....candycane it.'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-3076260487871728231</id><published>2011-11-27T09:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T09:49:01.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hate those nights when you have an absolutely amazing dream and then wake up at 3 in the morning only to be crushed that it was just a dream. Even knowing such you struggle to go back to your blissful dreamland but cannot sleep and you find tears building up in your eyes and then are mad about how ridiculous you're being, and then you just want to take off running to forget everything but instead are trapped in the confines of your bed, so you burry yourselves as deep as you possibly can within your covers and try as hard as you can to escape the loneliness that's engulfing you, and struggle to fall into merciful dreamless unconciousness. Some nights are just bad. The worst part is that it's your own fault. You create your own problems and are left to deal with them alone as you so rightly should. I am the problem in my life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My main problem is that I don't know how to stop being a problem. I always have such conflicts with myself. Half of me thinks one thing and half of me thinks something totally different. Why can't I just be in agreement with myself one way or the other! Part of me is always totally un-realistic while the other is trying to force reality down my throat. You'd think reality would win right? It should win right? Then why can't it! I don't want to be a dreamer. I'm getting sick of dreaming. I need to be woken up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay I'm going to stop venting now. Honestly it always feels good to put my thoughts into words. On a happier note though, Thanksgiving was amazing! (: I've had a really good week and yesterday I had a lot of cousins I hardly ever see come down and we played games like we do every year. It made me happy to have a bit of tradition surviving. I love this time of year. We just put up the Christmas tree last night (: I love feeling Christmas is on it's way. Well I'd keep writing but I should probably go get ready for church. Have a great sunday (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-3076260487871728231?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/3076260487871728231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-hate-those-nights-when-you-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3076260487871728231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3076260487871728231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-hate-those-nights-when-you-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-2192956440292216703</id><published>2011-11-21T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T21:07:51.309-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let the Happiness Rain Down</title><content type='html'>Some days are quite spectacular (: Those days where you do nothing that seems to merit such greatness but somehow they're just great. Last night it rained! No, I take that back...last night it poured! Oh the wonder (: I watched the rain through my bay window. It came slashing and attacking hardly taking a breath of air in it's great battle with the wind. A wonderful sight. Beautiful sounds. Sometimes I think i'm rather morbid. On cold nights I generally dig myself into a pile of the biggest fluffiest blankets I can find. I turn on my fireplace and cuddle with my cats or dogs to keep warm. On a freezing rainy night like yesterday, however, I pulled only one blanket over my frozen body, lit no fire, and let the goosebumps travel down my spine. It would seem improper that in a cold and wet world as the skies cried down upon me, I should be warm. No. I want to feel the rain to the fullest extent. I want to feel it, even when under cover, on my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I awoke to a cloudy morning. The sky beautiful shades of streaking grays. Why some do not consider gray a color is beyond my comprehension. Is it not like any other color? It comes in many different beautiful shades and perhaps a few quite ugly. Upon walking out to the door I was greeted by a shiny crystalized world. In my mind I imagine from space if the whole world were raining it would appear as one big glimmering chandelier or perhaps an everlasting diamond. School started slowly as usual but then sped until I was racing to catch up with it. I suppose it wasn't much different than usual. I went home and did absolutely nothing. That's what i've been doing since school. I have no homework today and the stress and tension seemed to roll of my shoulders in huge rivlets and waves. I've been left to my thoughts which have been happy. I think it's the people in my life that I center my emotions around. I have such amazing friends and family and they honestly make me happier than anything in the world. It makes me wonder what I would be had I never met them. It's rather a scary thought. I will never forget what they've done for me or how they've changed me. If they only knew the impact they have on my daily life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely unrelated note...I am now officially a vegetarian :P My dad and I were having a rather interesting conversation about biology which led to talk of disecting things which led to my horror. At Dixie in Biology we disect pigs. Actually rather all the other students do. I refuse to participate. I can't think about killing animals and if it wasn't for the fact that while putting a piece of chicken in my mouth I associate it none whatsoever with the creature, I would be unable to eat meat. I was telling my dad how easy it would be for me to become a vegetarian and how I'd almost prefer it as I don't like a great deal of meat anyway and can't stand of thinking about eating little animals. He said I couldn't do it. So now I am doing it just to prove him wrong. It's not really for any other reason. I wonder how long i'll last? Guess we'll see (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bets anyone? (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-2192956440292216703?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/2192956440292216703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/let-happiness-rain-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2192956440292216703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2192956440292216703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/let-happiness-rain-down.html' title='Let the Happiness Rain Down'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-8835909820772343555</id><published>2011-11-20T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T19:08:34.581-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks to Banana's (:</title><content type='html'>It's almost Thanksgiving :) I am so excited for the holiday's! Thanksgiving and then Christmas and then New Years! I'm especially excited for school breaks (: In ways, that is, I'm excited, but probably not so much as previous years. This year is going to be extremely weird...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving usually goes like this for me. School usually gets out Tuesday and all of my extended family from both sides comes rushing to Saint George to my Grandma Moore's and my Grandpa Earl's. Tuesday and Wednesday we go to my Grandma's and spend the majority of our time there sitting around a huge table playing phase 10 and apples to apples while digging into piles of junk food. It's my favorite thing in the world (: There's nothing I love more than my dad's dis-functional huge family laughing around the table. They're super loud and you can hear my uncle Kimball's booming laughter from miles away. My kind of people. On Thanksgiving we get up and try to get my family out the door by noon (which is suprisingly difficult) to go eat lunch at my Grandpa's house. It's a completely different atmosphere there. It's much more polite and all the adults seem to be trying to prove their families are better. We properly sit around a table and eat with our best manners. I hate it. My cousins are fun to see though as many are close to my age so overall it's not too bad. After we've stuffed ourselves sufficiently we leave and go to my Grandma's to gather everyone to go to a movie. Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, we all go every year to see a movie. I love it. Then we go to my Grandma's for a feast where manners don't matter. You are welcome to eat everything including mashed potatoes with your fingers if you want. Then the games begin and after that the hugs and reluctant goodbyes. I love thanksgiving at my Grandma's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandpa got married for a third time this year and moved to live with his new wife Susan in Toquorville. My Grandma passed away a few months ago. Neither of them are here for Thanksgiving now. This year my family's just having our own little Thanksgiving. We were planning on it just being us but my recently divorced aunt and her 12 year old son had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving so we invited them to join us. I am thankful for this. At least a little bit of the old in our Thanksgiving (: There's nothing like family (: Christmas will probably be the same. It makes me sad to feel the losses that should be there but I have so many blessings and am lucky to have a family at all...so these Holiday's will be different but they will be good (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm thinking about Thanksgiving I'm in one of those grateful moods. You know how people always make lists or go around the table saying all the things they're the most grateful for? Well I'll save that for Thanksgiving...but what about all those things people never mention. The things we're perhaps not MOST grateful for but take for granted as they are not quite so significant. I'm going to make a list of those things now. The things that I'm grateful for that nobody would say around a table or in their prayers or probably even think twice about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful for...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-mechanical pencils&lt;br /&gt;-contacts/glasses&lt;br /&gt;-mens razors&lt;br /&gt;-hangers&lt;br /&gt;-big pockets&lt;br /&gt;-extension cords&lt;br /&gt;-socks (especially fuzzy ones)&lt;br /&gt;-peppermint gum&lt;br /&gt;-giant fleece blankets&lt;br /&gt;-hoodies&lt;br /&gt;-automatic paper towel dispensers&lt;br /&gt;-costco&lt;br /&gt;- old navy flip flops&lt;br /&gt;-iPods (especially I-touches)&lt;br /&gt;-Rolling chairs (Great for riding down hills)&lt;br /&gt;-Denny's&lt;br /&gt;-Disney movies&lt;br /&gt;-Books&lt;br /&gt;-blinds (Sometimes the neighbors just shouldn't see)&lt;br /&gt;-stuffed animals&lt;br /&gt;-huge t-shirts&lt;br /&gt;-boxers&lt;br /&gt;-locks&lt;br /&gt;-step ladders&lt;br /&gt;-fireplaces&lt;br /&gt;-phone calendar alerts&lt;br /&gt;-mustaches&lt;br /&gt;-nerf guns&lt;br /&gt;-bar jokes&lt;br /&gt;-blistex chapstick&lt;br /&gt;-hair ties&lt;br /&gt;-pasta strainers&lt;br /&gt;-cheese graters&lt;br /&gt;-popsicle sticks&lt;br /&gt;-dictionaries&lt;br /&gt;-harry potter&lt;br /&gt;-youtube&lt;br /&gt;-cameras&lt;br /&gt;-yo mamma jokes&lt;br /&gt;-good shower heads&lt;br /&gt;-remote controls&lt;br /&gt;-red buttons&lt;br /&gt;-spandex&lt;br /&gt;-friends baby pictures&lt;br /&gt;-awkward silences&lt;br /&gt;-old people&lt;br /&gt;-walgreens&lt;br /&gt;-taco bell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I could go on forever...and ever...(: Taco Bell seems a pretty solid place to stop! But think about things you've never thought of being grateful for (: It's amazing how blessed our lives are compared to others. These things seem so little they're not even thought about. In someone else's perspective however each one of these little things could be huge. In America where we are free to be grateful, are we?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-8835909820772343555?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/8835909820772343555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-almost-thanksgiving-i-am-so-excited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/8835909820772343555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/8835909820772343555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-almost-thanksgiving-i-am-so-excited.html' title='Thanks to Banana&apos;s (:'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-6897010019823564176</id><published>2011-11-16T16:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T16:40:07.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have the hiccups right now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;So in creative writing we just finished our poetry unit which makes me rather sad. I love writing poetry which is probably kind of weird. I find it an easy way to express myself. I almost never share my poems as they are generally very personal to me...but I've decided i'll share a few of the one's that I wrote in creative writing. I've been getting more used to sharing since we have to share everything we write in that class. Keep in mind i'm not very good (: These were completely written in class under time strains which is not exactly how my mind flows. Maybe i'll share some i've written on my own time at some point...guess we'll see how I feel. Well here you go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;In class my teacher asked us to write an ode to something we love. Most people wrote about their family, friends, pets, food, or music. I wrote about my hands. I have issues...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; line-height: 18px;"&gt;Ode to My Hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Tiny, beige and scarred&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Heavens gift to me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A gift of freedom&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Of my life grasped tightly&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;In a moist palm.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;My hands talk&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;sometimes as soft&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;as the fuzz of a dying dandelion&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;wished away in the wind.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;My hands scream&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;lashing like a banshee&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;with long jagged nails&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;that run smoothly &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;through the cries&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;of decaying flesh.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;My gentle hands&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;caress the soft, warm, unscarred skin&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;of a new born babe.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Tracing intricate patterns across&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;a tiny, wrinkled foot.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Catching a falling tear here&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;brushing a stray hair there.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A gentle but firm grip&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;that will never let go.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;My rough hands&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;caught in a rusty blenders&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;scaled like a serpent&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;raining down drops of red fire&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;on the fancy tiled floor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Days spent&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;crawling on gushing knees&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;with death&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;and empty, unheard wishes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;They reach out &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;with unseeing eyes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;running through &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;mazes at midnight.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Searching for comfort,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;guidance, security.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;They entwine with &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;another’s.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A warmth summer has&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;never known&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;presses fathoms deep&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;in every crevice.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Oh,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;My hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One day In class my teacher told us to pick a word we thought was "cool" one that you just loved saying or loved the sound of. I picked Sapphire. Then he told us to write down words that rhymed or had the same sounds. After doing this he had us switch our papers with someone else. The paper I got had the word "Responsible" written on it. My teacher told us "Now I want you to take those words on the list and write a poem using them. Use as little outside words as possible" Most of the poems didn't make sense and were actually rather comical, it was fun. Mine makes sense to me but perhaps just to me. I actually wrote it about a guy I know...see if you can make sense of my nonsense :p&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Bite Worse than Bark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Tangible&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A molding of terrible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Can it be tolerable?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A cannibal so comfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A mutilation so suitable.&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;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;It’s seemingly impossible,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Yet there the animal is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One class my teacher gave us 10 minutes to write down as many Haiku's as we could here's a few I wrote. He told us to try and write them about real problems in the world so they all have specific topics. I'll give you the middle one. It's about Rumors you figure what the rest are about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Haiku's&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Dandelion bleeds&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Drowning in a red rose sea&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A despair unseen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Lashed fiery words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Torn apart with smiling lies.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A mask worn by force.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Clocks ticking with anger.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Scraping the blood from my throat.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Beasts blocking my past.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-6897010019823564176?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/6897010019823564176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-have-hiccups-right-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/6897010019823564176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/6897010019823564176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-have-hiccups-right-now.html' title='I have the hiccups right now'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-4415172535899180355</id><published>2011-11-08T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T19:07:48.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Excuse me!</title><content type='html'>I'm realizing something. I make excuses way to often! A friend of mine has brought that to my attention and it dawned on me that he is absolutely right. At first I pushed aside his telling me this because I told myself "My excuses are true." But the truth is a lot of them are really only half true. Like when he asked if I sent a letter yet and I told him no because I didn't have the recipients address which is true, but honestly I could've gotten that long ago if I tried, it just wasn't one of my first priorities. I make way to many excuses that really just shouldn't have been made at all. I want to change &amp;nbsp;this though! Now that i've realized it, it is seriously bugging me! How can I get anywhere in life with excuses? Honestly I can't. It's a problem. I am going to try REALLY hard to not make excuses now! Some are necessary like missing a day of school because you were in the hospital having surgery or things like that! But I am not going to make any stupid ones, unnecessary ones, or half true ones! Those have come to an end! So please correct me if I'm giving one!(:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-4415172535899180355?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/4415172535899180355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/excuse-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4415172535899180355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4415172535899180355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/excuse-me.html' title='Excuse me!'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-8274423074764974567</id><published>2011-11-03T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T19:28:45.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Chameleon in a Bag of Skittles</title><content type='html'>I think I confuse myself easily...the more I think the more confused I generally am. I try and think things through to clear them up and end up more confused than I was to begin with. Darn. I need a voice of reason in my life, but then I wonder if I would listen to it. I create my own internal conflicts and it's difficult to fight against oneself. Especially when you have no idea which side to take. I want to ask someone but how can someone else help with something you can't show your internal views easily. You can't show the way your brain thinks and even more what your heart thinks. It's a difficult situation. I frustrate myself. I feel like I'm a chameleon stuck in a sea of skittles and can't figure out which color to turn. Maybe the skittles aren't important though. Maybe I shouldn't change any color at all. But then you find yourself changing colors anyway and are struggling to stop it. Yeah I need help... Ugh I'm going to go eat some potatoes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-8274423074764974567?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/8274423074764974567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/chameleon-in-bag-of-skittles.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/8274423074764974567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/8274423074764974567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/11/chameleon-in-bag-of-skittles.html' title='A Chameleon in a Bag of Skittles'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-6424555413939631256</id><published>2011-10-30T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T22:00:42.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tale Not Worth Telling</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a girl typing in her blog because her mind was racing around the track at a very illegal speed. This girl had a problem though. She could not put her thoughts into words. She sat looking at her keyboard itching to express her thoughts but somehow could not get out even one sentence. She got rather frustrated so she started typing in third person about herself thinking maybe perhaps this could be the solution she was looking for, but as of yet had no results. She got up and got a drink of water and then sat back down and still had nothing to write. She answered some science questions, petted her dog, folded a zombie dress, came back and still couldn't write even a word of her thoughts down. After sitting there for a good 20 minutes she ended her blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-6424555413939631256?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/6424555413939631256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/tale-not-worth-telling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/6424555413939631256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/6424555413939631256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/tale-not-worth-telling.html' title='A Tale Not Worth Telling'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-3653163534826822337</id><published>2011-10-24T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T09:26:57.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In arms of love</title><content type='html'>In october everything is definitely changing...&lt;br /&gt;It's been a great month, as always. But even in the greatest of times comes the worst of times. My cousin's baby just died. She was 2 months old and completely healthy. She stopped breathing for no reason. I am so sad for her :( She lives with her husband and her 4 year old son Joey and I know this will be very hard on all of them. In ways I feel their pain, from losing Rebecca and Lee. I think I have yet to get over that but time has definitely helped. I read this and it gave me comfort...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;‎"Daddy please don't look so sad, momma please don't cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Cause I'm in the arms of Jesus, and he sings me lullabies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Please try not to question God, don't think he is unkind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Don't think he sent me to you and then changed his mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;You see I'm a special child, I am needed up above.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"&gt;I'm the special gift you gave Him, a product of your love.&lt;br /&gt;I'll always be there with you, so watch the sky at night.&lt;br /&gt;Look for the brightest star and know that's my halo's brilliant light.&lt;br /&gt;You'll see me in the morning frost that mists your window pane.&lt;br /&gt;That's me in the summer showers, I'll be dancing in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;When you feel a gentle breeze from a gentle wind that blows.&lt;br /&gt;Know that it's me planting a kiss upon your nose.&lt;br /&gt;When you see a child playing and your heart feels a tug,&lt;br /&gt;Don't be sad mommy, that's just me giving your heart a hug.&lt;br /&gt;So daddy don't look so sad and momma please don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm in the arms of Jesus and he sings me lullabies."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;I don't know who wrote this poem, it made me cry. Someday I'll see my siblings again and someday she'll hold her baby in her arms again. I know they're in the best place they could be. All we can do now is live so we get that chance.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-3653163534826822337?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/3653163534826822337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/in-arms-of-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3653163534826822337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3653163534826822337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/in-arms-of-love.html' title='In arms of love'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-1875814510452653666</id><published>2011-10-08T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T21:44:10.328-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever and Always</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyiyO3nOXJ8/TpBbmrio73I/AAAAAAAAAEE/V75xvv1qKB4/s1600/grandma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyiyO3nOXJ8/TpBbmrio73I/AAAAAAAAAEE/V75xvv1qKB4/s1600/grandma.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-SJt1LjOzY/TpBf94tSkaI/AAAAAAAAAEM/1hWQJTQhZgw/s1600/flowers2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-SJt1LjOzY/TpBf94tSkaI/AAAAAAAAAEM/1hWQJTQhZgw/s320/flowers2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Do you ever have those times when you feel like you need to talk or write at the moment? Sometimes I just feel like I need to write down my feelings...which would be a lot easier if I could interpret them. This morning I asked myself , "What in the world are you doing up at 5:30 AM on a Saturday?" I tried to go back to sleep but that didn't go so well, so I've mostly been wandering around my sleeping house just thinking, and somehow this led to me my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think sleep likes to haunt me. My dreams are always the most extreme. They're always either extremely weird, extremely scary, extremely sad, or extremely happy. I dreamt about my grandma last night. When she got cancer. I miss her a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma was an amazing women. The most amazing I've ever met. When my dad was 8 his parents got divorced. My grandpa was the problem. He was using money for bad things and making not so great choices. So he left my grandma with 8 kids to raise alone. She did whatever work she could. She cleaned people's houses and churches all day long and well into the night working many other jobs too. Usually she had at least 3 jobs, yet she never, not once, missed one of her kids football, basketball, or baseball games. She never missed a choir concert or even a chess tournament. She was a dedicated women. She knew what&lt;br /&gt;was important in life and would often take breaks off during the day to spend time with her kids and have to work into the 3 or 4 in the morning to make up for it. Then somehow at 6 she'd be up singing to wake everyone up and[]&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;make them all breakfast. In the morning she made them make their beds and wash their dishes teaching them that you had to do some un-enjoyable things in love. When my dad turned 16 she gave him a car. She worked and worked to scrape up extra money and somehow every one of her kids got a car for their 16th birthday. Not a new one, but one that would take them where they wanted to go, and that's all they cared about. My grandma was always strong in the church and never failed to teach her kids the gospel always putting time aside for it. All 5 of her boys went off on missions. When her kids got older and I was around 12 she was able to retire only going occasionally to clean a house here or there. With her kids all out of the house she never forgot about them. Her house was always available when people needed a place to stay or a place to live. I think every single one of her kids came back and lived there for some period of time. When we were moving from Arizona we stayed there for 2 months while finding a house. She was extremely giving. Whenever one of her kids was in any financial distress money was coming there way, though she was not rich and had not much herself. She would always come over to my house with a loaf of banana bread she'd made, or grapes she'd grown, and many other things, always giving. She has at least 50 grand and great grand children but never once missed giving them a birthday and christmas present. We always had huge gatherings at her house and all of her children would come from wherever they lived because they loved their mom so much and wanted to spend time with her. At 76 my grandma was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The doctor said he thinks it's from having breathed in all those toxic chemicals in all her cleaning jobs. My aunt went through a divorce and my cousin had other struggles and both came to live with her and take care of her. For quite awhile she seemed as healthy as before. She did all the same things. She would even mop her floor on her hands and knees. Everyone tried to stop her from doing so much work but she refused help. She was a independent strong woman. She would do what she could and try to do more. Eventually it got to the point where she had to rest a lot and found herself easily exhausted but still she's was up walking, she was making meals, she was sitting around a big table playing cards with the whole family. She was a selfless person. When my other grandma died (who was her best friend all through life) she wept and said "I wish it was me" she cried about how she could not be there in my grandma's last days. But though my other grandma had Alzheimer's and forgot nearly everyone, she never forgot my grandma and would talk about all the fun times they had together. My grandma reached her 78th birthday which the doctor told her she would surely not reach. She got to the point where she had to lay down all day because she couldn't walk. I went over every week to keep up her chores and spend time with her. She was always so glad. I miss it. She passed away June 27th but she will never be forgotten. When they announced her death in church the bishop wept and said "The best sister in our ward passed away this week." That's who she was. Though she would never believe you if you told her she was the best at everything. The best mom, grandma, sister, example. I am so grateful for my grandma, she will be with me forever. I can only hope to be a small fraction of the women she was but that is my goal. I hope someday I can touch as many lives as she has.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-1875814510452653666?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/1875814510452653666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/forever-and-always.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1875814510452653666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1875814510452653666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/forever-and-always.html' title='Forever and Always'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyiyO3nOXJ8/TpBbmrio73I/AAAAAAAAAEE/V75xvv1qKB4/s72-c/grandma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-2177369080768700167</id><published>2011-10-06T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T21:54:23.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I like fuzzy socks :D</title><content type='html'>So October has apparently decided it wants to be november. So much for hoodies...time to pull out the coats :p&amp;nbsp;It's a nice change though. The rain is AMAZING (: Whenever it rains or snows the mountains around my house look absolutely breathtaking. They raise into the misty clouds and somehow come out more defined so you can see all the little details in each rocky crevice. They look like paintings or edited photos. Something that you have to enhance to make look that good. It makes me realize that this terrible, horrible, world is incredibly beautiful. It's funny how people want the perfect world. One without worries or debts or crimes. And in a way I want that too, but really without imperfections could the world look beautiful at all? Sometimes I wonder...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This reminds me of something I heard in the hall today at school. A girl said "I just want my happily ever after." And I thought "Doesn't everyone?" But really...do we? Is that truly what we want? When reading a fairy tale does the main character reach happily ever after quickly and then the rest of the book is about her happy wonderful life? Would you want to read that? It seems to me that it's not happily ever after that matters so much, but the story in-between. I'm not sure I ever want to reach a point happily ever after. I want to be happy (: Definitely. Maybe extremely so. But I also want to be sad over things, mad over things, frustrated about things, scared of things. If everything is perfect then what is your goal? I've realized I'm glad to have bad days and good days and everything in-between...isn't that who we are? (: What a wonderful, terrible, life (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-2177369080768700167?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/2177369080768700167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-like-fuzzy-socks-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2177369080768700167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/2177369080768700167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-like-fuzzy-socks-d.html' title='I like fuzzy socks :D'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-8385327428127258605</id><published>2011-10-03T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T15:36:44.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Month (:</title><content type='html'>October (: Finally! For some reason I'm in love with this month. I love starting to pull out the hoodies, boots, and pants. I love how the leaves start to change colors, each one so different and beautiful. I love the weather turning cooler but not too cool. I love being able to go out running in the evenings and not die from the heat! I love all the halloween decorations and the atmosphere it leaves. I love it getting darker earlier. I love my birthday. I LOVE halloween and haunted houses and ghosts and corn mazes and hot chocolate and chili (: Yes October is the perfect month (: Today I'm LOVING the rain!!!! I walked out the door to go to seminary today and BAM it started pouring! Perfect (: I love lying in my bed with the window open listening to a good storm at night. Sadly it stopped but I have my hopes up that it'll start again! Cross your fingers (: &amp;nbsp;My life's been pretty good lately, I'm so glad it's almost the end of the quarter! Next week is my birthday and then FALL BREAK!!! Yes! I'm so glad to have a few days off from school :D Let me know if anyone wants to do anything! I don't have school Thursday-Monday! (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-8385327428127258605?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/8385327428127258605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/new-month.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/8385327428127258605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/8385327428127258605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/10/new-month.html' title='A New Month (:'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-1181868300501069361</id><published>2011-09-26T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T19:22:58.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so swell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CToZbXM_jjo/ToEysynktNI/AAAAAAAAADM/kRXYungS8hs/s1600/glyph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CToZbXM_jjo/ToEysynktNI/AAAAAAAAADM/kRXYungS8hs/s320/glyph.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Today has been a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was up with the flu all night and woke up still sick, then my tv broke, but really those things don't even matter compared to what happened this afternoon :( I lost my little puppy Glyph :( We took him to the vet to be checked up and found fluid around his brain :( &amp;nbsp;He was diagnosed with&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;hydrocephalus. We found out that he was likely in constant pain and couldn't function physically or mentally because of it. There&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;was nothing we could do and we had to have him put down :( I feel like a murderer...he was only 5 weeks old and I told him he was mine forever :( I can't believe I didn't know he was in pain all this time :( Now I don't know what to do :( I will miss my little guy :( I'm glad he's out of pain though.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I'm really bad at dealing with things. I don't know why but it's extremely hard for me to cry in front of my family. None of them have cried about Glyph :( So basically i've locked myself in my room all day...which probably is only making things worse. I need to get a grip on myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy1AmcpGezA/ToEzCy6HVYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/m6obN7DCPtg/s1600/glyphy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy1AmcpGezA/ToEzCy6HVYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/m6obN7DCPtg/s320/glyphy.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Someone just left cookies at our door. I don't know who it was or who it was for and I doubt they know how my day's been, but they have no idea how much it meant. Something that made me smile today. If you're reading this and it was you, thank you so much. I mean it. It's little things like this that really aren't so little.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-1181868300501069361?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/1181868300501069361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/not-so-swell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1181868300501069361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/1181868300501069361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/not-so-swell.html' title='Not so swell'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CToZbXM_jjo/ToEysynktNI/AAAAAAAAADM/kRXYungS8hs/s72-c/glyph.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-5229412863191438796</id><published>2011-09-25T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T20:39:38.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Title lines are stupid...</title><content type='html'>What do I do when there's nothing to do...I write in my blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week wasn't all that eventful, this weekend was fun though (: Madison slept over Friday and we watched the grudge which really isn't scary at all! She was terrified though, which was quite entertaining. Then we did what any normal person does and watched little bear at 1 in the morning (: Saturday we went to Kanara falls (again) with some friends which was great! I love that place very much and had a wondrous time! I got back an hour before my date was picking me up for Tuacahns homecoming...getting ready for a dance (shower and all) in an hour is quite the adventure! But I did it! So I went to dinner and then the dance and that was the end of my night. I've spent most of today with family which is good (: Now I'm avoiding my homework...joy. Do you ever just like to lay down and think? Sometimes I find myself doing that...like now. I always seem to get my mind stuck on one thing and then can't stop thinking about it. It's rather frustrating. Ahhhh I have to yell at myself to stop but somehow that doesn't ever work. All well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love and hate nightime...&lt;br /&gt;I am a night owl. I know night is when most people sleep but to me it's when everything comes awake. It's like the worlds a whole new place (: I want to explore and be a part of it! Instead I am stuck inside...alone...while everyone's asleep. I always feel so lonely at night with nothing to do, and nowhere to go, and nobody to be with. When I was little i'd cuddle up to my big sister or sneak into my parents bed at night because I couldn't stand sleeping alone. When I was too old for that I had to sleep surrounded by stuffed animals with a stuffed animal in my arms. I always, always hated sleeping alone. I don't think I've changed...Madison laughed at me Friday when she saw me sleeping with a stuffed bunny...yeah I have problems :p But give me a break it's a really cute bunny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better go now! Goodnight...or not since I won't be sleeping (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-5229412863191438796?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/5229412863191438796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/title-lines-are-stupid.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5229412863191438796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5229412863191438796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/title-lines-are-stupid.html' title='Title lines are stupid...'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-5855116321083066580</id><published>2011-09-18T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T17:54:25.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend (:</title><content type='html'>I just realized it's been awhile since I've written in this thing. Life's been crazy lately! But mostly for the good (: This weekend was super fun! Yesterday was homecoming which was awesome! We went hiking at canaraville falls which is amazing! I highly suggest you go (and invite me) Later we had a photographer take our pictures and went out to dinner at pasta factory (one of my favorite restaurants) and then went to the dance which was randomly at tai pan trading! It was great though! Our group was really super fun and so was my date (: Today has been alright I woke up kinda sick but not too bad. Pretty bored though (: I hate when that happens! Do you ever have the problem when your so bored all you are doing is thinking and you can't stop thinking about something! It's sooo annoying! All well i'll survive (: I should probably go do something...write more soon! P.S. Jared is an amazing golfer &amp;gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-5855116321083066580?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/5855116321083066580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-just-realized-its-been-awhile-since.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5855116321083066580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5855116321083066580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-just-realized-its-been-awhile-since.html' title='Weekend (:'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-3052790560195192513</id><published>2011-09-06T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T21:15:55.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm...</title><content type='html'>Wow what a week. This was insane move until you drop week. But I am officially moved (: Finally :p Do you ever have those nights where your mind just keeps whirring around and around. Filled with thoughts and ideas and worries and happiness and sadness and everything in between? Yeah...that's tonight. I confuse myself quite greatly. Today was a pretty good day. I wrote about my damnation in History, that was pretty fun. And I scored a lot better than I thought I would on the CPT. Now I just need to do piles of homework...but like I said...my mind's going crazy at the moment and refuses to focus. Hence my righting in my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever just like talking to someone? Like you found someone you really not connect with exactly...but someone who you just feel like you can be completely yourself and open and honest with. Not that you like them as anything more than a friend, but they're just that friend that you need. I'm debating whether I like that or not. It really confuses me and I don't understand how or why. Yeah I don't really make any sense...sorry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was thinking about doing rugby this year ;p Then my mom and dad said I would get killed and can't do it...lame :/ I told them friends of mine were going to and they said "They're not as small as you" I hate that...I could do it...all well. Maybe I can talk them into it. If not then I will surely survive :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish it would rain. Not just rain. But POUR! I want monsooning! It's like I'm just waiting for it to come. Hurry up clouds! I miss rain we don't get it nearly enough, but then again that makes it extra special so maybe it's not such a bad thing. There's nothing like drifting to sleep to a good storm though (: I might have to start up some rain dancing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or my homework...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cya Later Bloggy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-3052790560195192513?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/3052790560195192513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/hmm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3052790560195192513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3052790560195192513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/09/hmm.html' title='Hmm...'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-4416371761264338896</id><published>2011-08-31T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T23:17:08.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just put me in the blender already!</title><content type='html'>It's probably just me but love stories often put me in a bad mood :/ I went and saw The Little Mermaid at Tuacahn tonight and loved it! Yeah...and then I felt depressed. Those love stories are so un-realistic! I love/hate them! Ugh they give me such mixed emotions. It's like it sets you up to think "Oh I want a love just like that." And then you realize that's not going to happen...joy. Yet I still love the little mermaid! What is wrong with me?! Obviously lots of things considering I'm only venting this because I can't really vent what I need to vent about! It's driving me crazy! Don't you hate when the thing that's bugging you most you don't know who to talk to or can't :/ Okay...definitely need to calm down. Time to think of happy things right? I really have tons to be happy about! I have tons of amazing friends and family I couldn't go a day without! Thanks guys you really are the best (: And I actually had a really good night and a great day minus the "I might be going blind scare" Which hopefully is not the case...(: Now I get to study for a math test which will increase my knowledge (: My dates tonight were so great (: They made dinner themselves and it was amazing! Thanks guys (: Well tomorrow's another busy day...gotta go do homework (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-4416371761264338896?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/4416371761264338896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/just-put-me-in-blender-already.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4416371761264338896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4416371761264338896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/just-put-me-in-blender-already.html' title='Just put me in the blender already!'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-3709418697543735764</id><published>2011-08-30T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T17:36:41.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School, Moving, Homecoming ect. (:</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ezD7uUfKtXY/Tl2Bu_LSjRI/AAAAAAAAADA/OuFo3rKgXPI/s1600/downsize1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ezD7uUfKtXY/Tl2Bu_LSjRI/AAAAAAAAADA/OuFo3rKgXPI/s320/downsize1.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qHcggzIDzWE/Tl2BxNy1dPI/AAAAAAAAADE/-EA0jKkiMws/s1600/downsize+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qHcggzIDzWE/Tl2BxNy1dPI/AAAAAAAAADE/-EA0jKkiMws/s320/downsize+3.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1YgwecgFKCQ/Tl2CDOvUrfI/AAAAAAAAADI/MMqkJWUbNQE/s1600/downsize+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1YgwecgFKCQ/Tl2CDOvUrfI/AAAAAAAAADI/MMqkJWUbNQE/s320/downsize+5.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So I haven't written in quite awhile (: Oops my life has been/is chaotic!! School started 3 weeks ago and so far I'm lovin it (: 4 AP classes is pretty crazy though especially because we've been doing moving preps all week. We have to paint like the whole house! It's a ton of work but worthwhile. Soon we'll be moving all the furniture in! Yippeeee! High-school's a blast! Friday we creamed the other team at the football came it was 57 to 0. GO FLYERS! Homecoming's in september and I'm super excited! Last night I got asked by Sam Dixon via pigeon!!!! Crazy right?! He left a box with a pigeon by my door and I sent my answer back on the pigeons foot this morning (: And it actually made it back to him! HALLELUJAH!!!!! My agenda for the rest of the week is pretty much packing, packing, moving, painting, ripping out floor, packing, did I mention packing? Tomorrow I'm going to see the little mermaid at tuacahn though! Really excited (: I heard it's amazing (: And I'm dragging Madison with me to my yw/ym group date night. lol And this weekend is (DRUMROLL) PEACH DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I ABSOLUTELY LOOOOOVE peach days! My family always gets together and goes to the parade and all the festivities which I will never be too old for (: So I guess I have something to look forward to! Well I better go paint some more...joy... write more soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-3709418697543735764?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/3709418697543735764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/school-moving-homecoming-ect.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3709418697543735764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/3709418697543735764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/school-moving-homecoming-ect.html' title='School, Moving, Homecoming ect. (:'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ezD7uUfKtXY/Tl2Bu_LSjRI/AAAAAAAAADA/OuFo3rKgXPI/s72-c/downsize1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-7227958080087820614</id><published>2011-08-09T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T22:56:19.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmm....new goals? (:</title><content type='html'>The last few days haven't been too exciting (: i've just mostly been packing. On sunday I got an appointment for an interview for my patriarchal blessings so that's exciting! (: Tonight though hasn't been the best. I'm just really sick of promises. It seems like they're never kept. That's the whole point of a promise. Not breaking it, right? And yet people do it so easily with so little guilt. It hurts to know you mean that little to them. That they don't respect you enough to be honest and have integrity. I guess the older you get though the more you see the cruelty in this world and the more you don't want to see it. Truthfully sometimes I feel like running away from it all. It's a pretty scary world we're in. Watching the news and seeing murder, rape, abuse, homeless, starving, and people who just are corrupt or even people who don't care. It's hard to see and to believe. I've always struggled to watch the news or to read newspapers with matters such as that. It rips me up thinking that people can do that to each-other. It's not right. But I know those people aren't all bad and there really are so many good people and so many people with good hearts. It makes me want to make a difference so bad. I always want to make a difference and to help people. It frustrates me that I can't figure out where to start. Sometimes it seems like one little girl can't make any difference. But I'm still going to try. If I could just change one person's life then I would be the happiest girl alive. This school year I'm making some new goals. One is to try and be optimistic in my thinking and doing. To take on challenges with a better attitude and look at the big picture. Another is to be nice to EVERYONE. Not just my friends or family. I really want to extend out to &amp;nbsp;everyone and to try and meet new people and be friends with them all. Sometimes all somebody needs is a friend and everyone deserves a friend, everyone. I've come to realize it really doesn't matter how someone looks or dresses. It doesn't matter how someone talks or moves. Skin color doesn't matter, age doesn't matter, ancestry doesn't matter, money doesn't matter. Everyone is their own person. What they are on the inside is what matters. And I believe almost everyone, even some of those thought of as the worst, have good inside of them. Maybe they just haven't found a reason to bring it out. Hopefully by being friends with everyone they will know they're not alone. Someone cares. I care. I really do. I hope to show that this year and to grow and have an amazing year! I know it won't be easy but it wouldn't be the same if it was. I'm taking this challenge and anyone who wants to do it with me that would be amazing! (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-7227958080087820614?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/7227958080087820614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/hmmmnew-goals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/7227958080087820614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/7227958080087820614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/hmmmnew-goals.html' title='Hmmm....new goals? (:'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-5465153143415515424</id><published>2011-08-03T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T21:57:13.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marathon, Packing, Swimming, Meetings, Marriage OH MY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;So I have in-fact just discovered that you can change the color of your writing! Technology is AMAZING (: Today was alright. I started off with a 6 mile run i've been doing in the mornings for awhile (: I'm hoping to get up to 13 miles a day and plan on running in the next half marathon. That always is a great start to a day for me. After that I spent most of the day doing...you'll never guess...packing! Oh joy! The only thing that made it good was listening to music while doing it. Music seems to make everything better (: After all that joyfulness I went out to quail lake to go boating but found out there was too much lightning, so instead we just went swimming, which was fun anyway (: Then I sat through 2 hours of adults talking on and on in a meeting for girls camp next year. It was great seeing all my camp leaders again though! They're awesome (: I'm really excited for next year! It's sad that soon i'll be too old to go. Speaking of getting older everyone seems to be getting married. I just found out yet another friend of mine is engaged. It's so weird seeing people who just recently graduated from high-school already engaged and getting married or already married. What is up with this! 18 and 19 seems so young for such a huge thing, yet everyone tells me i'll be married by 19. I don't understand this! That's like a year or two away. Not gonna happen. I am going to be a 57 year old cat woman and then find myself a 59 year old man who is also lonely and loves cats and we'll get married when I'm 58 and have a big feline wedding (: Now i've just got to break the news to my mom..(: But really it's the perfect plan right? Wish me luck (:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-5465153143415515424?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/5465153143415515424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/marathon-packing-swimming-meetings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5465153143415515424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/5465153143415515424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/marathon-packing-swimming-meetings.html' title='Marathon, Packing, Swimming, Meetings, Marriage OH MY!'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-549293491837760513</id><published>2011-08-02T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T21:57:45.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Photo-shoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bF6n4nx7A0U/TjjT3rJTJwI/AAAAAAAAABE/SkkaqUHjGgU/s1600/272806_2010882885527_1647408122_1921570_613123_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bF6n4nx7A0U/TjjT3rJTJwI/AAAAAAAAABE/SkkaqUHjGgU/s320/272806_2010882885527_1647408122_1921570_613123_o.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-phfduy1dmZg/TjjT6N0bdbI/AAAAAAAAABI/cdvZKs7Qkpk/s1600/273060_2010910526218_1647408122_1921624_71222_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-phfduy1dmZg/TjjT6N0bdbI/AAAAAAAAABI/cdvZKs7Qkpk/s320/273060_2010910526218_1647408122_1921624_71222_o.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fKE2VghlKtg/TjjT78EM3dI/AAAAAAAAABM/OmeXaff5SJk/s1600/273127_2010899325938_1647408122_1921615_5090299_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fKE2VghlKtg/TjjT78EM3dI/AAAAAAAAABM/OmeXaff5SJk/s320/273127_2010899325938_1647408122_1921615_5090299_o.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Here are a few of the pictures from my first photo-shoot (: I know they're not the best and definitely have found much I need to improve on next time! Thanks to Shalynne, Madison, and Beautrice for being my guinea pigs for this (: Tell me what you think though! (: Be honest and let me know what you like and dislike please (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-549293491837760513?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/549293491837760513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-photo-shoot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/549293491837760513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/549293491837760513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-photo-shoot.html' title='First Photo-shoot'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w_6PW2U6nUI/TjjTcFzFetI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WoJ74X4s1FE/s72-c/273182_2010906006105_1647408122_1921620_7721663_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9047142946156451107.post-4735242555934891596</id><published>2011-08-02T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T21:37:10.758-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S'/><title type='text'>Let the Blogging Begin! (:</title><content type='html'>So after reading many blogs and admiring them i've officially decided to start my own (: I'm absolutely dreadful at keeping up a journal and this seems like a much better and easier alternative. It also is a good place for me to post some of my amateur photography and you can tell me what i think! Hopefully i'll get a photo-shoot I took recently posted soon! Let me know what your thoughts on it are! ....And here I go (: This has been an AMAZING summer! I'm sad that it's coming to an end but am also looking forward to another year of high-school! Last year was great! This year I'll be a junior at Dixie High School which blows my mind! I don't feel any older than last year, yet in a couple years i'll be graduated and off to college. Wow....crazy how fast life seems to be going. My life this week is insane...as in insanely tedious! We just bought a new house and are moving in 8 days! Ahhhh we haven't even put a dent in all the packing we need to do! Yet here I am on the computer writing this (: I'm excited to move I love the new house but it's a LOT to do with school starting! Especially since I'm taking 4 AP classes this year! Yeah I'm not so sure how smart signing up for all of those was...guess we'll see how that goes! Anyway I'm going to try and write in this blog at least a couple times a week, hopefully more (: So far I haven't done very much this week. Yesterday my sister left for Vernal for 20 days so after the craziness of getting her packed and out of the house I didn't really do much. I pretty much had a lazy day (: Today i've been cleaning and packing and blah blah blah nothing exciting! That's probably how the majority of my week's going to be with so much to do! Pray that i'll survive! (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9047142946156451107-4735242555934891596?l=sapphirerain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/feeds/4735242555934891596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/let-blogging-begin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4735242555934891596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9047142946156451107/posts/default/4735242555934891596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphirerain.blogspot.com/2011/08/let-blogging-begin.html' title='Let the Blogging Begin! (:'/><author><name>Melissa Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10802885058397088261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-npelg1Mmyog/TvOpFTLGUlI/AAAAAAAAAEs/b9-pPR3rXRA/s220/downsize-1%2B%25282%2529.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
