<?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-5677319285020701366</id><updated>2011-10-11T04:23:10.158-04:00</updated><category term='dreads'/><category term='Tokio Hotel'/><category term='flowers'/><category term='bouquet'/><category term='Bill Kaulitz'/><category term='wedding'/><category term='toe'/><category term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>The story of my life...</title><subtitle type='html'>Where I've been, where I am, and where I hope to go.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-3552760220363121239</id><published>2011-01-11T00:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:39:00.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WAR EAGLE!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I know I haven't posted in a while, but only one thing needs to be noted:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 211px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560798554400390738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/TSvs0qaKflI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/ZPIz-Qgo-Dk/s320/auburndynastybanner76195.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WAAAAAAAAARRRR EAGLE!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-3552760220363121239?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/3552760220363121239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2011/01/war-eagle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3552760220363121239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3552760220363121239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2011/01/war-eagle.html' title='WAR EAGLE!!!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/TSvs0qaKflI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/ZPIz-Qgo-Dk/s72-c/auburndynastybanner76195.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-7465750941873541449</id><published>2010-11-01T23:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T00:29:06.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'>AAilfuhafilhalsfiasdkfsssssssssss</title><content type='html'>Hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a mood today, but better update before I forget for another 10 years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.... I still work for Honda... longest 5 months of my life since I started working there. Still love my coworkers (most) but now I work in the Customer Service department and it... is different. I was completely used to telling people to pay up, "no you can't wait to make a payment, you need to do it now". Now I have to be super nice and all "How may I help you? ....... Is there anything else I can assist you with? Thank you so much for your call!" It's a hard job I feel like I suck doing. I honestly don't have enough space in my brain for all the policies and procedures Honda has. I also don't get the point of waiving late fees just because the customer had a big enough tantrum about it... late fees are there because you paid LATE. That's the purpose of them. Take the late fees away and, just like the Friends episode with Phoebe and the Christmas Trees, they don't get to fulfill their life purpose. Sad late fees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also super excited since the holidays are soon! And this week is the only week in November that I don't have a day off from work! YESSSSSSS! I go to NYC at the end of next week and won't get back til the beginning of the following week, then Thanksgiving and a doctor's appointment. And this weekend I may be heading to the mountains with my parents! I love roadtrips of any kind, and I've been dying to go to the mountains for a while!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh about the doctor... I've been getting sick to my stomach every few weeks for over a year now. It makes my stomach hurt so badly that I get chills from the pain and can't stand. Joy. My doctor's thought I had Crohn's Disease or something else I can't remember. Or my thyroid, or gallbladder or a million things. Apparently I don't have those... or anything else they can think of right now. I don't have any kind of medicine to prevent me from getting sick, only for making me feel better once I &lt;em&gt;am &lt;/em&gt;sick. Joy again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT quickly with my obsessions of the week... Snowboarding (and snowboarder Kevin Pearce), hockey (has been an obsession for years, but I just went to a game after not going at all last season and I'm hooked again... not to mention the Russian rookie on ATL's team named Alex Burmistrov... Mmmm), my new and amazing red coach purse, and frozen yogurt places like Yogli Mogli and Pinkberry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...sleepy time. Work in the AM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-7465750941873541449?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/7465750941873541449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2010/11/aailfuhafilhalsfiasdkfsssssssssss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7465750941873541449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7465750941873541449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2010/11/aailfuhafilhalsfiasdkfsssssssssss.html' title='AAilfuhafilhalsfiasdkfsssssssssss'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-3008692238351668140</id><published>2010-06-27T03:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T04:04:30.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I suck at blogging...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/TCcF9d2f7GI/AAAAAAAAAH0/EmFgkJkCv2U/s1600/me2-755631.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487361224517610594" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/TCcF9d2f7GI/AAAAAAAAAH0/EmFgkJkCv2U/s320/me2-755631.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First post in 6 months. Wow. Nice one, Emily...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... a quick update on the first half of the year is in order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last post was the day before graduation. So... I graduated. I "walked" and everything (though I was still running a fever with Swine Flu, Mom made me go). My grandmother was so happy she cried, made me feel a bit awkward and proud, blah blah blah. I moved home to ATL... it was very sad to leave Auburn and my friends (but good riddance to my roommate and the hellish situations she gave me/put me through). I then decided to take a bit of time off to get over being sick and adjust to living with my parents again and having every one of my actions analyzed. One night out with one of my "guy friends", my grandmother called me every half hour til I came home. I finally got home around 4am and actually woke my mother up to complain about &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; mother calling me all night. But good news is, I think my grandmother realized how much I hate being called and she doesn't do it anymore. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I started looking for a job, mostly applying to be a flight attendant or wedding planner's assistant (still think I would LOVE those jobs!), but I started my first full time "big girl" job at Honda Finance last month. I'm a customer accounts representative for the region 2 financial office of American Honda Motor Company. Yeah, I'm a collector. I call people all day who don't pay their bills. People yell at me, people tell me to eff off. Fun times. Thank God my coworkers are so awesome! I already love them all to death! Just a few days ago, one of my supervisors was distracting me while I was trying to leave someone a message and I said my name was the customers name, which wouldn't have been so bad except my supervisor hid his head because he was laughing so hard and another coworker erupted into the loudest laughter I've ever heard... which made me laugh through the rest of my voice mail message. I'm fairly sure that person I called will NEVER view Honda in a professional light again. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thank God for this job opportunity! I feel rich with a paycheck that is more than the $150 max I would get at my old job (but I still work at Build-A-Bear on some weekends). I now am completely responsible for the expenses of my dog. I feel like a grown up with a kid. Unreal. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... that's pretty much the last 6 months. Yep. Oh, and I got to go to the beach for a bit right before I started my new job (I literally was at work less than 12 hours after I got back to ATL). I stayed at my uncle's condo, which I am &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; wanting to move in to. I love it there. It always feels like home. When I sit on the comfy couch with the balcony doors open and read a book while listening to the sound of the ocean waves, that tiny condo is absolute heaven. Aaahh... I want to go back &lt;em&gt;right now!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current (new and old-but-still-going-strong) obsessions: buying cute work clothes and shoes, the ocean, &lt;em&gt;The Silmarillion&lt;/em&gt; by JRR Tolkien and the book's characters of the seven sons of Feanor (who can resist literature with 7 strong, unbelievably attractive young men?? and yes, I'm a dork), headbands, classical music, art... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... hopefully I'll have at least one more update in year 2010. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-3008692238351668140?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/3008692238351668140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-suck-at-blogging.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3008692238351668140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3008692238351668140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-suck-at-blogging.html' title='I suck at blogging...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/TCcF9d2f7GI/AAAAAAAAAH0/EmFgkJkCv2U/s72-c/me2-755631.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-9050011670626843331</id><published>2009-12-17T08:35:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T04:08:34.561-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oink Oink... but for real this time</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416208053048573298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Syo8hyeR_XI/AAAAAAAAAHc/5SNYwtdWxU0/s320/me-787080.jpg" /&gt;So... I finally finished with my college career!! WOOT! I get to become an official alumnae of Auburn University tomorrow! I'm super excited, but really bummed at the same time. After all the complaining about Auburn I have done, I'm not ready to leave it. I don't want to leave the town that has been my home for over 5 years, and I really don't want to leave my friends. I'll miss hanging out with my Spanish Civilization crew. I'll miss my sorority sisters. I'll miss stupid Haley Center and its confusing quadrants. I never have to sit through another lecture for as long as I live... unless I decide to go to graduate school... And hats off to this girl Mei Tsutsumi at meiillustration.com for this cute little drawing... I googled for an image that might summarize my current feelings, and hers nailed it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I made straight... Bs this semester. Kind of a bummer, but hey... it was my last semester. Of course I went out with friends a few times when I should have been studying. I think that was time well spent. My whole family is coming in town tomorrow morning so we can take the obligatory Samford Lawn graduation pictures. But sad day... it's 90% chance of rain tomorrow. Hopefully I can still get some good pictures. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Worst part of all this: I started feeling kind of crappy last weekend at my parents' house. I got a bit of a fever and slept a lot, but I had to go back to school for my last final on Tuesday morning. Tuesday morning rolls around... I feel like absolute sh!t. I feel like sick dookie and I think I'm going to fail my final since my dookie-feeling self didn't really study. Anyway, I suffer through the final, hop the transit back to my apartment, hop into my car and head to the Urgent Care center. I sit there for a bit... waiting for the nurse to call me back so she can weigh me (worst part), get my blood pressure (always on the lower end... and the reason why I'm like a drunk when you try to wake me up in the morning), prick my finger, and take my temperature. Hmm... fever of 101... no wonder I felt a little off during my final. After I told her all my symptoms, she tells me to blow my nose, but don't wipe it. EW! She then takes a cotton swab and swabs my boogies... I'm convinced she has the worst job ever. They take my wonderful sample and test it for Swine Flu or H1N1 whatever the proper name for it is now... and it's POSITIVE. Crap. Thanks, God... for your wonderful gift to celebrate graduation. Swine Flu. And I think this is the second time I've had Swine Flu, but the first time I didn't go to the doctor. I only went because my symptoms were worse this time. Apparently that's why I have had Swine Flu twice... there is a newer, more severe strain that started showing up recently. Looks like I'm the factory tester for Swine Flu strains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So... I finally got rid of my fever about 12 hours ago and have been stuck in bed in my lonely apartment for the past 3 days now. I can't even tell you how many movies I have watched... and the entire first season of NBCs show Community. Hopefully I can keep my fever away and I'll no longer be considered "contagious" by tonight. Thank goodness I won't have to graduate with a doctor's mask on my face, but with some of the crappy mess-ups I've had to deal with from Auburn and the officials, maybe I sould cough into my hand a few extra times before I shake their hands on my walk across the stage. ;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm... makes you think just how humans got "swine flu"... Rule #1: Don't lick pigs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 386px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416209795712444562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Syo-HOZuaJI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ExAUW5li2w4/s320/clip_image0011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-9050011670626843331?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/9050011670626843331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/12/oink-oink-but-for-real-this-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/9050011670626843331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/9050011670626843331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/12/oink-oink-but-for-real-this-time.html' title='Oink Oink... but for real this time'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Syo8hyeR_XI/AAAAAAAAAHc/5SNYwtdWxU0/s72-c/me-787080.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-6729527278867216280</id><published>2009-11-04T21:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T21:52:11.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*sigh* continued</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SvI9x99Wl2I/AAAAAAAAAHU/DNmV3lCwF5k/s1600-h/pissed_off.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400446831825426274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SvI9x99Wl2I/AAAAAAAAAHU/DNmV3lCwF5k/s320/pissed_off.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh my gosh, when I thought it couldn't get worse, I went to go make dinner... and my roomie left my food out on the counter while she took it out to get to something behind it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Awesome. My food... ruined. Thanks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I remembered that a few weeks ago, she was going to do me a favor and meet a friend on campus to give them my football ticket . Her phone "didn't work" and she didn't get to give it to my friend who had to buy a ticket from someone else. Granted, I'm pissed at my friend who didn't call me when I said "If you can't get in touch with her, CALL ME!!". Obviously, that means "don't call me" in her language. I was excited about $35 extra dollars of spending money. But no, nothing can go right if it involves my roomie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-6729527278867216280?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/6729527278867216280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/11/sigh-continued.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/6729527278867216280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/6729527278867216280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/11/sigh-continued.html' title='*sigh* continued'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SvI9x99Wl2I/AAAAAAAAAHU/DNmV3lCwF5k/s72-c/pissed_off.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-7035070419490272020</id><published>2009-11-03T22:32:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T23:25:45.159-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*sigh*</title><content type='html'>Ok brace yourselves... I know most of my posts are "rants", but get ready for the mother of all rants...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T FREAKING STAND THE WAY MY ROOMMATE KEEPS THE APARTMENT!! Ugh!! Seriously!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400097043527688162" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SvD_pnAa3-I/AAAAAAAAAHM/VjzihziXbWE/s320/clean.jpg" /&gt;First I should probably say that I love her to death. I met her freshman year in college when she pledged my sorority the semester after I did. She's awesome and I'll never say she isn't.&lt;br /&gt;But her lack of cleanliness is NOT awesome at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to live together about 2 years ago. I lived in the room across from her in the sorority dorm, so I knew she had a bit of a problem with picking up after herself. I asked her before we signed any type of lease... "Will you make the apartment all messy like the dorms??" Her reply: "No, I just keep messes in my room. The common areas are always clean." .......... Ok I have to call bullshit on that one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer before we moved in, I worked really hard to pick out furniture and decorations for our place. She told me to go ahead and do that since she's not that into decorating. That made my day. The decor in good ol' #8203 at The Reserve wasn't exactly my style (Sorry Allison and Liz!! But the whole "Mexican-Restaurant-With-A-Hammock-On-The-Wall" just made me smile... but go ahead and poke fun at my bullfighting poster! :) ). I was happy to put my own personal touch on a new living room. I never made decisions without asking my roommate how she felt about it first. I planned A LOT!! I coordinated EVERY thing in that living room perfectly. I spent A LOT!! The one apple green pillow on our couch is freakin POTTERY BARN!! NOT CHEAP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my problem. I am my mother. I agree with every ounce of my being that everything has its place. Once you take something out of its place to use it, put it back when you are done. That obviously does not happen in my apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk through the front door after a stressful day of class and the last thing I want to do is enter ANOTHER stressful environment. It stresses me out BECAUSE I WANT TO CLEAN IT!!! Currently down stairs, the living room is full of random boxes and Halloween costumes, empty coke cans, scattered trinkets, the cover on one of my chairs is falling off, and the pillows for the couch are on the floor. THE EFFING POTTERY BARN PILLOW. ON. THE. FLOORRRRRRRRRRRRR. What the freaking hell is that?????? It's a freaking $60 pillow made of linen and a tortoise shell button. The linen is wrinkled and the button is falling off because people put it on the floor and LAY on it! Pottery Barn pillows are NOT for laying on!! It's outright disrespectful and not courteous to treat someone else's things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the only one who ever cleans the place! And when I really want it clean is when I have guests coming in town. The apartment is so dirty, it's always a mad dash to the finish line to get it clean before the guests come! I'll give my roomie credit that she did clean the basement, but that's because she had a Halloween party last year and the basement was caked in candy corn. My roommate only just recently (a year later) cleaned out the basement because we had bugs down there. You think?!?! You left effing candy corn out on the floor of a basement for A YEAR!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen is another story. The kitchen table is never used because it has all her crap on it. The floor is always dirty no matter how many times I mop. The counters, stove top, and microwave are probably breeding grounds for the next plague virus. I never take out the trash in the kitchen, because I figure my roommate needs to clean up something (how bitchy of me, but I can't play mommy to someone older than I am). I never have friends come over because I would be ashamed for anyone to see the trash and food everywhere. I have no clue how she isn't embarrassed having people over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, my bedroom isn't always the cleanest, but I clean most of it at least once a week. And NONE of the crap downstairs is mine. As much as I love my roomie (And I really do, even though I just sounded like a complete bitch complaining about her habits), I'm really glad I graduate and move out next month. The only thing is I have to find someone who wants to sublease. If only they knew what they would be getting into. Then I would never find a subleaser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was way longer than I thought and I only feel like I got half of my frustrations out. Oh AND I get home from ATL this week and someone has finished off all my bottled water. Ok. Maybe all my frustrations are out now. Oh one more... there's even her crap on the landing of the stairs outside our bedroom doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I was going to go to bed, but now I'm all fired up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-7035070419490272020?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/7035070419490272020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/11/sigh.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7035070419490272020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7035070419490272020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/11/sigh.html' title='*sigh*'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SvD_pnAa3-I/AAAAAAAAAHM/VjzihziXbWE/s72-c/clean.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-574406932806770128</id><published>2009-09-17T20:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T20:13:23.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please don't be ignorant</title><content type='html'>I was just browsing the flair on facebook... and realized that every other piece of crap flair is "anti-Obama" or "anti-capitalism" or "I'll Keep my money, guns, and freedom. You can keep the change."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly someone's still a little sour over the November election. Well, grab a tissue and get over it. Clearly someone doesn't realize that this country is NOT TURNING TO CAPITALISM OR SOCIALISM or whatever! Seriously. Take a look at the health care plans. Take a look at Canada's national healthcare. It works up there. Maybe it will work here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get how some people don't like "change". But considering the direction that everything took while Bush 2.0 was in office, I'm up for any kind of "change". If these people making the flair were content with the way the country and economy was going before Obama, they can go buy their own country and bring it down. Don't screw America over. Give Obama a chance. You assume everything he's doing is bad just because he's Democrat. I'm not saying that all Republicans are like this (maybe only the extreme ones), but it's sure making "republican" and "ignorance" sound like the same word to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No offense to all my republican friends. And you know my opinion and I are outnumbered here in AL. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-574406932806770128?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/574406932806770128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/please-dont-be-ignorant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/574406932806770128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/574406932806770128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/please-dont-be-ignorant.html' title='Please don&apos;t be ignorant'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-8060178523687437694</id><published>2009-09-14T04:29:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T02:38:14.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MTV VMAs 2009</title><content type='html'>I'm a huge fan of the Video Music Awards that come on MTV every fall. Even though Tokio Hotel wasn't there this year (Best New Artist 2008 what what!), it's always fun to watch. You never know what will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year's VMAs were awesome. Simply because of two things: Kanye West and Lady Gaga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was the beginning of the awards show. The first award given (I thin&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq3_1aFasOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/moWmGxIl7jA/s1600-h/hiphopmediatraining-17155512-1252899830.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381238422777802978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq3_1aFasOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/moWmGxIl7jA/s320/hiphopmediatraining-17155512-1252899830.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;k) was for the Best Female Video. Nominees were Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, blah blah blah. Taylor swift won. I didn't think she'd win, but I love Taylor Swift. Her video was awesome, so whatever. She was in the middle of her acceptance speech when Kanye "I'm-the-biggest-ass-ever" West interrupted her. He said he would let Taylor finish, but Beyonce had the most amazing video. How awkward for Taylor. And she didn't get to finish her speech. Thank God Beyonce is so classy and invited Taylor to finish her speech when Beyonce won for best video. Kanye should have been thrown out. He also needs to learn some manners and to shut up. So, Mr. Master of Douchebaggery, frankly no one cares about what you have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4B3v-7HxI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tW0c2nfCQ_s/s1600-h/lady-gaga-vma09-stage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 229px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381240662039142162" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4B3v-7HxI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tW0c2nfCQ_s/s320/lady-gaga-vma09-stage.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The best part of the night was watching Lady Gaga. Genius!! Sheo's so weird and eccentric and I love her. She had many outfits that were crazy, including this black mess that she couldn't move her neck in, a flaming red Slim Jim looking outfit, and her feather headpiece (like Russell Brand said: "She's become an ESKIMO!!") at the end that made her face look like a nest and the perfect place to lay an egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Her performance of "Paparazzi" was so strange, I loved it. "Paparazzi" is my favorite Lady Gaga song. She sounded amazing during the performance, but then it got a little... as People tweeted, "Violent". She heads over to a piano, starts playing, gets up and starts "bleeding" all over the place. Then, she raises above the stage "dead". LOL! I wish I had the balls to be as different as Lady Gaga is. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4EzFC0sUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VHnCyx2mgBU/s1600-h/lady-gaga-blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 167px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381243880328180034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4EzFC0sUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VHnCyx2mgBU/s320/lady-gaga-blog.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4EypIQGxI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PygFmpYtKAQ/s1600-h/lady-gaga-show-9139-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381243872834755346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4EypIQGxI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PygFmpYtKAQ/s320/lady-gaga-show-9139-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq78DVHfgAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/xyovzhDKtg0/s1600-h/lady-gaga-pg51470.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 201px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381515738892697602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq78DVHfgAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/xyovzhDKtg0/s320/lady-gaga-pg51470.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381250277235216946" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq4KnbYT0jI/AAAAAAAAAG8/h6axD1cV0JI/s320/90714930.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-8060178523687437694?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/8060178523687437694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/mtv-vmas-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/8060178523687437694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/8060178523687437694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/mtv-vmas-2009.html' title='MTV VMAs 2009'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sq3_1aFasOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/moWmGxIl7jA/s72-c/hiphopmediatraining-17155512-1252899830.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-7802538481614206847</id><published>2009-09-06T03:29:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T03:58:30.968-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant o' the week</title><content type='html'>I don't get it... I cook (darn yummy food too), I clean, I put forth effort to not look like a bum when I roll out of bed, and I'm fun (I think) but I'm STILL SINGLE. WTF? If God's making me wait this long, the boy better be darn good. OH EFF!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While listening to my current theme song, "Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Buble, I can't decide if I feel hopeful or depressed. Both?? Yeah, both...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoLJ0dqEHks"&gt;Michael Buble - Haven't Met You Yet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-7802538481614206847?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/7802538481614206847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/rant-o-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7802538481614206847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7802538481614206847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/rant-o-week.html' title='Rant o&apos; the week'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-4920101598997087472</id><published>2009-09-02T06:11:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T18:33:35.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oink Oink... Back to School!</title><content type='html'>I can't sleep so I'm writing a blog entry. The beauty of only having class on Tuesdays/Thursdays...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started a little over 2 weeks ago. Thank God I was able to get into the last class I needed to graduate! So December 18th will be one HUGE party in Alabama. Best. Day. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only crappy thing about only having class twice a week is that on those days, I am on campus from 8am til 3:30 or so. I know that doesn't sound that bad, especially for those of you who have a real job, but I haven't had to show up somewhere for that long without the incentive of an hourly salary since high school. And I didn't miss that. The worst part about the day is it starts at 8am with 2 and a half hours straight of Business Spanish. Then I have Masterpieces of Spanish Literature and finish with Spanish-American Civilizations. Joy. Oh well... every class day I struggle to stay awake through is one day closer to never having class again in my life. Sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if school isn't uninviting enough, Auburn is having a bit of a Swine Flu problem. Awesome. I have no immune system, so this semester should be soooooo fun. People in my classes are already sick with the Swine Flu, so I'm just waiting for the porky virus to take a hop and a skip to my desk a few spots away. I have heard rumors of the university thinking about closing dorms or even the school if it gets much worse. If they cancel school, I'm still coming to class, dammit! I've got a graduation to attend this December. After that, peace out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note... you guys all know me. You know I love to cook things. That's what I do on Friday nights when I get bored. It sounds kind of sad, but it relaxes me. Recently I have been trying to cook for a certain guy I like. Mom said to write a blog like the Julie/Julia Project (the girl who cooked her way though Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child and wrote a blog about it). My blog, naturally, would be about finding my way to a man's heart through cooking. However, I think this guy is interested in someone else. So poo on him and me cooking for him. Thanks to his "man-whoreness", my blog was dead before it began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Liz might find this funny... I had my car mistakenly towed from my apartment complex. I didn't have to pay for it or anything, but it's pretty funny that it got towed when it wasn't supposed to have been. Maybe it's karma for getting your car towed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... randomness:&lt;br /&gt;• I just turned 23. I'm officially old, because I remember when my sister Christina turned 23 and I made fun of her for being so old. Now it's my turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• FOOTBALL SEASON STARTS THIS WEEKEND!!! If we lose to LA Tech, I'm done being an Auburn fan. For real this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• I have just discovered the wonder of Target's necklaces... the pearls with ribbon kind. I've bought a million lately. I actually buy outfits to go with some of these necklaces. That's how much I love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• I went to the Ole Auburn Ale House (or for Mandi: "O-lee Auburn A-lee House"... tee hee)with a sorority sister for dinner and drinks tonight. There was an awesome Celtic group with fiddles and everything. I really want to go to Ireland now. Anyone coming with??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tokio Hotel update (because I can't remember if I posted this before... deal with it): Album "Humanoid" will be released October 6th in the States. Single "Automatic/Automatisch" will be released September 22nd. WOOOOOT! Just a quick pic of Bill. Geez... I love his smile. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sp5F3vyKyMI/AAAAAAAAAGE/MdkeQygXkZk/s1600-h/bill+kaulitz+favorite+automatic+video+shoot2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376811829148960962" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sp5F3vyKyMI/AAAAAAAAAGE/MdkeQygXkZk/s320/bill+kaulitz+favorite+automatic+video+shoot2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... bed! This took way too freaking long. I have to get up sometime before 4pm tomorrow to get my football tickets. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-4920101598997087472?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/4920101598997087472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/oink-oink-back-to-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4920101598997087472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4920101598997087472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/09/oink-oink-back-to-school.html' title='Oink Oink... Back to School!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sp5F3vyKyMI/AAAAAAAAAGE/MdkeQygXkZk/s72-c/bill+kaulitz+favorite+automatic+video+shoot2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-323230380592316617</id><published>2009-08-06T13:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T13:25:01.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Please, sir, I want some more."</title><content type='html'>All I can say is.... wow. Wow wow wow. Why do I always like the weird/emo-looking guys??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill looks good.... yes the hair is different and the make-up is a bit crazy, but I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't jump him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SnsRAINZn-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/HM0S2bXScqs/s1600-h/take2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366902074843439074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SnsRAINZn-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/HM0S2bXScqs/s320/take2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-323230380592316617?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/323230380592316617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/08/please-sir-i-want-some-more.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/323230380592316617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/323230380592316617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/08/please-sir-i-want-some-more.html' title='&quot;Please, sir, I want some more.&quot;'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SnsRAINZn-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/HM0S2bXScqs/s72-c/take2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-5605700272526230344</id><published>2009-07-24T16:51:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T23:21:42.929-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"They're ALIEN EGGS!!"</title><content type='html'>I officially fail because I managed to go through the whole month of June and almost all of July without updating. Oops. So you know this entry will be a bit long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random note: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tokio&lt;/span&gt; Hotel's new album will be called "Humanoid" and will (finally!) be released during the first week of October!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... Since my last post, I finished my first "mini-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mester&lt;/span&gt;" of summer school. I have good grades and I'm awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have discovered how unintelligent the members of Auburn University's office staff are. I pretty much had a heart attack when I saw recently that the university sent back a loan without telling me and left me with a wonderful prize of a $5,000 outstanding bill. Just what I always wanted! Then the university canceled my fall semester schedule when that's the semester I graduate. I had to run to Auburn only to be introduced to the rudest man alive. I don't even remember his name, so he will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;referred&lt;/span&gt; to as @&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ssman&lt;/span&gt;. @&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ssman&lt;/span&gt;, did not help me out AT ALL. He only made me so angry I cried. And that in turn made me even angrier. Thanks, @&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ssman&lt;/span&gt;. I appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now I'm left to get my exact schedule back on my own with no help from the university... even though the inability to re-register into one of those classes will keep me in school until May 2010. Lovely. But good news is I know the majority of my teachers for next semester and was able to re-register into all but one class... which I'm on a waiting list for. Go figure that it's the teacher I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last free summer (unless I decide to get certified as a teacher) will officially begin with a trip to Seaside, Florida with my family on Sunday!! CAN'T WAIT! And one of my best friends is coming with us. Hopefully she'll be able to survive the chaos that is my family. At least I'll know that if my best friend can't handle my family, chances are a boyfriend/husband wouldn't be able to either. Here's hoping...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you might be wondering where my post title came from. It's from the show Ghost Adventures on the Travel Channel!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;YEEEAAAAH&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmolmJpPeyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3CYC2qAq-yU/s1600-h/a+4319c749-6629-4c1d-83e2-9880ca96807b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362139643692153634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmolmJpPeyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3CYC2qAq-yU/s320/a+4319c749-6629-4c1d-83e2-9880ca96807b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's basically the most amazing show ever on the most amazing channel ever. It follows three guys in their early 30s: Zak, Nick, and Aaron. Every other word they say is either "Dude" or "awesome". Thank God they are not like annoying surfer boys, but more like funny fraternity boys that have no clue about handling ghosts or anything remotely scary. Don't get me wrong... I love these guys. And Zak has arms I would kill to touch. I know they know what they are doing. They're not dumb. But their show is refreshing because they are candid and when something goes wrong, they don't edit it out like other shows would. They don't take themselves too seriously. Like the episode last week in Savannah, Georgia where Zak was scared poo-less by a cat in a tunnel. Or the episode a few weeks ago when Aaron was scared by a mounted buffalo head. I'm glad they keep these moments of comedy. The guys may look stupid, but I'm pretty sure I'd freak out too in those situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This next bit on Ghost Adventures is probably my favorite moment in the history of the series (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, so it's only in it's second season...).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmomFlTnf9I/AAAAAAAAAEM/TvhPwU4JaKI/s1600-h/hqdefault.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362140183693590482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmomFlTnf9I/AAAAAAAAAEM/TvhPwU4JaKI/s320/hqdefault.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The crew was visiting a southern plantation and stumbled upon an attic-like closet in a bedroom. The closet contained A LOT of hanging gourds (Lord knows why... is that how you're supposed to dry them out??). Zak saw these hanging "things" and says "What the hell are those?? Ugh! They're ALIEN EGGS!!". He then states he's scared to touch them because something might hatch out of them. "Where are we?? Doesn't it feel like some kind of damn spaceship??". "Is this some kind of voodoo??" Oh Zak &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Bagans&lt;/span&gt;, I love you. I could quote you all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ghost Adventures airs on the Travel Channel Friday nights at 9pm ET.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-5605700272526230344?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/5605700272526230344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/07/theyre-alien-eggs.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/5605700272526230344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/5605700272526230344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/07/theyre-alien-eggs.html' title='&quot;They&apos;re ALIEN EGGS!!&quot;'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmolmJpPeyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3CYC2qAq-yU/s72-c/a+4319c749-6629-4c1d-83e2-9880ca96807b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-492105598062239266</id><published>2009-05-14T03:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T04:08:48.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry, you'll have to ask through my publicist...</title><content type='html'>So... what's been happening since my last little rant. Um, I'm still uber upset about the Tokio Hotel stalking situation. Those stalker girls are even crazier than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;Tom Kaulitz of TH got black corn rows. Looks like he can't stand to look like his identical twin.&lt;br /&gt;TH has designed a shirt for H&amp;amp;M for a celebrity line that benefits AIDS awareness. Awesomeness... I'm buying it as soon as it comes out on May 28th.&lt;br /&gt;Tokio Hotel album (un)officially delayed til September. Bummer. (sorry lots of TH stuff)&lt;br /&gt;I made all As and Bs this semester. Guess I really am good at foreign languages....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on another note... I have to say that I am NOT Allison Iraheta that was on American Idol this season. Don't get me wrong, I love Allison! I wanted her and Adam to be in the Idol finale! But I had a random person in the Auburn mall tell me I look like her. Thought that lady was the only crazy one, but apparently not. Apparently, my mother's entire SCHOOL thinks I'm Allison. I went to help my sister teach one of my nephews' classes about Van Gogh and art. I went to lunch with my nephew Ryan... he and my sister stepped away from the table for a bit.. and these kids are sitting across and diagonal from me. Watching me.... creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to ease my awkward feeling, I pull out my super cool phone and begin surfing the web for any Tokio Hotel news. Then I hear in a whisper: "Look! She's typing!". So then I figure a cell phone isn't the best thing to pull out in the middle of an elementary school lunch room, and I put it away. Now I'm super awkward... then I hear more whispers: "You ask her! No you ask her! YOU ask her!". Then I hear "Excuse me...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look up to see this group of 3 six year olds looking at me super nervously. Then they say "Weren't you on American Idol??". I said no, but there is a girl who might look like me. I don't think they believed me AT ALL. They continue to gush about how Allison Iraheta is their favorite. Then when it's time to leave lunch, I get up to go walk to my mother's classroom and bother her kids, when I hear someone call out "BYE, AMERICAN IDOL!". Ugh. This rumor is getting out of control with these kids...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, in my mom's classroom, I think I'm safe. No one will say I'm Allison. The kids in mom's class know me. They've met me. They know mom's last name is NOT Iraheta. So, I'm not Allison, right? Apparently not. They all look at me like I'm an alien with 2 heads and 3 arms (expression courtesy of my French teacher). My mom then catches one of her students (the one who really knows me and is one of my nephews' best friends!) saying to the other kids: "You know Mrs. Merced's daughter? The one with red hair? She was on American Idol. I saw her." Seriously, kid? How long have you known me?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After fleeing the growing number of "fans" I have in my mother's classroom, I decided to walk to the lunch room for lunch with my nephew Avery. As I'm walking down the halls, I hear someone say "Look! There she is! Can we get her to sing a song??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should show up at the school talent show... And because of this and my celebrity due to Facebook videos, I'll be available only through appointments scheduled by my publicist. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see I don't look like her. I think, anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SgvL17wDaNI/AAAAAAAAADs/wi8keCYLkoY/s1600-h/allison+iraheta+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335582310983231698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SgvL17wDaNI/AAAAAAAAADs/wi8keCYLkoY/s320/allison+iraheta+and+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; CRAP! I don't, right?? .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-492105598062239266?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/492105598062239266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-sorry-youll-have-to-ask-through-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/492105598062239266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/492105598062239266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-sorry-youll-have-to-ask-through-my.html' title='I&apos;m sorry, you&apos;ll have to ask through my publicist...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SgvL17wDaNI/AAAAAAAAADs/wi8keCYLkoY/s72-c/allison+iraheta+and+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-6403351049821715081</id><published>2009-04-20T00:12:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T02:38:47.708-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RANTING!! Oh mein Gott... ugh...</title><content type='html'>Ok... I just need to clear my mind. And FYI... if you don't want to hear me rant about Tokio Hotel, don't read this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Wednesday, in Hamburg, Germany... apparently a "fan" was punched by Tom Kaulitz (Bill's twin bro). People automatically started turning against Tom and Tokio Hotel... without hearing the whole story. I had a feeling that he wouldn't do something like that without a really REALLY good reason... So anyway, this girl he hit is a member of this French stalker gang called The Afghans on Tour (they wear afghan wraps to hide their face or Jabbawockeez masks... LAME). These girls have been stalking TH for the past 6 months: breaking into the twins' apartment. So often that the twins have to move all the time. Egging their cars, keying their cars (brand new $150,000 cars). Blocking Bill from entering a relative's house. Sending threatening letters to the band (according to a newspaper, the letter said for Tokio Hotel to expect a "small nightmare" and that they were "very unhappy" and "growing impatient"). And... this is the one that makes my blood boil... PHYSICALLY ATTACKING A RELATIVE OF THE TWINS (rumored to be their MOTHER!)... all this allegedly happened. I guess I have to say that since I wasn't there to see them do it, but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SERIOUSLY?! WTF?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people may say that TH are celebrities. They knew they would have every move watched when they decided to become famous. Maybe that's true, but they already have no privacy in public... now they have none at home. That's enough to make anyone go crazy. Celebrities DO NOT WANT stalkers. It's unfair to say they deserve the loss of privacy just because they do what they love for a living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot believe that people who call themselves "fans" would torture their idols like that. Really? Would you like it for someone to attack your mom, to key your brand new car, to harrass your brother and friends??? I don't think so. I sure as heck would beat the crap out of someone who did all those things to me! I feel so sorry for Tom and the rest of Tokio Hotel. I would have the scheisse scared out of me if I kept seeing "Jabbawockeez in Turbans" turning up everywhere I looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sev_RGya6SI/AAAAAAAAADU/yeEJ9ArHfMc/s1600-h/mask3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326631653640694050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sev_RGya6SI/AAAAAAAAADU/yeEJ9ArHfMc/s320/mask3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't imagine the stress the band is under... having to deal with The Crazies, worrying about their mothers and families, trying to record an awesome album, working all the time, and still trying to have a private life. Forget fame, dude. Sounds like it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what German law is like, but I hope these girls will be put in prison for a LONG time. I heard the maximum sentence for stalking in Germany is 3 years. That's a little mild for what they've done to the group. Maybe they should be committed. Obviously they are a little crazy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope Tom is able to personally tell the press his side of the story. I hope this won't hurt Tokio Hotel's career. I hope more media will listen to all the facts about The Crazies and what they've done and side with Tom, like the German media has (for the most part). I hope American press will actually listen to the facts too *cough*PEREZHILTON*cough*BIGTOOL*cough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SewWTZeF-7I/AAAAAAAAADc/VwwrGhg_kUw/s1600-h/perez-hilton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326656981782887346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SewWTZeF-7I/AAAAAAAAADc/VwwrGhg_kUw/s200/perez-hilton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SewXSH-nxLI/AAAAAAAAADk/o3RWpVteZ9k/s1600-h/isupporttomkaulitz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326658059419239602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SewXSH-nxLI/AAAAAAAAADk/o3RWpVteZ9k/s320/isupporttomkaulitz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SewWTZeF-7I/AAAAAAAAADc/VwwrGhg_kUw/s1600-h/perez-hilton.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SewWTZeF-7I/AAAAAAAAADc/VwwrGhg_kUw/s1600-h/perez-hilton.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-6403351049821715081?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/6403351049821715081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/04/ranting-time.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/6403351049821715081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/6403351049821715081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/04/ranting-time.html' title='RANTING!! Oh mein Gott... ugh...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sev_RGya6SI/AAAAAAAAADU/yeEJ9ArHfMc/s72-c/mask3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-2453832633888009239</id><published>2009-04-14T20:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T20:34:40.065-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meh...</title><content type='html'>So I haven't updated in a while... again. I'm not very good at this blogging thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... since March, things have been sort of crappy. My grandfather passed away on March 30th. I was able to spend all day with him the day before he passed, so I'm really greatful for that. I'll never forget that when I went to his room to check on him, he looked at me and waved at me... just like he always does, like nothing was wrong. And I'll never forget how he held my hand so tight when I was saying goodbye to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week he passed was hard because I had 3 tests and two papers. I couldn't miss any class, so I didn't get to see my family until that Thursday when they held the viewing at the funeral home. It was hard to see Grandma so upset, but it was nice to be with everyone. The funeral was Friday April 3rd. I had a test right before the funeral... awesome. After I drove to Columbus, I got to see my childhood best friend, which was really nice! I haven't seen him in about 15 years. I also got to meet some cousins I've never met before and my great-uncle (one of Grandpa's little brothers). I have to say my great-uncle is AWESOME! He's the cutest old man ever. He reminds me so much of my grandfather. He enjoyed this little dance I did when I was playing with Christina and the dogs in the back yard. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, finals are coming soon. Not fun at all. If I can just do well on these last presentations and papers, I'll be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND I get an awesome, cool phone this weekend! My old one is broken. Christina got one too... before me when MY phone is the one that is about to break in two!!!! But I won't bring that up again... grrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Torture: Still waiting to hear the release date for the new Tokio Hotel album. I heard possibly June 30th, which would be awesome since summer classes end on the 27th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really interesting... sorry I'm boring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-2453832633888009239?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/2453832633888009239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/04/meh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/2453832633888009239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/2453832633888009239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/04/meh.html' title='Meh...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-2985449094158864492</id><published>2009-03-22T01:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T23:04:18.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a celebrity... apparently.</title><content type='html'>Spring Break was this past week... A lot of stuff happened, both good and bad. My grandfather has been in the hospital with internal bleeding. The doctors are such geniuses... they can't figure out where he's lost over 4 pints of blood from. Sooooo smart. I hope and pray Grandpa gets better!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went to my old roommate Mandi's wedding to Frank. SO MUCH FUN!!! I love that I got to see Mandi and Allison (another old roommate) after such a long time!! And of course it's fun to see Liz again! I miss living in good ol' 8203 with them. Powdered sugar fights, water balloon fights, singing and dancing around the apartment, a crazy cat, a burned kitchen floor courtesy of Mandi and an exploded boiled egg, a possessed bobble-head Santa... LOTS of memories in that apartment with them! I also caught Mandi's bouquet (WITHOUT knocking anyone down in the process)... I'm 2 for 2 with the last two weddings I've been to. A cute little kid even came up to me at the reception and said, "You caught the bouquet! That means you're going to get married next!"... Gosh, Kid. I hope you're right. And sorry, Liz... I'll let you catch it next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My niece also turned three on the 15th. I drove straight to my sister's house from Auburn for the party. Once there, I was approached by another child's mother who said "I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!! You're the one with the online videos! It's so good to meet you!!" ......... Apparently, I'm a celebrity thanks to my facebook videos. And I have fans. Later the lady was leaving and came to me and said "I'm so glad I got to meet you in person!". Awesome. I try to please my fans. I know personal fan meet and greets are important to them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN I went to have lunch with my nephews at their school. I also got to meet my mom's class of second graders. Mom made me sit in a kiddie chair at a desk. Think Billy Madison. My sister Christina was also there with me... I think we almost got in trouble for laughing during my mom's "lecture" on spelling. Oops. After meeting the kids, I was in the cafeteria for my oldest nephew's lunch. I was sitting by myself with the other kids while my sister and nephew got his lunch in the lunch line. I was getting weird stares from the other kids when it happened again... Mobbed by another fan of mine. Another lady came up and said "Can you do me a favor?". I said sure... then she said "Can you post some more of your videos online? Some of your sister??". Seriously... I need to hire a publicist. I can't even go out to lunch without being mobbed anymore. Oh well... being a celebrity isn't always easy, I've found...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks to some little kid, whether from the school, work, or my sister's house, who gave me a wonderful gift: Pink Eye. WTF?! Let's tally on another childrens illness that I've gotten at the age of 22...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-2985449094158864492?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/2985449094158864492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-celebrity-apparently.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/2985449094158864492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/2985449094158864492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-celebrity-apparently.html' title='I&apos;m a celebrity... apparently.'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-4576397761689561176</id><published>2009-03-03T22:28:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:10:55.365-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow in the South?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sa321NouyVI/AAAAAAAAADM/J1rMJtUqvbg/s1600-h/DSCN0269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309170929793681746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sa321NouyVI/AAAAAAAAADM/J1rMJtUqvbg/s320/DSCN0269.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;IT SNOWED!!! A lot of snow, actually. It snowed over 4 inches on Sunday. I had a huge learning experience when I had to leave Atlanta early Sunday morning once the snow started falling and pretty much drove through a blizzard for nearly 3 hours. I had never driven in snow before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once I got back to Auburn, I pull up to my apartment and see a giant 6 foot tall snowman. I've never seen a snowman that big! I didn't even know how to make a snowball. Obviously, I've never been around much snow. Thank goodness my roommate Megan is from Iowa... she even made snow ice cream! How nice! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And random videos for the day:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTjHO4Sh148"&gt;Translator&lt;/a&gt; ... I've finally decided to become a professional translator. I could so do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zV1zK8zRCPo&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;French Oral Exam&lt;/a&gt; ... this is how I get an A in French. :) You kind of need to know French for this video... After the teacher says she'll fail the student, the student says "Do I look bothered? Look at my face. Look at my face. Do I look bothered? No! Because I'm not bothered!" Then the teacher asks if she behaves like that at home and the student says "Are you disrespecting my family?!" Then she says random French things. Haha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry for all the language-focused videos and such... but I pretty much live and breath foreign languages at the moment. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-4576397761689561176?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/4576397761689561176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/03/snow-in-south.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4576397761689561176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4576397761689561176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/03/snow-in-south.html' title='Snow in the South?!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/Sa321NouyVI/AAAAAAAAADM/J1rMJtUqvbg/s72-c/DSCN0269.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-7491980753508217283</id><published>2009-02-26T00:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T01:26:20.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's going on inside my head.</title><content type='html'>A look into my random thoughts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Dad finally got a job. A good one too. Thank God. Seriously. I kind of feel badly for him though, because the first thing my mom, sisters and I did was divide up his next paychecks so I can get my hair done and we can go to Seaside for our family vacation. Poor Dad... but that's what happens when you have 4 high-maintenance girls in your family (Ok, maybe Christina isn't high maintenance, but I more than make up for that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having another Tokio-Hotel-induced freak out... Bill changed his hair again. And he looks weird. I thought I didn't like his little dreads, but this haircut is even worse. AND Tokio Hotel's new album has been delayed to late May or early June. Probably because Bill's gone crazy and is off screwing up his hair every other day. I know I'm obsessed. Help. I need an intervention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha... after all this freaking out about Bill's hair and saying that he's crazy for changing his hair, I'm changing my hairstyle. Maybe. I'm not sure if I should keep the whole "Ann Hathaway in Devil Wears Prada" haircut (since I've only had it for 6 months) or go for something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still teaching English once a week. I love it more than anything I've ever done before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm dying to paint something on canvas, but I don't know what. I need inspiration. Any ideas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to learn the Jai Ho dance from Slumdog Millionaire. I'm sensing a new facebook video coming soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to eat healthier lately. I'm eating lots of fruits and veggies. I have found myself eating a lot of strawberries... but then I cover them in chocolate. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was Ash Wednesday. I didn't go to church. I haven't figured out what to give up for Lent. And I accidentally ate meat today. Oops. Bad Catholic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to Ralph Lauren and J.Crew at the moment. Bad idea to get hooked on an expensive designer labels when I don't have money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been doing really well in all my classes, but I just got a 79 on the written part of my Spanish Syntax exam. I really hate syntax...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is anyone else depressed about the whole Rihanna/Chris Brown drama? I used to really like Chris Brown...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't get the song "I'm On a Boat" from SNL out of my head. And the songs from the Jonas Brothers glam-rocker skit from SNL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's an awesome website called &lt;a href="http://makemebabies.com/"&gt;makemebabies.com&lt;/a&gt; where you can combine your picture with someone elses picture (even celebrities) to see what your baby would look like. It's kept me entertained for a while... Corbin Bleu and I should NOT have kids. But I will say that Bill Kaulitz and I made pretty cute kids. I could deal with this being my daughter... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SaY1ibSYWrI/AAAAAAAAADE/kEmNnGWRBhY/s1600-h/bill+kaulitz+and+my+daughter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306988076459383474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SaY1ibSYWrI/AAAAAAAAADE/kEmNnGWRBhY/s320/bill+kaulitz+and+my+daughter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-7491980753508217283?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/7491980753508217283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-going-on-inside-my-head.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7491980753508217283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7491980753508217283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-going-on-inside-my-head.html' title='What&apos;s going on inside my head.'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SaY1ibSYWrI/AAAAAAAAADE/kEmNnGWRBhY/s72-c/bill+kaulitz+and+my+daughter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-557265313114005420</id><published>2009-02-09T23:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T23:48:14.318-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no post</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a long time... probably because nothing really interesting has happened in my life. I'm just going to school and hanging out with friends. Nothing big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get to meet the baby of one of my best friends. Her name is Charlotte and she's pretty much the most adorable thing ever. She is almost two months old and is such a happy baby. She was very content sleeping in my arms with my soft sweater. This only made my "baby fever" even more intense. Scheisse. I want one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SZEDJwJCh2I/AAAAAAAAAC8/A6nhq9S4ujs/s1600-h/DSCN0184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301021702468306786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SZEDJwJCh2I/AAAAAAAAAC8/A6nhq9S4ujs/s320/DSCN0184.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm on a total mission to find Charlotte a baby comb/brush &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;for her full head of hair (which so has a red tint to it)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also started my teaching gig for the semester. I teach English to native Spanish speakers. The woman I am teaching is named Maria. She is 21 and is married with a 3-year-old daughter. She has only been in the US for about a year and is a cook at a restaurant. She is trying so hard to be successful here but is having trouble because she has no one to help her learn the language. Talk about a hard life... I hope I can help her out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND... I got an A on both my first French test and our French recording we had to make of us speaking French. I guess I just totally rock at foreign languages! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh and I'm in desperate need for a traveling buddy. I need to travel somewhere fun this summer... I was supposed to go to Puerto Rico since my parents and I were skipping out on Europe (*tear*), but now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;my parents are skipping out on PR too. I HAVE TO TRAVEL! I'll seriously be sick if I don't. No joke. I'm a restless soul that can't stand to be in one place for a long time. 2 years is waaaaay past my breaking point. So travel with me! Liz! Andrea! Christina! Allison! Anyone! I'm up for anything!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-557265313114005420?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/557265313114005420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/02/long-time-no-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/557265313114005420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/557265313114005420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/02/long-time-no-post.html' title='Long time no post'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SZEDJwJCh2I/AAAAAAAAAC8/A6nhq9S4ujs/s72-c/DSCN0184.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-4946125483361813597</id><published>2009-01-20T18:23:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:50:57.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OBAMA!</title><content type='html'>Yesssss. Finally. Barack Obama is now officially the president of the United States. And holy crap does he have a huge job ahead of him. As for George W. Bush, I will kind of miss him. Sure, he didn't exactly make the best decisions 90% of the time, but I won't criticize since there is no way I could do any better than he did. And I'll sure miss his funny little sayings and actions (like the time he tried to open that locked door in China - HAHA).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SXZjoP2Oj6I/AAAAAAAAACs/B_UcVu6nygE/s1600-h/bush2_wideweb__470x358,0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293527955120492450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 305px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SXZjoP2Oj6I/AAAAAAAAACs/B_UcVu6nygE/s400/bush2_wideweb__470x358,0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SXZgXwmiZgI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ggIcU7l4U/s1600-h/obama+january+20th.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293524373320394242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SXZgXwmiZgI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ggIcU7l4U/s400/obama+january+20th.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. President, please fix the effing economy. I'd like my dad to have a job. Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-4946125483361813597?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/4946125483361813597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/obama.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4946125483361813597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4946125483361813597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/obama.html' title='OBAMA!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SXZjoP2Oj6I/AAAAAAAAACs/B_UcVu6nygE/s72-c/bush2_wideweb__470x358,0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-3871244547910495663</id><published>2009-01-17T02:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T03:23:10.908-05:00</updated><title type='text'>En el gimnasio con Erik Estrada...</title><content type='html'>Since I've already posted what my French lessons have been like, I figured I'd let you see some videos we watched in my Spanish Phonetics class. Pretty much I'm trying NOT to sound like this guy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngRq82c8Baw&amp;amp;feature=channel"&gt;One Semester of Spanish: Love Song&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800080;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uNuGKbwRudE"&gt;2nd Semester of Spanish: Spanish Love Song&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800080;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..... I think this guy is pretty talented. And he's making me look for an excuse to tell someone "Yo tengo sangría y un pequeño perro para tí." ("I have sangria and a little dog for you" for all you Gringos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on another note, WHY IS IT SO EFFING COLD?! Seriously, it's not supposed to be 18 degrees when I head to campus for class... and I'm in the south. What happened to Hot-lanta (I hate that nickname for ATL) and all that??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-3871244547910495663?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/3871244547910495663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/spanish-lesson.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3871244547910495663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3871244547910495663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/spanish-lesson.html' title='En el gimnasio con Erik Estrada...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-1423651769205203307</id><published>2009-01-10T00:25:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T03:36:34.139-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alien Encounter??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWg1yS3mpPI/AAAAAAAAACM/B-2nRGQ_Qk8/s1600-h/UFO!!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289536900521436402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWg1yS3mpPI/AAAAAAAAACM/B-2nRGQ_Qk8/s400/UFO!!.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;CLICK TO MAKE IT BIGGER!! (For the full effect of giant UFO) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ok, don't think I'm crazy, but I swear I saw a UFO today. No joke. I was driving home from my sister's house and I just glanced up into the sky and saw someting that was REALLY flat and long with 3 lights on it. I mean it was HUGE!! I thought it could have been a weird plane (with the air reserve base nearby), but I've never seen a plane that big. If it was something with the ARB, they should so send this thing overseas in Iraq. This would scare the SHEISSE out of our enemies and the war would be game over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I figured I should draw my own rendition of what I saw. Notice the position in which I'm being beamed up to the "ship". Two words: anal probe. (I know I wasn't actually beamed up by the UFO-that-was-probably-a-plane, but that would have been awesome).&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/5677319285020701366-1423651769205203307?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/1423651769205203307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/ok-dont-think-im-crazy-but-i-swear-i.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/1423651769205203307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/1423651769205203307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/ok-dont-think-im-crazy-but-i-swear-i.html' title='Alien Encounter??'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWg1yS3mpPI/AAAAAAAAACM/B-2nRGQ_Qk8/s72-c/UFO!!.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-4989502504502431722</id><published>2009-01-07T12:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T12:57:42.095-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parlez-Vous Français?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWToWr79D-I/AAAAAAAAACE/eemPlsyCZXg/s1600-h/joey%2520french.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288607338888761314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWToWr79D-I/AAAAAAAAACE/eemPlsyCZXg/s320/joey%2520french.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just got back to my apartment after attending my first ever French class. I have always loved French; the way it sounds, the country it comes from. But I'm a Spanish major...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for my performance in this morning's class?? Just call me Joey Tribbiani...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqwzvtjeYBQ"&gt;Je m'appelle Claude. Je te floop flee.&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-4989502504502431722?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/4989502504502431722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-just-got-back-to-my-apartment-after.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4989502504502431722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/4989502504502431722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-just-got-back-to-my-apartment-after.html' title='Parlez-Vous Français?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWToWr79D-I/AAAAAAAAACE/eemPlsyCZXg/s72-c/joey%2520french.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-3643139613653485492</id><published>2009-01-05T22:21:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T23:15:27.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What? That's not me... what are you talking about?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPpzYRHFI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ehE2bm8nyx8/s1600-h/n7002042_39856614_2883.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288017229559962706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPpzYRHFI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ehE2bm8nyx8/s320/n7002042_39856614_2883.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPNGjEEjI/AAAAAAAAABk/iCW2zi2iBSw/s1600-h/n7002042_39856615_3087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288016736489312818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPNGjEEjI/AAAAAAAAABk/iCW2zi2iBSw/s320/n7002042_39856615_3087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPIZi1LPI/AAAAAAAAABc/EqcRS9TmqAM/s1600-h/n7002042_39856616_3289.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288016655689264370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPIZi1LPI/AAAAAAAAABc/EqcRS9TmqAM/s320/n7002042_39856616_3289.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Ok. I'm getting a bit pissy because my internet isn't working right. However, it is working well enough to show me the embarrassing pictures of me from Katie's wedding... oh joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-3643139613653485492?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/3643139613653485492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/ok.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3643139613653485492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/3643139613653485492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/ok.html' title='What? That&apos;s not me... what are you talking about?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWLPpzYRHFI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ehE2bm8nyx8/s72-c/n7002042_39856614_2883.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-1931983232999285748</id><published>2009-01-04T02:21:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T13:20:11.287-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tokio Hotel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreads'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bill Kaulitz'/><title type='text'>Bill Kaulitz with dreads?? Oh no...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWBj6d1OUCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/mSInO-kjJgg/s1600-h/bill+kaulitz+vacation+december+29,+2008+dreads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287335818624389154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWBj6d1OUCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/mSInO-kjJgg/s320/bill+kaulitz+vacation+december+29,+2008+dreads.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I hate looking at paparazzi pictures of celebrities on vacation, but I couldn't help it with this one...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Bill Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel got little dreads in his hair while on vacation in Spain. I'm beginning to think he's gone crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Am I lame for freaking out so much? Oh I hate them... I miss his old hair. And he is TOO SKINNY! EAT SOMETHING! AND NO MORE TATTOOS!!&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/5677319285020701366-1931983232999285748?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/1931983232999285748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/bill-kaulitz-from-tokio-hotel-got.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/1931983232999285748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/1931983232999285748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2009/01/bill-kaulitz-from-tokio-hotel-got.html' title='Bill Kaulitz with dreads?? Oh no...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SWBj6d1OUCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/mSInO-kjJgg/s72-c/bill+kaulitz+vacation+december+29,+2008+dreads.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-7258473198752844581</id><published>2008-12-28T23:49:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T23:46:11.027-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bouquet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'>Wedding Adventures</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;On December 27, 2008 I was able to be the Maid of Honor in one of my best friend's wedding. It was in Enterprise, AL, which has this awesomely funny boll weevil statue that somehow had me mesmerized. Anyway, I was so glad that my friend is happy now, I didn't mind the long drive to the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... anyone who knows me will tell you that I am eager to get married. I always get emotional at weddings because I'm happy for the couple and at the same time lamenting my lack of a love life. Boo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when it came time to catch the bouquet, I naturally ran to the front of the croud of single girls to get my chance. Everyone knows that the person who catches the bouquet is supposed to be the one who gets married next. I knew the little girl standing next to me would not be able to stand up to me and my "wrecking ball" hips. My friend throws her bouquet, it hits the ceiling and falls to the ground. Ready, set, go... I end up on the floor with the little girl in a mad dash for the flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness I was the victorious one, because it would be rather depressing to have that little 6 year old girl get married before me. The bad part... I think I broke my toe when I dove for the flowers. Ouch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-7258473198752844581?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/7258473198752844581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2008/12/wedding-adventures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7258473198752844581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7258473198752844581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2008/12/wedding-adventures.html' title='Wedding Adventures'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-1974284133848731792</id><published>2008-12-25T04:31:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T23:15:58.852-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;For my first real post, I guess I should talk about today... Christmas!! Yay! It's only my favorite holiday of the year, so I can get pretty excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent Christmas Eve with my family, which includes my parents, my two older sisters, my grandmother, my brother-in-law, and my two nephews and niece. It's been a bit hard this year to keep my sister's kids (ages 2-8 years) believing in Santa. A few days ago, my oldest nephew Avery woke me from a nap and asked why there was a present under my parents' tree that said "To Emily. From Santa" on it and that he believes Santa is fake. Good one, Mom... Put "Santa's" presents out before Christmas for everyone to see. The best my half-asleep mind could think of was to tell him it was a nickname for one of my friends. He said "Oh, Ok. I still believe in Santa". Woah... close call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if that wasn't bad enough, I went over to my oldest sister Andria's house to help her set up the presents under the Christmas tree. It was past 11pm, so the kids were upstairs asleep. My sisters and I were in the basement with our own version of Santa's workshop. After we wrapped presents, my sister Christina and I went to sneak upstairs and put them under the tree. As I have an armful of presents and I'm crouching by the tree, I glance by the stairs... AND THERE IS MY NEPHEW RYAN LOOKING AT ME. Crap. Epic fail.&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness Christina told him we were putting mommy and daddy's presents under the tree before Santa got there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I discovered I'm not even sneaky enough to fool little children. Sad day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-1974284133848731792?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/1974284133848731792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/1974284133848731792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/1974284133848731792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5677319285020701366.post-7129286732743603468</id><published>2008-12-25T04:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T23:16:18.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000000;"&gt;So... People I know have been talking about blogging for a while, but I never saw the need to participate. My friend Liz gave it a try and honestly her funny little post about spinach smoothies made me want to start my own blog. I hope it will be a fun way to keep up with updates in the lives of people I care about, but I have no clue what I'm doing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5677319285020701366-7129286732743603468?l=emilymerced.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/feeds/7129286732743603468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7129286732743603468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5677319285020701366/posts/default/7129286732743603468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilymerced.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05810801227740480037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__NmM0B4xXH0/SmqHKZ-65QI/AAAAAAAAAFU/dkxDU5rslwY/S220/facebook+DSCN2568+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
