<?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-1862330091666090133</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:47:11.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Status: Single.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>171</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4472340683176464820</id><published>2010-04-26T13:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T13:34:47.219-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Ending</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Dearest Faithful Readers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I felt it only appropriate to share some wonderful news with you. You spent a year of your life following mine, filled with love and loss. I'm so so happy tell you that Saturday night, I got engaged!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/S9XoFM3ZRbI/AAAAAAAAANk/lySzeHfLISw/s1600/24739_530676614681_203000804_31264183_7307875_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/S9XoFM3ZRbI/AAAAAAAAANk/lySzeHfLISw/s400/24739_530676614681_203000804_31264183_7307875_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464528898934523314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;For more details, please check out my &lt;a href="http://fallinginlike.wordpress.com/2010/04/26/were-engaged/"&gt;current blog&lt;/a&gt;. I love you all and I'm so grateful I finally found my "Z."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All my love, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bailey B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4472340683176464820?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4472340683176464820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4472340683176464820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4472340683176464820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4472340683176464820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2010/04/happy-ending.html' title='Happy Ending'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/S9XoFM3ZRbI/AAAAAAAAANk/lySzeHfLISw/s72-c/24739_530676614681_203000804_31264183_7307875_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8978723723807589236</id><published>2009-10-09T13:02:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T13:03:34.667-06:00</updated><title type='text'>When one door closes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm back!! Kind of. I have a new blog...feel free to check it out if you've missed me :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fallinginlike.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://fallinginlike.wordpress.com/&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/1862330091666090133-8978723723807589236?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8978723723807589236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8978723723807589236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8978723723807589236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8978723723807589236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-one-door-closes.html' title='When one door closes...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8462430461220147892</id><published>2009-08-08T12:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T12:44:32.802-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fin.</title><content type='html'>I know that I've kept you waiting for awhile...and I am sure this will only disappoint. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been thinking a lot about where I'm going and how I'm getting there. It's been a real struggle to find some purpose in some of my vices, this blog included. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For that reason....I've decided to stop writing on this blog. Indefinitely. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess a part of me just can't continue coming back when things I'm so excited about inevitably become flushed down my relationship toilet. I've even started to write for you, instead of writing for myself. My intention for this blog was to practice my writing and in the process find myself and share my often ridiculously amusing dating experiences. I feel it has served its purpose. It needs to finish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's only fitting that I end without finding my Z. Z is my end. He is my one. Maybe I'll be searching for Z longer than I'd ever wanted to. Maybe it will take a hundred or thousand more letters to get to him...but someday I'll come to the end of this increasingly frustrating alphabet. Maybe I'll come back to this. Maybe I'll find a need for it again. I can't make promises. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope this goodbye finds you well. I hope that in some way you've found something worth while in reading my hopes, dreams, frustrations, and sorrows. I hope you miss me. I will miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love Always, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bailey  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8462430461220147892?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8462430461220147892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8462430461220147892' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8462430461220147892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8462430461220147892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/08/fin.html' title='Fin.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1528332781685406576</id><published>2009-08-04T10:22:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T13:07:53.093-06:00</updated><title type='text'>David Hasselhoff</title><content type='html'>I decided to take my cue from &lt;a href="http://howcouldyounott.blogspot.com/2009/08/time-for-another-round-of-answer-your.html"&gt;Julie&lt;/a&gt; and check out all the weirdo keywords that have been used to bring people to my sweet awesome blog. Here are my top 6 (you know I can never do just 5) fav's:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;6.&lt;/b&gt; How do I stop flirting with guys I don't like? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Really? That's a problem for you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;5.&lt;/b&gt; Do you kiss on the first date? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- This one is common. Seems like everyone in the world just doesn't know what to do!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;4.&lt;/b&gt; Professional Dater&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- That's me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.&lt;/b&gt; Fat Dater&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/professional-fat-dater.html"&gt;Yeah&lt;/a&gt;. I'm pickin up what you're puttin down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; "I have a date" Church&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Is this a religion? I want to join. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt;. www.nesquik.com&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I love &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chocolate-milk.html"&gt;chocolate milk&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(let's see how many hits the title of this blog gets! ba ha!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1528332781685406576?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1528332781685406576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1528332781685406576' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1528332781685406576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1528332781685406576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/08/david-hasselhoff.html' title='David Hasselhoff'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2136219313770472485</id><published>2009-07-30T11:32:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T11:44:36.606-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets, secrets are no fun!</title><content type='html'>So...I've kind of maybe sort of been keeping some secrets from you. But don't be mad...cause I'm going to tell you right....&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; There is a Mr. X. I can't say much about him. Really, I can't say anything. Keeping him a mystery just seems fitting doesn't it? I will say...he gives me butterflies. Smiley face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; I had a date Monday with Y. I really enjoyed his company and he was nothing but sweet. We cruised on his sweet awesome motorcycle (No, this is not &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/gooooooaaaaaaallllllllllllllll.html"&gt;motorcycle guy&lt;/a&gt; I was &lt;i&gt;supposed&lt;/i&gt; to go out with, and yes, I am a sucker for bikes). We went to a movie...and I'd actually seen this movie twice in theatres already, but it's OK...because I love it :) I would like to see him again, but my heart seems to be a little occupied. I'll be sure to let you know of any further developments.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Almost to Z people, can you believe it? I can't. I'm not sure I had any expectations to &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; get through the whole &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-late-im-late-for-very-important.html"&gt;boy alphabet&lt;/a&gt;, but I also can't say I'm surprised. A little sad? Maybe. Happy that I've had all of you around to enjoy it with me? Absolutely. Still need suggestions on how to keep track of the boys after Z...so get thinking! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2136219313770472485?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2136219313770472485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2136219313770472485' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2136219313770472485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2136219313770472485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/secrets-secrets-are-no-fun.html' title='Secrets, secrets are no fun!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6290339963550543911</id><published>2009-07-28T22:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T22:47:14.858-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still can't believe he egged my car...</title><content type='html'>Women generally have a natural tendency to care- to be caring. We want people to be happy and sometimes we will sacrifice our needs to meet those of others. In the game of dating, this quality is not only necessary, but it can also be a hindrance. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's kind of messy, but let me explain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Women want to be loved. In order to find that love, and keep that love, we often go on rampage of service and caring, hoping that in the end a reciprocated love will be our reward. To care is good...to care is honorable...to care is God-like. Being able to care that way about someone is part of being in love, part of giving love. At some point though, we need to care enough about ourselves. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We spend so much time worrying about feelings. Especially me. I think people who know me in person might think differently, but the feelings of others are a huge concern to me. With people I date, I am always walking on pins and needles because I don't want to cause unnecessary harm or heart break. At some point though I have to realize that their feelings are not my responsibility. Really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have absolutely no control over Ryan when he egged my car after I broke up with him (seriously, crazy right?!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have no control over Mike being so upset and refusing to accept my reasoning when I knew that ending our relationship was what I needed to do at that point in my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's hard! It was &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;SO SO&lt;/span&gt; hard for me to make those decisions. I spend hours and days, in some cases even months, agonizing over making the right choices. I just don't want anyone to be sad! But you know what? My happiness is all that I am in control of. I can't ever learn to love and give myself to someone if I can't find a way to be satisfied with who I am on my own. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really don't know if you feel this way. I don't know who you are or what's going on in your life, but maybe you're just like me. Just trying to find a way to get through it all and make it out with some dignity and class...and good pair of red heels :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6290339963550543911?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6290339963550543911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6290339963550543911' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6290339963550543911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6290339963550543911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/still-cant-believe-he-egged-my-car.html' title='Still can&apos;t believe he egged my car...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4515169235504599273</id><published>2009-07-25T12:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T12:16:39.044-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Love sickie</title><content type='html'>California has been fun and relaxing thus far with the exception of my being sick. It seems I'm always sick. However, I have had the luxury of being taken care of by wonderful (distant) family members. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been having somewhat of a pity party for myself and my ever present singleness lately. Most of the time, I acknowledge the pain, then move on in moments. This week has been slightly more difficult. I don't think I should spend my life wallowing in sorrows, especially when I cannot control the situation. I want to be positive, and the older I get the more I start to follow the "glass is half full" mantra. But alas...this week has been hard. I want to love and be loved. I imagine love will find me when I'm ready, but does that ease the pain of a lonely heart? Not at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will say that I am happy I've become the person I have. I think so many people loose themselves in trying to fill voids in their hearts, but not me. Although digressing in love, I've progressed in other ways, and for that, I am grateful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4515169235504599273?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4515169235504599273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4515169235504599273' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4515169235504599273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4515169235504599273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/love-sickie.html' title='Love sickie'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2153461540664138529</id><published>2009-07-23T12:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T12:18:46.362-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A crushing crush</title><content type='html'>I had a crush on a boy. It was exciting at first, but then turned not so exciting when my baby crush feelings weren't reciprocated. Or at least...I didn't feel like they were. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the most difficult parts of dating is the fact that we have to rely so heavily on the other person. Not necessarily to do things for us, I just mean in the way of feelings. The feelings must be reciprocated or a relationship can't even begin! And of course, knowing me, being out of control is something I tend to dislike. But so it is. I can't control anyone else and sometimes things just go in a different direction. Time to move on and find a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reciprocator&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;C'est&lt;/span&gt; La Vie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2153461540664138529?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2153461540664138529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2153461540664138529' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2153461540664138529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2153461540664138529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/crushing-crush.html' title='A crushing crush'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8680824193844828663</id><published>2009-07-22T08:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T08:52:49.286-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up Vacation?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;By the time 1 pm roles around, I will not be here. By here I mean work slash home slash Utah. I'm going to California! Woot!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a long overdue vacation as I have been working full time, all day, every day, all summer. I do like my job, but sometimes 8 am just comes waaaaaaaayyy to early (did you SEE how many A's I used to emphasize!?) Anyway, I plan on relaxing and chillin out hard. So hard. I also plan on writing a lot and getting some good stuff together for you and other projects.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also hope to do a little soul searching. It's time reevaluate my life, my priorities, and of course....my dating style. Look at me! I'm going to be so productive....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you'll want to miss me, but I'll be right here...blogging away all the weekend! So don't cry for me...only cry that you're still stuck at work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SmcmQVGBXTI/AAAAAAAAANY/ESX3EGNAVNg/s1600-h/1469908163_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SmcmQVGBXTI/AAAAAAAAANY/ESX3EGNAVNg/s400/1469908163_l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361295943390027058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t32" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="32" oned="t" path="m,l21600,21600e" filled="f"&gt;  &lt;v:path arrowok="t" fillok="f" connecttype="none"&gt;  &lt;o:lock ext="edit" shapetype="t"&gt; &lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t32" style="'position:absolute;" connectortype="straight"&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ignore: vglayout;position:absolute;z-index:251658240;margin-left:-3px;margin-top:8px; width:96px;height:3px"&gt;&lt;img width="96" height="3" src="file:///H:\DOCUME~1\hwhite\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.gif" shapes="_x0000_s1026" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;This is me..errr...Ross the Intern being SO excited! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8680824193844828663?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8680824193844828663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8680824193844828663' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8680824193844828663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8680824193844828663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/whats-up-vacation.html' title='What&apos;s up Vacation?!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SmcmQVGBXTI/AAAAAAAAANY/ESX3EGNAVNg/s72-c/1469908163_l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-3151044647603573176</id><published>2009-07-20T10:52:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T15:20:16.624-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance with me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;7 years of my young life were spent as a competitive ballroom dancer (before it was the cool thing to do). I realized as I was drifting into dreams last night, that a good dance partnership is directly parallel to a good romantic relationship. This is why:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Trust&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;Trust in a dancer's partnership is key. You need to know he will be there for you. He will move where you move, go where you go. He will protect you. He will keep you safe and guide you. You have trusted him to know his part, to memorize your steps, and never let go. Trust is imperative in all relationships, romantic or otherwise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Common Goal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;You work so hard to get to the same place, and you can't do it alone. You train for months for 3 minutes on the dance floor. The 3 most important minutes of your life. You both have worked for the same goal, to be at the same place at the same time. To be ready. How can your romantic relationship last if you are moving in different directions? Although your paths may be slightly different, the common goal is the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Tone&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;Tone is the give and take. When my partner pushes, I need to push back. I need to show him that I will follow where he leads and he can be confident in my ability to do so. Just like in our romantic relationships, we need to respond. We need to show interest. We need to react and show our significant other that we will lead or follow. Without tone, the partnership will surely die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Practice&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;We need to be willing to practice. Things wont come together after one lesson. Hours and hours of time, sweat, blood, and even tears is what it will take to get to number 1. To be the best, you have to practice. Sometimes I wonder if I find the "right" person, my relationship will be easier. Although, love is important, it isn't enough. We must "practice" our relationship. Take time to evaluate the way we treat each other and commit to working as hard as we can. In the end, that first place trophy will be worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Love&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;To be a dancer, a real competitive dancer, you must love what you do. Every part of your body must be ready to endure what it takes. Sometimes the only thing that will get you through will be your love for dance, for the reward it gives you in the end, to feel complete. Clearly, we need love in our relationships. Love is not all we need- but it is a foundation that will get us through the rough times that lie ahead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you're not a good relationship haver? Maybe try a ballroom class or two. What have you got to lose right? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SmSn6JXd8BI/AAAAAAAAANQ/kUTCY-dWda4/s1600-h/458341166_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SmSn6JXd8BI/AAAAAAAAANQ/kUTCY-dWda4/s400/458341166_l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360594073866334226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My last year competing. A very long time ago :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-3151044647603573176?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/3151044647603573176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=3151044647603573176' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3151044647603573176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3151044647603573176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/dance-with-me.html' title='Dance with me'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SmSn6JXd8BI/AAAAAAAAANQ/kUTCY-dWda4/s72-c/458341166_l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-162959137319959024</id><published>2009-07-18T16:13:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T16:30:32.478-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Above all things...</title><content type='html'>I wonder if sometimes people read this blog and walk away thinking how cynical I am. How I can't find a relationship that will work because I don't want it to. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in reality? I want to be in love so much it hurts. From my broken strands of hair to the tips of my toes... I want it. With the exception of my relationship with God, I would give anything to have it. Every part of me longs for the hole in my heart to be filled, for the missing piece to find its fit. When I do find it, I wont ever let it go. I will do everything I can to hold on because love is a miracle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you are grateful for the love you have in your life. I hope you know there are people who envy you. Be in love. Love purely. Love patiently. Love with kindness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Above all, don't ever let it go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"If you love me only in my dreams, let me be asleep forever."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;--Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-162959137319959024?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/162959137319959024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=162959137319959024' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/162959137319959024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/162959137319959024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/above-all-things.html' title='Above all things...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1265587682365911881</id><published>2009-07-17T08:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:36:48.341-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And in this side of the ring...</title><content type='html'>So....should we talk about how &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt; my new layout is?! I'd like to thank &lt;a href="http://www.aprilshowersblogdesign.com"&gt;April&lt;/a&gt; for bringing my vision to life and then some! I'm in love with it- let me know what you think :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my previous posts we've talked about how I'm a complete paradox for various reasons. Today, we add another to the list. I have always proclaimed to hate change. Despise it. But now I've realized that I love it. Things in my life are constantly changing by my own doing. And yet....I also love security. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Especially in relationships I hate that uncertainty phase. I wish I knew what I wanted as much as I wish I knew what my significant other did. And so...in my commitment to change, I move on because I am uncertain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interesting how the one thing I can commit to is the one thing that keeps me away from commitment in relationships! I'm still convinced that I haven't quite met the person I am meant to be with...and maybe when I do, whatever is keeping me scared of taking the leap will fade. Oh... I truly hope so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what now? How will I ever win a constant battle between security vs. change? What side am I even on?! I'm sure I'm making things much more complex than they should be, which is also something I'm very good at. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1265587682365911881?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1265587682365911881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1265587682365911881' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1265587682365911881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1265587682365911881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-in-this-side-of-ring.html' title='And in this side of the ring...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8769785155329328677</id><published>2009-07-16T07:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T07:57:00.865-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just so you know...</title><content type='html'>I miss you. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way we'd both hoped. My heart hurts. I hope you're not feeling as sad and I am; you deserve to be happy. Forgive me for the heartbreak. I won't forget you. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bailey &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8769785155329328677?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8769785155329328677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8769785155329328677' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8769785155329328677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8769785155329328677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-so-you-know.html' title='Just so you know...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7132988711275928476</id><published>2009-07-14T11:41:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T14:57:14.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not 5...but 6!</title><content type='html'>Normally, I am opposed to this, as I like to keep my blog content original. However, today an exception must be made. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to hate love songs. Hate them. But lately, I've been letting myself get a little more into that love wonderland and enjoying the feelings it invokes. Look at me! Growing up so fast! So, for your enjoyment- here are my top 6 (because I couldn't pick just 5) love songs that currently hold my heart: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stephen Speaks, &lt;i&gt;Out of my League&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gWT1u8ez8KU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gWT1u8ez8KU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owl City, &lt;i&gt;The Saltwater Room&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/usR7mMHUhlY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/usR7mMHUhlY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig David, &lt;i&gt;Unbelievable&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qog5QsmdKjw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qog5QsmdKjw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nickel Creek, &lt;i&gt;When You Come Back Down&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fail! They won't let me take this one...but go &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwkpihGwSj0"&gt;listen&lt;/a&gt;. It's worth it :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave Barnes, &lt;i&gt;On a Night Like This&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7yF65Mg349s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7yF65Mg349s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Finally....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kalai, &lt;i&gt;On My Mind&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xuR5nRdSL-c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xuR5nRdSL-c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7132988711275928476?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7132988711275928476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7132988711275928476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7132988711275928476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7132988711275928476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/not-5but-6.html' title='Not 5...but 6!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4958965627743911546</id><published>2009-07-13T09:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:25:58.388-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey...remember me?</title><content type='html'>I really don't think people are that hard to figure out. I think we obsess and wonder and have such a hard time because we keep trying to fit people into molds we have created. Especially in dating, the signs are pretty clear if you choose to see them. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For instance. Let's take W. When he left to go back to school after our weekend together, he would text often and even called. Now that it's been over a week, I don't hear from him. Ever. So, in my head, I could sit here and think about all the reasons he is "busy" or "stressed" or "just doesn't have enough hours in the day" to text me. Yeah right. We make time for the people we care about. So my guess? He probably just isn't that into me. Which is fine. I'm free to be free. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My only annoyance is that I know when he is back in town...he'll be back to me. Frustrating. Frustrating because I do like him, but it doesn't seem right to be so easily cast aside then picked up when it's convenient. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure reading this the answer is pretty clear- peace out boy scout! But really...if you were in my position what would you do? I mean &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt;...? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4958965627743911546?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4958965627743911546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4958965627743911546' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4958965627743911546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4958965627743911546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/heyremember-me.html' title='Hey...remember me?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1256270682002408599</id><published>2009-07-10T09:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T09:28:54.395-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just when I was rounding 3rd...</title><content type='html'>I think one of the most frustrating things about life is the more I learn, the more I know I need to learn. Growing up I've sometimes really thought the world revolved around me; No one gets up before 10! &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; don't...so no one else does either! What is this new song? I love it so much! It was never heard until &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; heard it! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are things in this life that are true and real regardless of whether we see them or not. I guess I had some kind of paradigm shift in realizing that. The world is there and things exist whether my eyes have been opened or I continue to keep them closed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really, I'm just feeling things I thought I knew being replaced with realities...which equals a huge change within me. Just when I think I've figured it out....back to 1st base. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1256270682002408599?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1256270682002408599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1256270682002408599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1256270682002408599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1256270682002408599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-when-i-was-rounding-3rd.html' title='Just when I was rounding 3rd...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7102699953917547592</id><published>2009-07-08T08:53:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T09:46:59.538-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I expect you to expect me to...</title><content type='html'>Today I want to direct you towards a couple blogs that I fell in love with. First, my blog friend Heidi for posting &lt;a href="http://simplyheidisthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-really-am-hopeless-romantic-sigh.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. I love that she believes in finding the kind of love that miracles are made of. And second, Katrina for posting &lt;a href="http://www.katrinakrull.com/2009/07/love-letters.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. This is when love used to mean something! I've read it over and over and it gives me hope :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot about the kind of expectations we should have of others. Some say that having any expectations will always lead to disappointment. But for me...there are some things I just can't sacrifice when it comes to my romantic relationships. I mean, I definitely expect my significant other not to murder me...which I really hope I will never be disappointed by. Some things though, mean just as much to me as not hooking up with a serial killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SlS3cJTXTWI/AAAAAAAAANI/mx296w2qVwE/s1600-h/expectations.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356107551011720546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SlS3cJTXTWI/AAAAAAAAANI/mx296w2qVwE/s400/expectations.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it ever OK to expect things of others? Will we &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; be dissapointed when they aren't? Will the expectations we have of others &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; be met at all? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope that I am able to find someone that I can expect certain things from, and he from me. As long as he doesn't require me to &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-not-kidding.html"&gt;camp&lt;/a&gt;....often :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7102699953917547592?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7102699953917547592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7102699953917547592' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7102699953917547592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7102699953917547592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-expect-you-to-expect-me-to.html' title='I expect you to expect me to...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SlS3cJTXTWI/AAAAAAAAANI/mx296w2qVwE/s72-c/expectations.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5742221346361206670</id><published>2009-07-07T08:31:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T08:42:06.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mediocre Morning</title><content type='html'>A new day, and a new morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so interesting to me how differently I feel in the morning, especially when I've gone through something difficult. Last night I told &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/sweet-or-scary.html"&gt;V&lt;/a&gt; that in order to preserve any heartbreak, I felt it was time to go our separate ways. V is the most completely genuine person I know. He is absolutely the most true person to who he is right now. I just know that his person and my person would not have worked. Too many different ideas on some extremely important issues. It makes my heart hurt to know that I've caused him any sadness. I don't know how healthy it is, but I've always been incredibly sensitive to that and hate when I'm the cause of any negative energy. I hope only the best for him in his life. I wish him nothing but love and hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I still posses an air of sadness today, I know it was the right thing to do. I know that I am only responsible for my happiness and I need to follow my natural instincts. I avoid getting into relationships for this reason- but I will say I have no regrets. I can only play the cards I'm dealt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5742221346361206670?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5742221346361206670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5742221346361206670' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5742221346361206670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5742221346361206670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/mediocre-morning.html' title='Mediocre Morning'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6864172860972770464</id><published>2009-07-06T09:57:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T10:52:20.546-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gooooooaaaaaaallllllllllllllll!</title><content type='html'>I've had so much on my mind lately and have a laundry list of things I'd love to blog about. However, in the interest of keeping your attention I'll do my best to keep this short and sweet :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V and I spent a lot of time together last week. It's been interesting getting to know him. Along with some other experiences this weekend, this has made me think about who people really are. Of course there are things people do and say that are a part of the person they've become. People have lists of accomplishments that we use to label them. But I think ultimately, we need to take the time to really get to the core of who someone is. I can go to Church every day of the week but that doesn't mean my actions are Christ-like, make sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this weekend....I was supposed to go out with motorcycle guy right? WELL, turns out a person I've been wanting to spend some time with came into town and asked me out for Friday, to which I accepted. We will call him W :) So I had to cancel with motorcycle guy but I can't feel guilty- it was for a greater cause :) W took me to a Real Salt Lake soccer game on Friday night. This makes the second game of the season for me...because I love soccer so much. Orrr....not. We had a good time though (despite my ride being 2 hours late *angry glare*). This led to us spending the weekend together and getting to know each other. It was calm and cool, which I was very happy about. Maybe it was the fact that he was going back to Idaho (goes to school there) which kept my anxiety to a minimum, or maybe we just clicked. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, still not ready for commitment. Have I ever been? I'm just trying to build relationships and find out what I'm supposed to learn from them. I'm really working on getting to the point where I can completely control my thoughts and emotions. I highly doubt I'll ever accomplish that completely- but I find great benefit in trying to change the parts of me I feel are less than desirable. Life's a big test and I'm just trying to get an A.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6864172860972770464?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6864172860972770464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6864172860972770464' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6864172860972770464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6864172860972770464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/gooooooaaaaaaallllllllllllllll.html' title='Gooooooaaaaaaallllllllllllllll!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1591900163324900760</id><published>2009-07-01T11:37:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T11:55:10.561-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Pleasures</title><content type='html'>As I've stated in previous posts, my anxiety is often triggered by relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm completely terrified of a broken heart as well as doing the breaking if needs be. I need it to feel "right," which is a challenge being that some things take time but I am usually too anxious to be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if this has more to do with me, and less to do with the men I date. In fact, I'm almost positive it does. Maybe I'm the one that isn't ready for a long term commitment. Just a thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkuiFF3iy5I/AAAAAAAAANA/cYaHAdsqs-U/s1600-h/weddingRing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353550790418156434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkuiFF3iy5I/AAAAAAAAANA/cYaHAdsqs-U/s400/weddingRing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ummm this is hideous. Who are Kathleen and William? What would possess them to do this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say that I happy with the way things are progressing with V. With every conversation we have the fire of my anxieties seems to dim a little. This is good. We have a date next Friday (motorcycle guy took this Friday) but I imagine we will see each other more than once between now and then. With V, I feel like I want to be better but at the same time he appreciates the person I am right now. Truly. I like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1591900163324900760?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1591900163324900760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1591900163324900760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1591900163324900760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1591900163324900760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/07/simple-pleasures.html' title='Simple Pleasures'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkuiFF3iy5I/AAAAAAAAANA/cYaHAdsqs-U/s72-c/weddingRing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4063172569593163394</id><published>2009-06-30T08:17:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T08:52:05.182-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Victorious</title><content type='html'>So you're wondering how my date with &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/sweet-or-scary.html"&gt;V&lt;/a&gt; went last night?! Good. Because I'm going to tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having had so much practice with first dates, I normally don't get nervous. I tend to only get nervous about things if I'm not good at them, but first dates? I'm good at those. I'm a &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/professional-fat-dater.html"&gt;PD&lt;/a&gt; remember? So anyways...I have to admit...I was a little nervous. It kind of reminds me when I was taking a public speaking class and the Professor said the second you stop being nervous, you should stop public speaking because you've lost your spark. Well...looks like I can continue dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO...we met up at a restaurant (public place Heather :) at 7. I got to pick, so I figured if anything at least I'd like the food. I won't go into complete detail, so here are a few highlights of the evening:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Stimulating conversation. Just sometimes I'd rather talk less about selling security systems and more about &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;else. I was interested, intrigued, and not annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. He brought me chocolates. &lt;em&gt;Awwww&lt;/em&gt; (I can hear you) I know right?! We had had a conversation earlier about my favorite chocolates and he was thoughtful enough to have our waiter surprise me with them. I offered to share, but he declined, which I was secretly grateful for because I want to eat them all. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. We didn't leave the restaurant until 10. You heard me. That's 3 hours, which barely even felt like 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. We ended up taking a drive up the canyon and continued this previously stated stimulating conversation. Finally made it home at 12. I'm exhausted. It was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go. Start of something good? Maybe. Excellent first date? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On a side note, I have a little surprise that should be ready by the end of the week (I hope!) So stay tuned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4063172569593163394?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4063172569593163394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4063172569593163394' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4063172569593163394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4063172569593163394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/victorious.html' title='Victorious'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2979134784851816976</id><published>2009-06-29T09:53:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T10:32:09.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still 116....</title><content type='html'>My anxieties are through the roof today. It's an extremely frustrating feeling and not one I can do much about. It doesn't help that I lost this much weight-&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;0&lt;/span&gt;-after dieting all last week and working out 4 days with an hour of cardio each day. So what to do? I mean...If my body refuses to change why should I stuff lettuce down my throat instead of Corn dogs=best food ever made?! The laws of the universe are failing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also...guess who got a speeding ticket last week? Yep. The thing is...I totally deserved it. I was speeding. But for some reason I still am trying to find a way to justify being angry about it. It's probably because I'm an American and feel some sense of entitlement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dating front...hmmm...not much to report. I've got the &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/blah-blah-blah-im-so-cool.html"&gt;gym guy date &lt;/a&gt;tonight (can anyone even remember what letter I'm on?! V...I think), and then was asked out by a motorcycle riding guy for Friday. Look at me! Getting myself back into the game....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, more dating equals another dilemma. What to do after I've gone through all the &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/blah-blah-blah-im-so-cool.html"&gt;letters of the Alphabet&lt;/a&gt;?! Currently taking suggestions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2979134784851816976?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2979134784851816976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2979134784851816976' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2979134784851816976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2979134784851816976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/still-116.html' title='Still 116....'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1703145089370937898</id><published>2009-06-27T21:43:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:59:54.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Classic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I would consider myself a classic chick.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't mind the standard dinner and a movie date. The dinner part is obvious as you can converse and start to peal the layers of crazy one by one. The movie on the other hand can serve 2 very important purposes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. In case the conversation is lacking and you're on a date with someone who may or may not resemble George Costanza, (I didn't know! He&lt;i&gt; seemed&lt;/i&gt; nice!) then you have a get out of jail free card. You can't talk during the movie. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SHHH&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkbpPNd3RRI/AAAAAAAAAM4/8LT3hrL5S2I/s1600-h/costanzanaked.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 219px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkbpPNd3RRI/AAAAAAAAAM4/8LT3hrL5S2I/s400/costanzanaked.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352221654698640658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. If it is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rockin&lt;/span&gt; date and he looks more like Mario Lopez, then you get to sit next to him and possibly get a hand brush or 2 *blush*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkbpO_MsF-I/AAAAAAAAAMw/SgEBdIj8Uuw/s1600-h/MarioLopezA02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkbpO_MsF-I/AAAAAAAAAMw/SgEBdIj8Uuw/s400/MarioLopezA02.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352221650868508642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also believe in the more traditional roles between man and wife. Although, I do fall into the second wave feminist category. This means that I'm stoked on shaving my legs, showering, and manicures, but I also believe in gender equality and the opportunity to do with my life whatever I see fit. I'm just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sayin&lt;/span&gt;, I want to have the best of both worlds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...future husband...just know, I'm a classic chick...with a modern twist. &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/1862330091666090133-1703145089370937898?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1703145089370937898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1703145089370937898' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1703145089370937898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1703145089370937898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-classic.html' title='The New Classic'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkbpPNd3RRI/AAAAAAAAAM4/8LT3hrL5S2I/s72-c/costanzanaked.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4888047495787253147</id><published>2009-06-26T09:17:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:29:38.125-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seven.</title><content type='html'>Lately I just haven't really been inspired to write much of anything with substance. At the risk of boring you, I'll keep this short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My days this summer have seemed to melt together as each today is almost identical to the previous. It goes as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Alarm goes off at 7. I push the snooze button exactly 5 times, and eventually get out of bed at 7:25.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I've showered the night before. I take care of my hair and makeup as quickly as possible because I know I will be late to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I get to work around 8:10 (On time? No. Close enough? Yes). I work until 4:30, then head home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I don't really know what happens from 4:30 to 7, but I'm sure I do something incredibly unproductive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Around 7 I head to the gym where I try to picture myself thin in hopes finding some motivation to keep running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I go home and mess around on my Laptop, which has usually been overtaken by my family, then jump in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I jump into bed and wonder how I ever left it in the first place. I flip through channels hoping to find any of my favorite shows and usually wait until I can barely move my arm to turn off the TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go, my life. 7 steps encompasses my entire life. Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I've set the date for the &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/sweet-or-scary.html"&gt;date&lt;/a&gt;. Monday. Sorry, objectors, the Yes voters outnumbered you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful date filled weekend my lovelies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4888047495787253147?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4888047495787253147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4888047495787253147' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4888047495787253147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4888047495787253147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/seven.html' title='Seven.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6229862641213593387</id><published>2009-06-24T11:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T11:55:26.562-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet or Scary?</title><content type='html'>Monday night I was completely focused on finishing my workout strong. I was cycling like my life depended on it and watching Jon and Kate Plus 8 (getting divorced?! Broke my heart!)&lt;br /&gt;And then, I was interrupted. This guy walks up to me and sets this on the front of my calorie counter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkJnJEVi75I/AAAAAAAAAMo/eMgdbNXEAMU/s1600-h/IMG_8367%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350952712750165906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkJnJEVi75I/AAAAAAAAAMo/eMgdbNXEAMU/s400/IMG_8367%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; * "You're Stunning- Let's go out- Call me. Charles." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So... I'm leaving it up to you. Should I go out with him? Vote here ------------------------&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Personal information ommited as to protect the individual's identity.&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/1862330091666090133-6229862641213593387?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6229862641213593387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6229862641213593387' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6229862641213593387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6229862641213593387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/sweet-or-scary.html' title='Sweet or Scary?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SkJnJEVi75I/AAAAAAAAAMo/eMgdbNXEAMU/s72-c/IMG_8367%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4617297997230994279</id><published>2009-06-23T10:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T11:01:54.399-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Party Time</title><content type='html'>I had sort of a pity party for myself last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am turning off comments for this post because I want to be clear: this is not about me finding validation through any of you. I know you're all so wonderful and would come to my rescue with comments about how gorgeous I am, but that isn't what I want. I just figure I can't be the only one feeling this way, so maybe in some way some of you can relate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comparing myself to others always sets me up for failure. And yet, I can't seem to stop myself from doing it sometimes. My sister came into town this week. My sister looks like perfection. She could be on any magazine cover and you would think she is just another super model. Growing up with that was really hard. My guy friends and even some boyfriends would see her and wonder how they ended up with the wrong sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night at the gym I would watch eyes follow certain woman as they would walk from machine to machine. I don't necessarily want that attention, I guess just sometimes it would be nice to feel like eyes were following me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, comparing ourselves to others is ridiculous. Not only will we never come out on top, being that there will always be someone who is better at whatever attribute we feel inadequate, but different people have different ideas of beauty. Ultimately, I just hope whomever I end up with is glad he ended up with the wrong sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4617297997230994279?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4617297997230994279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4617297997230994279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4617297997230994279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4617297997230994279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/party-time.html' title='Party Time'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4618228660536265687</id><published>2009-06-21T20:09:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T20:26:21.317-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've got time on my hands</title><content type='html'>One of the biggest mistakes people can make with regards to romantic relationships is rushing into them. I've been guilty of this. I would meet someone and we would run full speed spending every day together and it would just turn into this serious thing before I could even say "I'm afraid of commitment." &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think at the beginning we create the person we think we are with. We don't have the reality of who they are, as we haven't spent much time with them, so we fill in the blanks with whatever wonderful, incredible, beautiful qualities we decide they have. In my case, I spent years not being able to &lt;i&gt;completely&lt;/i&gt; let go of someone because I loved him. I didn't think I'd find that love again with someone so amazing. Then one day, it hit me. I created who he was. He wasn't this patient, loving, kind and sensitive person I had decided he was. Maybe he possessed those qualities, but not near in the percentage I was determined to believe he had. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My solution is just giving it time. There are so many unknowns and there is no rush to dive into a situation that could potentially be more trouble than it's worth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note: I've been so happy lately! What a great feeling! Loving life has rocked my world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The End. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4618228660536265687?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4618228660536265687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4618228660536265687' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4618228660536265687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4618228660536265687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-got-time-on-my-hands.html' title='I&apos;ve got time on my hands'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8423570896030584461</id><published>2009-06-19T08:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T09:47:29.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So Live your Life</title><content type='html'>Growing up and dealing with a few heart breaks I wondered what it meant to be emotionally healthy and "mature" through it all. It seemed like my world would crumble when my relationships would end and I would be sent through a twister of pain and such deep sadness that I wasn't sure I would ever feel the same. Even when I was the one that initiated the breaking up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past couple years I think I've learned how to accept the pain of not having a significant other and acknowledging that it's there. I think this is important. This is a part of my life and I can't change it and it hurts. But that's where it needs to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't live our lives dwelling on what could be or should be. My life is meant to be lived and when I wrap myself into a blanket of memories and wonder what I could have done differently, I'm only stifling my progression to happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living in fear (or the past) does nothing but suffocate the potential for beautiful life experiences. It is OK to be sad. It is OK to take time to mourn the loss of someone that can no longer be a part of your life. It happened. But eventually, we need to get back up. Pick up what is left and start being the people we were meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There just isn't enough time to sacrifice our potential for feeling alive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8423570896030584461?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8423570896030584461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8423570896030584461' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8423570896030584461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8423570896030584461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-live-your-life.html' title='So Live your Life'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7318729759461199459</id><published>2009-06-17T12:45:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:38:56.187-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate Milk</title><content type='html'>I love chocolate milk. I do. I think it's one of those vices that just makes life a little sweeter for me. But by chocolate milk...I don't mean just any kind. It &lt;em&gt;needs&lt;/em&gt; to be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nesquik.com/"&gt;Nesquik&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. It is very important to me. Generic just doesn't cut it and in fact it makes me angry to drink it- the opposite of the sensation I am looking for in the first place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjlEtODuSuI/AAAAAAAAAMg/hdhtqiRFgkU/s1600-h/chocolatemilk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348381576137689826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjlEtODuSuI/AAAAAAAAAMg/hdhtqiRFgkU/s320/chocolatemilk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what about the generic version of "love"? Not necessarily love in it's purest form, but the side effects- things like holding hands, snuggling (remember I hate the word &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-better-be-texting-your-mom.html"&gt;cuddle&lt;/a&gt;), and even kissing. Sometimes it just feels good enough to drink the generic version of love with someone you aren't emotionally involved with and revel in it's side effects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't choose when I get to fall in real love. &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/movie-love.html"&gt;Movie love &lt;/a&gt;will come and go, but real love...that's the &lt;strong&gt;Nesquik&lt;/strong&gt;. It will be an incredible day when I can feel the love I've always wanted and hoped for, but in the mean time, sometimes I'll just have to deal with the generic...and sometimes even that can taste &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7318729759461199459?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7318729759461199459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7318729759461199459' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7318729759461199459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7318729759461199459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chocolate-milk.html' title='Chocolate Milk'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjlEtODuSuI/AAAAAAAAAMg/hdhtqiRFgkU/s72-c/chocolatemilk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1759774997879836834</id><published>2009-06-15T16:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T16:44:23.985-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Right....now?</title><content type='html'>You know, the past couple days I've been on this kick with just "meeting Mr. Right now...no need for Mr. Right!" I thought maybe if I just didn't take things so seriously eventually I'd meet a Mr. Right now and slowly and naturally the now would fade away. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But today I felt so sick. And when I'm sick, I just sometimes wish someone was there to take care of me. A Mr. Right would have been great today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1759774997879836834?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1759774997879836834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1759774997879836834' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1759774997879836834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1759774997879836834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/mr-rightnow.html' title='Mr. Right....now?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7089854749549372303</id><published>2009-06-13T11:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T12:11:47.539-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My turn!</title><content type='html'>I have a movie lust crush. It's true. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is how it happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My super sweet friend &lt;a href="http://defineheather.blogspot.com/"&gt;Heather&lt;/a&gt; and I decided to hit up the Kelly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Clarkson&lt;/span&gt; concert Thursday night. It was amazing. She is lovely. While we were waiting for Kelly, there were 5 bands/People that played 1 song each as part of a Utah's got talent type thing. The band that won is called &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Imagine-Dragons/39643821406?sid=ed993ea8e203b3d73688915ad6b3256f&amp;amp;ref=search"&gt;Imagine Dragons&lt;/a&gt;. While the final prep steps for Kelly were happening, a super cute boy came up to Heather and I and gave us a flier about Imagine Dragons performing at a local club the next night. I didn't have plans...he was cute...I was so there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So last night...I decided to do it. I was going to find him and I was going to talk to him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was nervous. When I was younger this was no big deal. I would go up to guys all the time and even ask them out. Then, after a few failed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;relationships&lt;/span&gt; I decided to just let them come to me. If they were interested, they could do the work, and if they weren't it saved me a lot of heart ache. BUT, he was too cute for me not to do anything about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So first, I made friends with the merchandise people, who also happened to manage the band. I told them about said cute boy, and they jumped at chance to help me find him. After a couple hours, and leaving Velour (club) to go to Sammy's (different club) and coming back, I gathered the courage. He was right next to me. I wanted to say Hi but one of the opening bands would not end their song! It felt like forever! But it ended...deep breaths...and I did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turns out he is even more cute after talking to him. Sometimes it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; doesn't work out that way! Imagine Dragons even helped me out by playing a slow song and suggesting we slow dance. Perfect. Then, the end of the night came. Goodbye cute boy. Oh but wait...he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;asked&lt;/span&gt; for my number!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This could be the start of something good...or just a movie lust crush. Either way...it's fun to feel butterflies :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7089854749549372303?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7089854749549372303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7089854749549372303' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7089854749549372303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7089854749549372303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-turn.html' title='My turn!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-405966618245183452</id><published>2009-06-12T09:17:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T09:39:32.297-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Love</title><content type='html'>Remember when you were younger and you'd see in movies how the boy and girl would accidentally bump into each other in their high school hallway, books spilling everywhere, and as they bend to pick up the mess of homework assignments their hands touch and BAM! they're in love? Remember how you wished that could happen to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK...maybe it was just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I wanted it. Growing up I've always said that I never believed in love. That I knew life was not a fairy tale and that relationships were rough and full of rocky roads. But deep down inside....I still hoped. I hoped for movie love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I think about movie love however, the more I understand that it truly is an illusion. Just like the movie in which the love story develops, movie love will end. Those fireworks will stop exploding, the butterflies will disappear, the kisses will have less spark, and your significant others eyes will lose that sparkle you once saw so bright.&lt;br /&gt;So now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*True love. True love is what I want. The kind of love where you choose to be there. You choose to sacrifice who you are and what you want because you want so much for the other person to be happy. The kind where you can cry and laugh together and no matter what, you know they're in it for the long haul, because you are too. The kind that can bring more happiness and joy that movie love could ever bring. I want that love. And I believe in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjJ1WRJYdII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/aQ6DaohTBEA/s1600-h/003_KoonsHangingHeart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346464733062526082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjJ1WRJYdII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/aQ6DaohTBEA/s320/003_KoonsHangingHeart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Jeff Koons 'Hanging Heart'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Based on thoughts from "&lt;em&gt;The Five Love Languages&lt;/em&gt;" by Gary Chapman. Amazing. Read it. Now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-405966618245183452?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/405966618245183452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=405966618245183452' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/405966618245183452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/405966618245183452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/movie-love.html' title='Movie Love'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjJ1WRJYdII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/aQ6DaohTBEA/s72-c/003_KoonsHangingHeart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7490158430975555325</id><published>2009-06-11T09:21:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T12:46:54.118-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Verdict</title><content type='html'>Well, I planned to go with sexy blond as most of you voted was my best look (and I agree) but things went a little differently at the salon. Basically, my hair just wouldn't get to the ideal color without being damaged to a point where it would start to break off. So, being that I would rather have darker hair than no hair, this is the outcome:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjEiO4la6eI/AAAAAAAAAMI/JbLRq8N0nqM/s1600-h/4567_541821777991_34005415_32097854_4086127_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346091871768340962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjEiO4la6eI/AAAAAAAAAMI/JbLRq8N0nqM/s320/4567_541821777991_34005415_32097854_4086127_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't hate it. It's healthy. It's shiny. And after my next appointment...it will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt;. So there you go. The picture isn't completely in focus and makes me look like I glow in the dark, but at least you get the basic hair color idea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On to more important things. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was cycling at the gym the other night, I started to listen in a conversation between dark haired guy and no haired guy. From what I gathered, dark hair guy is engaged and just wanted to hear from no haired guy that he was doing the right thing. Basically, dark hair guy ultimately felt like he didn't have the passion about his Lindsey (fiance) as he had about past girlfriends, but it's too late now and he's at the point where he should get married, so why not right? No haired guy thinks he is making a big mistake and should marry someone that he loves just as much as she loves him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ummmm&lt;/span&gt;, excuse me...but I don't really want to marry someone that has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;luke&lt;/span&gt; warm feelings about me. I want him to be excited and be passionate about me and just feel ready and happy. Maybe she'll never know the difference and they'll end up in love and happy. Who knows. I just hope that conversation doesn't go the same way for my future fiance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7490158430975555325?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7490158430975555325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7490158430975555325' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7490158430975555325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7490158430975555325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/verdict.html' title='Verdict'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SjEiO4la6eI/AAAAAAAAAMI/JbLRq8N0nqM/s72-c/4567_541821777991_34005415_32097854_4086127_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-3856299576704870875</id><published>2009-06-09T08:58:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T09:16:19.756-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Golden Rule...s.</title><content type='html'>Lately, as I venture to the gym every day, I get to study the interactions of the human species in regards to the male and female dynamic. I did notice something that I think most women have a problem with; presenting yourself outwardly to the kind of people you want to attract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a beach blond-orange skinned-dark eye make- up girl next to me on Saturday and guess who comes sauntering up to her within the first 10 min she was on the machine? That's right, the quintessential meat head- fried brain cells- fauxhawk -gym guy. They were perfect for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that's not the kind of person you're looking for, then its important to be careful and take the time to dress in a manner so the people you do desire will be attracted to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First dates especially are key because you can only make a first impression once. Here are a few rules that I find helpful:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Shower! OK, so it seems obvious, but sometimes we are in a hurry and think, "My hair isn't THAT greasy." Yes it is. Wash it. Smells are very important in attracting potential mates, so at least be clean!&lt;br /&gt;2. Heels. Wearing heels may not always be your cup of tea, but it shows the guy that you care and wanted to look special. Plus, your calves look amazing. It's true.&lt;br /&gt;3. Be comfortable. Like me, I'm sure you stress about that first date outfit. But the most important thing is to pick something you feel comfortable and confident it. There is no sense in wearing that tight revealing shirt when you'll just be adjusting all night and being worried about where things are. Find something YOU feel good in!&lt;br /&gt;4. Don't over accessorize. Too much bling can detract from your face and let's be honest, most guys have a short attention span anyway so don't wear too many shiny things that will distract him. Plus, you could come off as high maintenance.&lt;br /&gt;5. Take emergency supplies. Even if you don't end up needing hairspray, a brush, eyeliner, or lipstick...bring it anyway. This way, in case something happens you have your first aid kit AND you don't have to be worried about being unprepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are a few rules I follow. Hopefully they help! Most importantly, just be you :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-3856299576704870875?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/3856299576704870875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=3856299576704870875' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3856299576704870875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3856299576704870875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/golden-rules.html' title='The Golden Rule...s.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6259002340027282692</id><published>2009-06-08T08:26:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T08:52:17.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Put me in Coach!</title><content type='html'>June 6th came, and June 6th went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you know, I've been sidelined from the dating game due to a wounded heart. Saturday I put myself back in for awhile and I must say the expectations I did not have were exceeded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My awesome friend &lt;a href="http://foxypinkcheetah.blogspot.com/"&gt;Erin&lt;/a&gt; decided to set me up with U. First, it is important to note that he actually called me. As in, he picked up the phone, dialed, and used his voice to ask me out! This has become somewhat of an anomaly these days with emails and texting, which in my opinion is ridiculous. A+ on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picked me up at 5:30 (on time) and we headed to dinner. He gave me the option to choose which I appreciated but we ended up at the first Italian restaurant we saw. It was lovely. Next we were off to the Real Salt Lake soccer game. I had never been to a professional soccer name. People go nuts there. And excuse me...did someone say David Archuletta?! He had a free concert after the game! I think U was more excited about that than I was. It was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the game we met up with Erin and her fiance for ice cream. It was so good to see her and catch up...and she looked as gorgeous as ever. It's so funny how with some people no matter how long its been you can pick up right where you left off. Loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we took the long drive back home. The most interesting thing about this date is that I walked away knowing almost as much as I knew about him when he came. Close to nothing. But...we were talking the entire time. I can't quite figure out what it was that we talked about...but I do remember it was fun. We definitely bonded over our love of 80's pop music which I'm not sure there is a stronger bond to be made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my final assessment: I had a great time. I appreciated very much the efforts he made for me and I hope that I made his time worth while. Sometimes I think we (women) don't give enough credit to the guys for taking us out. So to U, and any guys who feel unappreciated, I offer my sincere thanks. U was kind, sweet, and made me laugh. I would definitely do it again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6259002340027282692?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6259002340027282692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6259002340027282692' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6259002340027282692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6259002340027282692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/put-me-in-coach.html' title='Put me in Coach!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4172945674904970617</id><published>2009-06-05T09:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T09:36:24.546-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll read you</title><content type='html'>Last night I had dinner with my good friend P, Joanne, and Chris. J&amp;amp;C presented me with my very own "real" first ever book. It's a hardback that contains my first 100 posts of this blog. It truly is incredible. Holding it in my hands gives me a sense of accomplishment. I did this. I wrote these words. It's a high that I need to find again...good thing I'm starting my first book soon :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love blogging. It really is just a fancy word for keeping a journal. As I was looking through the pages, I could just see the changes I've made so clearly. I am different...I am better. Seeing where I've been as opposed to having only a flicker of memories makes me appreciate so much more the design and shape my life has taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing has such a tangibility that everyone should experience in their life. Although you may not think so, people want to read your story. Your life is interesting because it doesn't belong to anyone else. I want to read who you are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4172945674904970617?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4172945674904970617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4172945674904970617' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4172945674904970617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4172945674904970617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/ill-read-you.html' title='I&apos;ll read you'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5250902559653313191</id><published>2009-06-04T09:03:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T09:15:15.258-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear everyone I've ever known....</title><content type='html'>Relationships in any capacity are fascinating to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how different my life would be had I not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;encountered&lt;/span&gt; every single person I've ever met. I'm sure for some of them, like the person who bagged my groceries, or the cashier at the gas station, my life would have turned out just the same had I not crossed their path. But when I think about my 6t&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;h&lt;/span&gt; grade teacher who pushed me to work harder, or my dance coaches who were there for me every competition, or my best girl friend I met in college, who would I have been without them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in my romantic life there are people I needed to experience. I needed to meet horrible verbally (and probably physically had I stuck around long enough) abuse guy so I would know that not only was I strong enough to leave, but that I would never allow myself to be treated that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately I'm grateful for all of them. Of course I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;insecurities&lt;/span&gt;, but generally I think I can be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;proud&lt;/span&gt; of the person I am. Thanks world! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5250902559653313191?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5250902559653313191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5250902559653313191' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5250902559653313191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5250902559653313191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/dear-everyone-ive-ever-known.html' title='Dear everyone I&apos;ve ever known....'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-492272902222771749</id><published>2009-06-03T15:16:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T15:29:46.274-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Baby</title><content type='html'>I didn't feel well this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night my friend &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/go-away-muffin-top.html"&gt;P &lt;/a&gt;(it's been forever since I've mentioned him, but we've become great friends!) and I went out to dinner. I'm pretty sure I ate my weight in greasy fast food. So when I got home I ate Tums like candy and went to bed. My poor body had a night of tossing and turning. This morning I called in and told work I'd be there later than normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now they are all convinced I'm prego with morning sickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I am not... I think I should still throw a No-Baby Baby shower. And everyone can bring presents. I could really use some new pumps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SibqZnAhPeI/AAAAAAAAAMA/NoLAdryJi2A/s1600-h/Crazy_Baby_Pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343215733610462690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SibqZnAhPeI/AAAAAAAAAMA/NoLAdryJi2A/s320/Crazy_Baby_Pic.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/1862330091666090133-492272902222771749?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/492272902222771749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=492272902222771749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/492272902222771749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/492272902222771749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/food-baby.html' title='Food Baby'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SibqZnAhPeI/AAAAAAAAAMA/NoLAdryJi2A/s72-c/Crazy_Baby_Pic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2065473945823551923</id><published>2009-06-02T11:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T11:53:21.173-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Different strokes for different folks</title><content type='html'>Growing up my parents taught us not to focus on material aspects. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Experiences are more important things," my Mom used to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with this sentiment. But that doesn't mean money isn't important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be completely honest and tell you that when I'm dating someone, their future plan with regards to finances is something I care about. I don't need a big fancy car or a massive house on the hill. I don't need to buy designer clothes or fine jewelry. I do very much &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; a few things though....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I want to be able to give my future children the opportunity to find their passion. I love dancing so much. More than I could ever express. But there was always a part of me that knew it was really expensive and I felt like a burden to my parents on many occasions because of it. I would be lying if I said my decision to stop competing had nothing to do with the monetary aspect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I want to be able to take my family on vacations. Although my parents didn't have a lot, somehow my Mom made it a point to travel with us. Those are some of my most sacred memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I want to help people. I would love to start a non-profit foundation that raises money for women suffering from depression and anxiety. It would put funds toward drug research and therapy for those who can not afford it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in traditional values. I want a husband who will provide for my family. Of course I plan on having finishing my education and furthering my career. I know this is something that differs for each individual. But for me? I want to feel some kind of security.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2065473945823551923?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2065473945823551923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2065473945823551923' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2065473945823551923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2065473945823551923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/different-strokes-for-different-folks.html' title='Different strokes for different folks'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-3370748663148787897</id><published>2009-06-01T09:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T09:24:47.119-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are you?</title><content type='html'>It's amazing what the morning can do after a night full of &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/surprised-me-too.html"&gt;darkness&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had moved on. Last week, he asked me to read a book about love. In that conversation he gave the implication that maybe...we could try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I read the book I became full of hope. Hope for love, and hope for loving him. Days passed and the hope grew as I turned the pages. I decided I could do it. We could do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what changed, or why things turn out the way they do. He didn't want to try again. He made that clear. My heart felt broken...again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today....today is better than yesterday. By miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although he wont let me love him....I feel hopeful that I can love someone else. &lt;em&gt;He'll&lt;/em&gt; be lucky....when I find him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-3370748663148787897?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/3370748663148787897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=3370748663148787897' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3370748663148787897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3370748663148787897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/where-are-you.html' title='Where are you?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2570094573263224616</id><published>2009-06-01T00:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T00:14:03.090-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprised? Me too.</title><content type='html'>I imagine being truly rejected feels much like being buried alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of you is terrified of what may happen. You're confused, scared, anxious. You can't breathe and your chest gets heavier by the second. You keep asking why this is happening to you and what you did to deserve having to go through this experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how I felt tonight. Completely and utterly rejected by someone that holds a part of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in pieces. I'll tell you why tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2570094573263224616?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2570094573263224616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2570094573263224616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2570094573263224616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2570094573263224616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/06/surprised-me-too.html' title='Surprised? Me too.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6614288398717345679</id><published>2009-05-29T16:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T16:20:41.822-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Double the c, double the s, then you've learned to spell Success</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about writing this post all day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Initially&lt;/span&gt; I wanted to write about trust and honesty: two vital components of making a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt; survive. Not only survive, but successful as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I wondered...what is the definition of a "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;successful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a previous post I said that I no longer believed the relationships in my life that have ended were failures. But are they successes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive decided this: any relationship where you learn something that in some way can help you better yourself equals a successful relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a far reaching statement when you think about relationships ending in divorce or even relationships that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt; abuse. But when you walked away...when you decided to take whatever path you chose...did you leave knowing that you were going to be a better person? When it wasn't your decision to end that chapter of your life did you look back and keep bitter feelings inside wishing things could be different or did you think about what you could do differently to not make the same mistakes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe that the end of relationships requires a grieving process. But then you pick up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pieces&lt;/span&gt;, and decide to make that previous relationship a "successful" one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6614288398717345679?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6614288398717345679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6614288398717345679' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6614288398717345679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6614288398717345679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/double-c-double-s-then-youve-learned-to.html' title='Double the c, double the s, then you&apos;ve learned to spell Success'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-522228107952737130</id><published>2009-05-28T08:32:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T08:54:22.990-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's go fishing!</title><content type='html'>Alright people, there is still time to &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/bringing-sexy-back.html"&gt;vote&lt;/a&gt;! And for all you boys out there who would never admit to reading my blog, make sure to vote :) I will be making my decision...in the future. Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok..so couple things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. June 6 I have tentative plans. With a boy. More details to come. You'll enjoy this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Remember &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/01/good-idea-what-do-you-think.html"&gt;Reasons to Run&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;? WELL, I have one today- but this one is for the guys. This came about when I was getting my nails done the other day and this chick was on her phone, making sure everyone could hear. From what I gathered, she was talking to some guy that she met online but hadn't met in person. Basically all I could get from it all is that she doesn't eat pork, but her friend Stacy loves it, but phone call guy loves pork and makes pork that doesn't taste like pork. Deep stuff huh? However, this is not the most annoying part. Which leads me to today's &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Reason to Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;12. If your chick LOVES to fish for compliments- let someone else do the high maintaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sh6iQFZwXdI/AAAAAAAAAL4/hqMLjoLThGk/s1600-h/gallery2350_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340884605319798226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sh6iQFZwXdI/AAAAAAAAAL4/hqMLjoLThGk/s320/gallery2350_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, she kept talking herself down so she could just hear him say how great she was. I don't know about you, but this is for sure one of my least favorite characteristics about people. I think it could be for two reasons, A. She has low self esteem. And in my personal opinion, you should love yourself first before you can fully love someone else or B. She really does need that validation which totally equals super high maintenance. So girls don't do it, and boys- feel free to have my permission to run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-522228107952737130?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/522228107952737130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=522228107952737130' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/522228107952737130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/522228107952737130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/lets-go-fishing.html' title='Let&apos;s go fishing!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sh6iQFZwXdI/AAAAAAAAAL4/hqMLjoLThGk/s72-c/gallery2350_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5510743870320158411</id><published>2009-05-26T10:19:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T10:54:05.924-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bringing sexy back</title><content type='html'>I've gotten sick of feeling unattractive. I don't know if this is a byproduct of my break ups, but I haven't felt up to par lately. So...I decided to do something about it. I've been going to the gym as often as possible (5 days last week..hope to make it 6 this one!), I went and got a tanning pass (I love being pale, but sometimes I need a little summer color), I got my nails done, and I plan on changing my hair. Problem is, I don't know what to change it to! So...here are the options, and I need your help in deciding! Remember...this time we are just deciding on color. Look to your right and you'll find a place for your opinion- so please vote!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Option 1&lt;/strong&gt; (No, I can't date him...he is my cousin!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCZuMoaI/AAAAAAAAALw/KmOA8D9lMlY/s1600-h/4616_519970050721_203000804_30876586_7287714_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340175185256161698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCZuMoaI/AAAAAAAAALw/KmOA8D9lMlY/s320/4616_519970050721_203000804_30876586_7287714_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Option 2&lt;/strong&gt;- My fancy Niece! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCHrMyHI/AAAAAAAAALo/UxNNSK6-xNI/s1600-h/4616_519969302221_203000804_30876542_2845348_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340175180411750514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCHrMyHI/AAAAAAAAALo/UxNNSK6-xNI/s320/4616_519969302221_203000804_30876542_2845348_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Option 3&lt;/strong&gt;- My baby sister! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCD4lwVI/AAAAAAAAALg/G7PzKdcSt84/s1600-h/243593238_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340175179394171218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCD4lwVI/AAAAAAAAALg/G7PzKdcSt84/s320/243593238_l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&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/1862330091666090133-5510743870320158411?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5510743870320158411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5510743870320158411' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5510743870320158411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5510743870320158411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/bringing-sexy-back.html' title='Bringing sexy back'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ShwdCZuMoaI/AAAAAAAAALw/KmOA8D9lMlY/s72-c/4616_519970050721_203000804_30876586_7287714_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-738717624584334691</id><published>2009-05-22T13:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T13:24:50.233-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Square peg, round hole</title><content type='html'>I had a major break through yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been texting an Ex about a couple of things and I was just so frustrating that I still haven't been able to completely let go and every time we speak I have feelings of sadness and anxiety about what could have happened... but didn't. We were actually talking about how he had become friends with a girl I went to high school who's become a pretty sketchy chick. I was frustrated that these are the kinds of people he spends his time with. You are who your friends are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What it really comes down to is that I was still sad that he didn't want me. I tried so hard to be everything I could for him and put so much effort into the relationship. I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then as I was driving last night it just hit me. Every time I talk to him I get so upset about things he does or people he is with or the way he lives his life. All this time I'd been upset about this person he could have been but wasn't. I wanted him to be my perfect guy...when he just wasn't. He ISN'T! So why continue wishing I could be with someone I saw so much potential in when that isn't the person he is?! That isn't what I want! I want to be with someone that is my perfect fit. I don't want to force the puzzle piece in when it just doesn't go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel done. It feels over. And I am so grateful for that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-738717624584334691?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/738717624584334691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=738717624584334691' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/738717624584334691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/738717624584334691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/square-peg-round-hole.html' title='Square peg, round hole'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4089325119789152114</id><published>2009-05-21T10:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T16:20:58.082-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Take it back!</title><content type='html'>One of the hardest things about falling in love is fearing the unknown. You never really KNOW how things are going to work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I go to Nordstrom and find the perfect little black dress and come home to realize that it does in no way conceal that spare tire, I can take it back...because I have a receipt. When I pay for love, through time, devotion, loyalty, etc. I don't get a receipt and I can &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; take it back. This is a risk we all have to take every time we open a door to the possibilities of falling in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the overly analytical person that I am, with a dash of loving to be in control, I have to think about all aspects before I make a decision. I tend to not be very spontaneous and I love to know every step of my plan. Even when it comes to making plans with friends, I NEED to know what day, exactly what time, exactly with who, and exactly where. Otherwise I am less than inclined to participate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe thats what it really boils down to. I've had experiences in the past where I've opened up and fallen completely in love only to realize in the end that as much as I wish I could take it back, I can't. I'm just too afraid of the lack of return policy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4089325119789152114?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4089325119789152114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4089325119789152114' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4089325119789152114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4089325119789152114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-of-hardest-things-about-falling-in.html' title='Take it back!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4580606089793449575</id><published>2009-05-20T14:24:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T14:28:34.435-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All I really want...</title><content type='html'>Well, today I'm having a mild case of writer's block. I guess when you're trying to diet it just sucks the awesome away. So instead...feel free to enjoy this little gem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ibf0tCNE2k8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ibf0tCNE2k8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mallory (left) + Bailey (right) + Las Vegas + Plus laughing Syd in the background= Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 1:02 is where it gets particularly incredible, in my humble opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4580606089793449575?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4580606089793449575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4580606089793449575' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4580606089793449575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4580606089793449575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/all-i-really-want.html' title='All I really want...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2604190145509331413</id><published>2009-05-18T10:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T11:20:55.101-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop flirting!</title><content type='html'>I've discovered my comfort zone is slightly different than most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I went to a bon fire with some friends and I had to stop myself from reverting to old habits: finding a cute boy and sparking conversation. This is what I've always done and being that I want to take a break from dating, I had to find a way to enjoy the night without batting my eyelashes. Funny right? I mean, I guess I've just built this little wall around me and will only open the gates to potential dating prospects. You'd think it would be the opposite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does make sense though. I've really never had great friendships with females. I tend to get along with guys better. I think part of it is sometimes I feel so intimidated by other women. Is that weird? I guess I just assume they wont like me and will be judgemental...which I guess is a judgment in itself. Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this week my plan is to branch out and working on developing my friendships. I think at the very least in the long run this will be beneficial to me mentally and emotionally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2604190145509331413?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2604190145509331413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2604190145509331413' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2604190145509331413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2604190145509331413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/stop-flirting.html' title='Stop flirting!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5130944863787669849</id><published>2009-05-15T10:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T10:48:34.185-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not kidding...</title><content type='html'>So &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/professional-fat-dater.html"&gt;T&lt;/a&gt; invited me to go camping this weekend. Camping. Me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who know me in real life know that for me, camping is like a scary Motel 6 in Idaho. So this should be interesting. But...as part of my new positive outlook on life (yes, I've decided to have one) I'm going to try new things. So camping it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll have pictures to document this baby step...and hopefully I won't refuse to put them up because I look like a bear mauled me in the night. Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5130944863787669849?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5130944863787669849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5130944863787669849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5130944863787669849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5130944863787669849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-not-kidding.html' title='I&apos;m not kidding...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6542828999691410634</id><published>2009-05-14T08:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T09:49:43.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Give me drugs or give me death</title><content type='html'>The past couple days have been rough. I had an intense migraine Wednesday and I don't think I've ever had a headache like that before. So..I took a bunch of drugs and figured I would sleep it off. Thursday I come to work and about 4 hours in I start losing my vision. I don't know if losing is the right word...but basically it felt like I was looking at a reflecting pool. So that went on for awhile and then my whole left hand went numb. Needless to say I was pretty freaked out...so I called my Dad. I think no matter how old I get, when I'm freaked out I'll always call my Daddy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my Dad gets a nurse on the line and I explain to her the issues and she says to go to the Emergency Room. No thanks. So I went home and hoped that if I just slept it would go away. Well the sleeping helped...and so did the IB Profen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at work today...drugged up and hoping it will get me through the day. I hate being "out of commission." I'm already feeling like I'm being unproductive without school, so the least I can do is work!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update on the date canceler...still no word from him. I'm basically done with that. I really don't deserve the run around. I don't care that much if he doesn't want to go out with me, but don't make a fool out of me by not telling me what is going on. We can most likely chalk it up to him having less than stellar communication skills. Oh well. Moving on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6542828999691410634?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6542828999691410634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6542828999691410634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6542828999691410634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6542828999691410634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/give-me-drugs-or-give-me-death.html' title='Give me drugs or give me death'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-3002689888699276173</id><published>2009-05-12T21:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T21:13:18.477-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the best night ever...</title><content type='html'>Well...he canceled. Shocked? I'm not really. I kind of had a feeling it would happen. He said we might be able to do it Thursday. I guess we will see...I'm kinda bummed. Sigh....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a massive headache the past few hours that's started to lighten up...thank heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-3002689888699276173?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/3002689888699276173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=3002689888699276173' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3002689888699276173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3002689888699276173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-best-night-ever.html' title='Not the best night ever...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4786561709227919084</id><published>2009-05-12T10:43:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T10:57:08.191-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Change it up</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow I've decided to take a slightly different approach than some of my normal first dates. I think it's because so far...I am interested in this one (as opposed to not knowing if I'm interested at all!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always been good at flirting. I don't know why. It's just a gift. I actually met my ex &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-little-taste.html"&gt;Derek&lt;/a&gt; while I was giving a flirting lesson to my old roommates. I know, right? So anyway, flirting...and being charming and witty...those come naturally. However...I have a few tendencies to do some less than stellar things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I can be too &lt;em&gt;sarcastic&lt;/em&gt;. Sometimes it seems that if my sarcasm were fire I would light the entire room. I have to be careful with this because A. Sometimes people don't understand it and B. They don't know me well enough and it can seem rude and off putting. &lt;br /&gt;2. Sometimes I can be &lt;em&gt;rude and off putting&lt;/em&gt;. I don't mean it! I swear! I think sometimes I can't hear my tone of voice or hear how things sound and I just sound like a bitter single adult man hater. I'm not! &lt;br /&gt;3. I'll &lt;em&gt;hold off &lt;/em&gt;on saying any compliments I feel. I've come to the conclusion that I do this because then I am vulnerable. They now have the ball in their court so to speak. But I think I should just say it. Who doesn't like a compliment? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know how my new "techniques" work out. Cross your fingers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4786561709227919084?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4786561709227919084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4786561709227919084' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4786561709227919084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4786561709227919084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/change-it-up.html' title='Change it up'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8613855854016691987</id><published>2009-05-11T10:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T11:37:17.451-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic day</title><content type='html'>My weekend was pretty uneventful, but pleasant. Basically kept myself busy...did a little retail therapy, hit up the gym, and got my nails done. Sometimes I feel like I'm too high maintenance for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So..I have a date this Wednesday. Wednesday seems like the magic day for me I guess. I'm excited for this one. I'm trying to be realistic about things but at the same time be open to something new. I've found myself just not even wanting to go out because I'm thinking I just don't want to go through it all again. I figure if I feel right about it I should just go for it. I guess we will just wait and see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8613855854016691987?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8613855854016691987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8613855854016691987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8613855854016691987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8613855854016691987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/magic-day.html' title='Magic day'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4070741845205304751</id><published>2009-05-08T14:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T14:32:52.757-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky me</title><content type='html'>In the past couple weeks I've talked to 2 friends from my past....they just got divorced. This is a trend I've been experiencing for the past year or so. Friends whose weddings I attended making the transition back into the single world they thought they would never know again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, as lonely as I get, as hard as it has been to end relationships, I would not trade that for having a marriage that didn't last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are good people. Good people who in some situations are divorced because of the actions of their partner. I am in no way making a judgment about anyone who is divorced. However, I would bet that none of them would have ever asked to go through a divorce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am lucky this is not a trial I have experienced...and hope more than anything not to experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4070741845205304751?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4070741845205304751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4070741845205304751' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4070741845205304751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4070741845205304751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/lucky-me.html' title='Lucky me'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8510671734278240906</id><published>2009-05-07T11:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T11:41:24.913-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Professional Fat Dater</title><content type='html'>Well, it's been an interesting morning. I've been working out consistently for the past 2 weeks. So when I weighed myself this morning, imagine my delight when I saw the scale go UP! That's right. Working out makes me gain weight. Ugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to see my final grades for last semester today. I've done better, but I've done worse. Oh well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I "forgot" to mention...I had a date last night. Honestly, I don't even know how it happened. One minute I'm talking about wanting to see a movie, and the next I have a dinner and a movie date for Wednesday. I think we can officially consider me a Professional Dater. Not to be confused with Professional Relationship Haver. It was fun, and T was very nice. Wolverine rules. It's weird having to &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/blah-blah-blah-im-so-cool.html"&gt;continue with letters again&lt;/a&gt;. I'm still having reservations. I'm just not ready yet. I thought maybe if I just put my foot in the door I would start feeling more ready. But maybe just not quite yet. I still miss &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-think-having-this-blog-has-helped-me.html"&gt;Nate&lt;/a&gt;. I do fine during the day but when night comes I start to get emotional about it again. It's weird. I hope that won't continue very much longer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...big news here...for the first time ever...I got hit on at the gym. Yes. Me. And get this...he wasn't a total creeper. In fact, he seemed fairly normal and nice. Of course not only am I a Professional Dater, but I'm also a Professional Social Media User and found him on Facebook. And I didn't even know his last name. I'm so amazing...or there is really something wrong with me. Take your pick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8510671734278240906?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8510671734278240906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8510671734278240906' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8510671734278240906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8510671734278240906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/professional-fat-dater.html' title='Professional Fat Dater'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5218199366759733930</id><published>2009-05-04T20:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T20:31:06.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Training Wheels</title><content type='html'>I've always felt like when my romantic relationships didn't work that I was a failure. I would constantly think about what I could have done differently. Maybe if I was more thoughtful, or more caring, or didn't worry so much. Maybe if I was more kind, made more jokes, listened better. I would begin to think about the superficial; he didn't want me because I wasn't thin enough. Maybe if I had blond hair, or if I was taller. Maybe I needed a tan or had better legs. Whatever the case, especially when I was younger, I would obsess about these things which would only lead to a self destructive spiral of sadness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not anymore. I don't think the relationships I've had, or the fact that they didn't last, makes me a failure. Every relationship we have is a part of our relationship training wheels. We learn things. We practice. And someday, when we are ready, we can graduate to a big girl (or boy) bike. At first it can be a little scary but it will be exciting and new and before we know it, we are going faster and faster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a few years ago a friend of mine was engaged and she told me her fiance said "what's wrong with Bailey? why isn't she married?" or something to that extent. FIRST off, I was only 19! Second, no one has the right to pass judgement on me, especially when they barely know me. And third, everyone is different. Although it doesn't make me happy, I would be lying if I didn't have a small piece of vindication knowing that she and her husband are barely speaking and their relationship has lost its honeymoon lust.I wasn't in support of their relationship as I thought they rushed into things (probably the reason he didn't like me).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I mean is that I'd rather wait. I'd rather have my training wheels on longer than be in a place that doesn't allow me to feel and be the best person I can be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5218199366759733930?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5218199366759733930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5218199366759733930' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5218199366759733930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5218199366759733930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/training-wheels.html' title='Training Wheels'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2215793784070873783</id><published>2009-05-02T23:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T23:56:28.213-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Church day hey baby hey</title><content type='html'>This weekend has been good. I don't dread the weekends the way I used to when I was younger and single. I think I just need to make an effort and I'll have things to do, as opposed to just waiting for people to invite me to things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a movie with my little brother Friday night. It was perfect. Good movie and good company. It's just nice sometimes to be with people who you know exactly who and what you are. Putting on a mask and a happy face can be tiresome when I'm not 100% quite yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I went with &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-i-went-to-bed-angry.html"&gt;Josh&lt;/a&gt; to dinner and then he was kind enough to come with me to some family things. Josh is the friend everyone needs. He fills in for any events when I don't have a boyfriend. I'm sure he doesn't know how much that means to me. But it means a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready for church tomorrow. There is just something about being consumed in spirituality that is very uplifting. Then back to the real world. Which is fine. Just wish it didn't start at 7 am&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2215793784070873783?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2215793784070873783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2215793784070873783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2215793784070873783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2215793784070873783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/05/church-day-hey-baby-hey.html' title='Church day hey baby hey'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5783360502467407076</id><published>2009-04-30T21:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T21:39:11.281-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Too tired for tears</title><content type='html'>My thoughts are really convoluted today. I guess we will see what comes out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do feel lonely. Mostly I'm just afraid that my flaws are too great and no one will ever want to accept those as a part of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain keeps pouring. Not necessarily for me, but for my family. So much is happening, so many lives changed, so many emotions. I've turned mine off. I stop myself from crying because I just can't do it anymore. I'm too tired. I don't have the energy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no desire to date. None. I want to work on finding new things to focus on. Do service. Take care of myself. Feel good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I didn't love Dr. Pepper so much. It's made me fat. I feel the same way about candy. You'd think after the waking up with wrappers stuck to my legs incident that I would have had a wake up call. Nope. Still love it. So much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5783360502467407076?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5783360502467407076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5783360502467407076' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5783360502467407076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5783360502467407076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/too-tired-for-tears.html' title='Too tired for tears'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6883113416844110860</id><published>2009-04-29T17:59:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T18:08:17.588-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not a believer</title><content type='html'>It's been an interesting week. I would say I've been OK post break-up. Not great, not good, but OK. And as long as things aren't getting worse I'm grateful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today would be our anniversary. Nate and mine that is. I wouldn't have even remembered (I have been trying not to dwell on anything) except I set a reminder on my phone! I'm retahded. That's right, with a Boston accent. Retahded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot about love lately. I really can't remember what it feels like to be in love anymore. I remember how it feels to lust, to crush, to like a lot, but I don't remember how love feels. It makes me sad. Especially since I've almost given up on love for me. I believe in love still, but I don't know if I believe in it for me anymore. Maybe it's just not in the cards for me. Everyone around me keeps saying to hold on, it will come. But they don't know that! Who knows, I could very well be the next Susan Boyle. All alone and frumpy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SfjrSW50ckI/AAAAAAAAALA/v8QLYt5QJ7Q/s1600-h/susan-boyle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SfjrSW50ckI/AAAAAAAAALA/v8QLYt5QJ7Q/s320/susan-boyle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330268859611247170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6883113416844110860?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6883113416844110860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6883113416844110860' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6883113416844110860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6883113416844110860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-not-believer.html' title='I&apos;m not a believer'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SfjrSW50ckI/AAAAAAAAALA/v8QLYt5QJ7Q/s72-c/susan-boyle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8346432745752871380</id><published>2009-04-27T16:57:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T17:12:47.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken Heart Rehab</title><content type='html'>So I've been really stoked on writing this post...I rushed home from work so I could write. First off, I need to apologize for however long this post will be. Normally I get bored if posts are super long and stop reading, so I'm sorry! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so these past few days my thoughts have really settled around the puzzle pieces of relationships. I just kept thinking, how could things with Nate not have worked out? We had all the pieces it seemed. We liked being together. We made each other laugh. We have the same morals and values. We were on the same wave length as far as having children and finances etc etc. So why didn't it work? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This had been consuming me up until yesterday. I talked to Nate online and asked him if he thought we were done forever. Ultimately what I got out of the conversation was that he was pretty over me. I was so sad because I thought we both were still wanting to be together, but it seems that isn't the case. Maybe the break up made us both see our feelings for what they really were. I cared more than I thought, and I guess he didn't care as much as he thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially this made me really sad, and yet AGAIN, I cried myself to sleep. But this morning I felt like I'd had some sort of closure. If he doesn't want to be with me, then there is no reason for me to keep wishing and hoping. Maybe we did have a lot of those puzzle pieces there...but not all of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying I'm fine now. It still makes me sad and of course, I'm still a little damaged. But at least now I can move on and begin the BHR- broken heart recovery. On a side note, there should be a rehab center for broken hearts. I'll dedicate it to Cody and Berkeley for no other reason than Berkeley's married name sounds like a funeral home slash rehab: Berkeley Hill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SfY7eT7ZtqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/1NnRgIXnpzE/s1600-h/view.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:cter;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SfY7eT7ZtqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/1NnRgIXnpzE/s320/view.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329512600971097762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldnt be a rehab without Amy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8346432745752871380?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8346432745752871380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8346432745752871380' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8346432745752871380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8346432745752871380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/broken-heart-rehab.html' title='Broken Heart Rehab'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SfY7eT7ZtqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/1NnRgIXnpzE/s72-c/view.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2309484320452273964</id><published>2009-04-24T10:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T10:35:32.426-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't think, just sleep</title><content type='html'>The hardest part post break-up for me are the nights. I try to keep myself busy during the day so I don't have too much time to dwell on any thoughts that will sink my heart, but at night...it seems unavoidable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As fun as distractions can be, at the end of the day, none of them are Nate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also feel pretty alone. The comments on here really help because I feel like in real life...I've always been the dating slash relationship kind of girl. So when that is over I'm left without anyone. At least no friends to take care of me and tell me it's going to be ok. So thanks e-friends for pulling through (for reals) it means a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2309484320452273964?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2309484320452273964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2309484320452273964' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2309484320452273964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2309484320452273964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-think-just-sleep.html' title='Don&apos;t think, just sleep'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2531897889865937419</id><published>2009-04-22T21:56:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T11:51:13.971-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate this part</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure when this post will actually make it up...but I guess I'm back to the dating world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past couple days it hit my like a ton of bricks. Things just weren't right. It just so happens that at the exact same time Nate felt the exact same way. We both prayed about it and feel like breaking up is the right thing to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm typing through tears so thank goodness for spell check. I haven't decided which is worse- getting dumped by someone that you barely cared about, or breaking up mutually with someone you care deeply about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest fear is that I'll never find someone who treated me the way Nate did. He was slash is &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt;. I told him I'll be jealous of any girl that gets to be with him forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that everything will be fine. Through the sobs and the moments I'm having to take to remember to breathe, I know I'll be OK. I know he will too. I know that it will take time. Even though my heart wasn't maliciously broken, nor his, it's still broken nonetheless. I already miss him. I hope he can still be a part of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight though, I'm sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2531897889865937419?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2531897889865937419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2531897889865937419' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2531897889865937419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2531897889865937419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-hate-this-part.html' title='I hate this part'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7646042772046037300</id><published>2009-04-20T17:52:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T18:05:36.492-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you know?</title><content type='html'>I was watching Dr. Phil last week (don't judge me!) and the whole show was about couples who are post "honeymoon days" and realize that in reality they don't know much about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Se0NlhJ5OUI/AAAAAAAAAKw/j5CdqzX6YFo/s1600-h/DrPhilFat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Se0NlhJ5OUI/AAAAAAAAAKw/j5CdqzX6YFo/s320/DrPhilFat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326928872455354690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really go me thinking- what does it really mean to know your significant other? I asked Nate awhile ago to tell me his favorite color just in case we were ever on a game show and I would get asked that question. But game show questions really don't say much about the kind of relationship you have. Well, I take that back. It probably shows the superficiality of your relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I can rattle off Nate's favorite kind of car, or favorite vacation spot. Maybe I know his favorite brand of clothing or ice cream flavor. But why does that matter? It can be nice to know to show that I can listen, or maybe that I am thoughtful when I surprise him with a few of his favorite candy bars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I really cared, I'd probably know what his morals and values are. I'd know what things are most important to him. I'd know what he is a afraid of and what he loves the most. I'd know how he feels about politics and finances. I'd learn what his dreams and aspirations are. These are the things that matter. They matter because we need to have some sort of commonality (beyond the surface interests)to make our relationship successful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I don't know what his favorite number is or what movie he will watch over and over (Muppet's in Space) but I know that we have the same goals and ideals. And I'd rather have that as our foundation than one that stands on our equal love of Dr. Pepper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7646042772046037300?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7646042772046037300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7646042772046037300' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7646042772046037300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7646042772046037300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-do-you-know.html' title='What do you know?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Se0NlhJ5OUI/AAAAAAAAAKw/j5CdqzX6YFo/s72-c/DrPhilFat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-3490519980424487246</id><published>2009-04-16T22:35:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T22:56:14.871-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise!</title><content type='html'>If I had to choose one quality about myself that would get an F- it would definitely have to be patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always pushing to have things be done, to move and to go and get results! In some aspects of my life it's great! I work hard in whatever career path I've put myself on. I don't procrastinate in my school assignments (at least not to the nervous break down point). However, it's a whole different ball game when it comes to relationships in any context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to know things. I love to know things right &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt;. I always think about how much I would love to see what my future holds for me. But in reality...I'm positive it's better not to. Not only would I not learn important lessons specifically designed for me, but I would probably be terrified of all the scary things and would just want to eat my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SegK_udzTzI/AAAAAAAAAKo/wvIRADfVWK4/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325518649286676274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SegK_udzTzI/AAAAAAAAAKo/wvIRADfVWK4/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think what I need to do is just embrace the elements of surprise. Life is full of them, and they are going to pop up whether I like it not. So might as well roll with the punches and throw that confetti. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-3490519980424487246?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/3490519980424487246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=3490519980424487246' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3490519980424487246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3490519980424487246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/surprise.html' title='Surprise!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SegK_udzTzI/AAAAAAAAAKo/wvIRADfVWK4/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6065853444008636193</id><published>2009-04-16T14:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T14:45:13.438-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Up ...</title><content type='html'>So, I'm planning on posting Part 3 soon, and if you're new please go &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/mean-girl.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; first (so it all makes sense :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before I do, I just want to explain why I've decided to share this part of my life. First of all, it does effect my relationships, which obviously is a part of my dating life. More importantly though, I just want to show people who may be struggling with the same issues that they aren't the only ones. I'm not looking for a pity party in &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;any way&lt;/span&gt;. I've come to terms that these things are and will continue to be a part of my life. I just hope that maybe people who have the same issues can gain something from my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooo...will post continuations on those posts soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6065853444008636193?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6065853444008636193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6065853444008636193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6065853444008636193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6065853444008636193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/coming-up.html' title='Coming Up ...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6460261058458053196</id><published>2009-04-14T14:56:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T16:01:28.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the evil one</title><content type='html'>I think having this blog has helped me to really start recognizing changes in myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever things happen, I think about how to blog it all. And even when I can't think of something specific to write about, It forces me to evaluate things in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I've been thinking a lot about not turning small problems into big ones. I think that has always been hard for me because I was so concerned about the other person and not upsetting them, or hurting them, etc. but not realizing that had I talked to them earlier on, things wouldn't have been blown out of proportion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a good communicative relationship with S. And that makes me happy. I know that I can talk to him about things that are bothering me, and I think he feels the same. We are still learning to adjust to each other and I think we both still have the fear of upsetting the other and having them run away, but in time I think we will learn that it's OK to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this doesn't make sense (I think it does, but just in case) it's because fumes are currently being pumped into my office courtesy of the mechanics. Feeling goooood now! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm sick of calling him S ....his real name is &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate&lt;/span&gt;... not to worry though, it's not &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2008/12/just-little-heart-broken.html"&gt;evil&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-case-you-were-curious.html"&gt;nate&lt;/a&gt;. It's cute amazing awesome boyfriend &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SeUFw5Xw9LI/AAAAAAAAAKg/83MqSgl_EWI/s1600-h/3042_518881631921_203000804_30837879_7006466_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324668472027837618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SeUFw5Xw9LI/AAAAAAAAAKg/83MqSgl_EWI/s320/3042_518881631921_203000804_30837879_7006466_n.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/1862330091666090133-6460261058458053196?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6460261058458053196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6460261058458053196' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6460261058458053196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6460261058458053196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-think-having-this-blog-has-helped-me.html' title='Not the evil one'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SeUFw5Xw9LI/AAAAAAAAAKg/83MqSgl_EWI/s72-c/3042_518881631921_203000804_30837879_7006466_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1885749053420256738</id><published>2009-04-11T13:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T13:12:00.876-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Numero 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/mean-girl.html"&gt;Part 1&lt;/a&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;and.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Part Dos:&lt;/p&gt;After the year of hell, otherwise known as sophomore year, I couldn't shake the horrible feelings. I was sad all the time. It took everything I had just to get out of bed in the mornings. I remember spending hours in my room hoping more than anything that I wouldn't have to come out. When I was surrounded by people, I felt completely alone. It was a weird dynamic; I wanted so badly for someone to know how much I was suffering inside but at the same time I would have rather died than told anyone. I became an exceptional actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I was on vacation with my family in St. George, Utah. My Dad and Aunt started talking about a discussion that was being had with the youth in a church group. Apparently someone had written a note about having thoughts of suicide. My Dad couldn't believe it. He went on and on about how scary that is, and my Aunt agreed. They kept going about how they needed to help this person and how sad it was. At that moment I woke up, figuratively speaking. I thought, "Wait, that's not normal? Every teenager doesn't have those reoccurring thoughts constantly?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had always chalked up my intense moods, irritability, and deep depression to normal teenage anxiety. The first thing I did when I came home from that vacation was jump online. I googled the word &lt;em&gt;Depression&lt;/em&gt;. As I read, I felt like someone had jumped into my head, saw all my thoughts and wrote them down. To be honest, I felt relief. I didn't have to be this way. This wasn't who I really was. Maybe now since I knew something was wrong, I could be fixed?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1885749053420256738?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1885749053420256738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1885749053420256738' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1885749053420256738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1885749053420256738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/numero-2.html' title='Numero 2'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2499778296272190279</id><published>2009-04-09T15:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T15:32:40.341-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean Girl</title><content type='html'>The next few posts have been a long time coming. I've really wanted to talk about a few things I deal with in my life, but I really haven't had the courage. It's an interesting contrast my life has become- between the me in real life and the me in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blogosphere&lt;/span&gt;. I tend to open up to very few people in real life. I hate feeling vulnerable. The reason I've taken my sweet time in opening up on a deeper level on here is because many close friends and family read this and I'm just not sure I want them to know certain things about me. I'm not a serial killer or a secret freaky doll collector or anything, just to be clear. But when I was 16 I began a battle I didn't know I would be fighting for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of me that doesn't define me, Part 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned 15 a few months into my sophomore year of high school. It had been a rough summer as I decided that I needed to move from my current group of friends (druggie slash &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;skanky&lt;/span&gt; chicks) to some people who maybe I had a little more in common with. I'd also tried out to be on the Cheer Squad and not only made it, but was appointed as Captain. This become a more frustrating experience than I ever thought it would be. There was one girl who I'd essentially grown up with who was also on the squad. I don't think I'll ever really know why, but she decided she was going to hate me and do her best to make my life as hard as possible to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still consider that year to be one of the hardest, if not THE hardest of my life. She spread rumors about me. She told people that I was a bad person and would put me down whenever she got the chance. She threatened to beat me up or have her friends beat me up. She made it difficult to keep my cheer squad together and eventually ended up quitting which left our little team in a lurch. You know the saying that the squeaky wheel gets the grease? Well, she got it. I didn't have any friends. I felt really alone. I never fought back. My Mom kept telling me that if I just didn't react eventually it would stop. And it did. But at the expense of triggering a part of me I never knew I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sd5ofjj-1UI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/UbbdsU0aJgI/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322806700929897794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sd5ofjj-1UI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/UbbdsU0aJgI/s320/untitled.bmp" 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/1862330091666090133-2499778296272190279?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2499778296272190279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2499778296272190279' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2499778296272190279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2499778296272190279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/mean-girl.html' title='Mean Girl'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sd5ofjj-1UI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/UbbdsU0aJgI/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5209142334697626458</id><published>2009-04-08T23:00:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T23:36:53.884-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How are we so sexy?!</title><content type='html'>I'm so glad I have the chance to blog- but more sad that it's 11 pm, I'm tired, my head hurts from homework and stress, and that my super cute boyfriend and I only have time to type next to each other instead of go on sweet awesome dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/baby-bump.html"&gt;mini-crisis&lt;/a&gt; is over though, and I'm happy to report that. We spent a day apart to get it together, and since then things have been smooth sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best things about our relationship is that we are both just different. We both pride ourselves on being individualistic and independent, and this something that carries over into our relationship. I need to remember that when I wonder why I don't want to spend every waking second with him or why we don't need to be constantly touching to reaffirm our feelings for each other. My Dad has always said it would take someone special to marry me (um,thanks?) but it's true. I'm not like everyone else, and neither is S. So why should our relationship be anything but unconventional? Absolutely NOT an announcement or anything- hello? I know I live in marriage town USA, but I don't move THAT fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sd2IPZT5gcI/AAAAAAAAAKI/-U2Zw5eRk98/s1600-h/IMG_6990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322560132695556546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sd2IPZT5gcI/AAAAAAAAAKI/-U2Zw5eRk98/s320/IMG_6990.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we plan on going to a concert Friday night so that will be good to have a break from finals induced stress week. Also, I promise to recommit myself to my lover (blog) and post more. Rejoice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5209142334697626458?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5209142334697626458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5209142334697626458' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5209142334697626458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5209142334697626458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-are-we-so-sexy.html' title='How are we so sexy?!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sd2IPZT5gcI/AAAAAAAAAKI/-U2Zw5eRk98/s72-c/IMG_6990.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4014319603891166354</id><published>2009-04-06T17:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T17:23:00.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby bump</title><content type='html'>So S and I have a hit our first bump. It's a small one, but a bump nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we just spent so much time together this week and weekend that it became slightly overwhelming. I think we both have been out of the whole relationship thing for so long that jumping in feet first without any floaties probably wasn't the best idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, I just am so used to being alone and getting things done when I feel like it. Now things need to be scheduled around someone else and it's just a little hard to adjust to. I realize I've become a little selfish in the year and a half I've spent on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, we have a really good open line of communication so I think if we continue to tell each other any issues we may have we can resolve them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I'm easily disenchanted. I hate that about myself. I'm such a realist that I can't even enjoy the butterflies in my stomach part of dating because I know it won't last. It makes me sad. But on the other hand, I know things won't always be happy and fluffy and I learn to deal with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately it's just a matter of time to see if we want to work out the differences we have. Maybe we are going through this for a reason and will become stronger in the end or will learn that we are great people, but maybe just not great together. Either way, I'm lucky to have such a great example of friendship, kindness, and charity- just to name a few.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4014319603891166354?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4014319603891166354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4014319603891166354' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4014319603891166354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4014319603891166354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/baby-bump.html' title='Baby bump'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5582201256169884652</id><published>2009-04-04T16:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T17:02:21.943-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who doesn't love the Gyno?</title><content type='html'>Clearly it's been a few days and I'm SO sorry! Along with the change in my relationship status, it's also the end of the semester, and I started my new job! It's going great, by the way. It's so relaxed and everyone is really nice. I do miss a couple of my old co-workers, but the new job is so great that I do not regret leaving my previous employment in the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random story: I went with the chick that is training me for my job to get some office candy. The guy at the register, who was probably late 40's or so, was talking about how much sugar we were buying. We explained it was for the office and he laughed a little and said "I guess that could be a good thing to sugar up some Accountants, but maybe not so good if you're working as a Gyno!" Uhm. Awkward. It's weird by itself but then I was thinking about the reasons sugar would be bad in that field...and well... extra weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO anyways...My sweet awesome friend &lt;a href="http://meganbowns.blogspot.com/"&gt;Meg&lt;/a&gt; asked if I was going to change the title of my blog being that I am no longer "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Single&lt;/span&gt;." I've decided to keep it the same as I have not taken the plunge into married land. So in the eternal sense, still single. So hopefully you'll still enjoy coming back as I relate all my relationship ups and downs :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course...to entice you back...here is this little nugget of awesome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SdflCeoF83I/AAAAAAAAAKA/g1mrDbq6rI4/s1600-h/n203000804_30827690_8096468.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320973315505255282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SdflCeoF83I/AAAAAAAAAKA/g1mrDbq6rI4/s320/n203000804_30827690_8096468.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This is from the Festival of Colors hosted by the Hare Krishna's. To be honest, it was a minimal amount of fun for a large amount of discomfort. But....not a bad first photo as a couple ;) Oh, and &lt;a href="http://codychops.blogspot.com/"&gt;Berkeley and Cody&lt;/a&gt; were there. I love them always. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5582201256169884652?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5582201256169884652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5582201256169884652' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5582201256169884652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5582201256169884652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/04/clearly-its-been-few-days-and-im-so.html' title='Who doesn&apos;t love the Gyno?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SdflCeoF83I/AAAAAAAAAKA/g1mrDbq6rI4/s72-c/n203000804_30827690_8096468.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7727653459356577793</id><published>2009-03-31T12:05:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T12:31:05.495-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why So SeriouS?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Happy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;100&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;to me&lt;/span&gt;!!!!! I can't believe I've posted 100 times! It's ridiculous! Not only that...but people actually read my stuff! So....In honor of my 100 amazing awesome posts...how about a &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Giveaway&lt;/span&gt;?? I have a little something I'd like to give...but if there are any sponors that would like to contribute, please send an email to &lt;a href="mailto:singlebailey@gmail.com"&gt;singlebailey@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;. So at my 105th- I'll post what is up for grabs and how &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt; can win!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so back to what I &lt;em&gt;know &lt;/em&gt;you've been on edge about.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My weekend was pretty SeriouS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SeriouSly AweSome!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you didn't catch my clever little hints with the capitalized S's....My choice of boy in my life is &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/dear-boys-i-like-you-again.html"&gt;S&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night I went to a concert-which was super awesome p.s.- and when I got home S came over and spent some time with me. I don't know how or why, but it just felt right. The next morning I awoke feeling so happy! No anxieties, no regrets. And based on my previous &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-step-at-timei-guess.html"&gt;posts&lt;/a&gt;? We know how common those feelings are. So it's a big deal for me to have an absence of them. I thought about it the rest of the morning and really felt at peace with my decision. Yay for me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had the following conversation with my friend &lt;a href="http://dailyderbi.blogspot.com/"&gt;Chad&lt;/a&gt; that went a little something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chad: So is this like the bachelor where you give them roses at the end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bailey: Ha ha kind of. But I was thinking footballs...roses are for girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chad: Well, I like football, but I don't know about that. How about beef jerky? I think we can agree that every guy likes beef jerky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bailey: Ha ha. Done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So- to my S, who is now my boyfriend (can you believe that!?) I give you this to represent my caring and affection:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SdJfA6k2S3I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dof4D551Ja0/s1600-h/orig-small.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319418579206425458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SdJfA6k2S3I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dof4D551Ja0/s320/orig-small.gif" 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/1862330091666090133-7727653459356577793?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7727653459356577793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7727653459356577793' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7727653459356577793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7727653459356577793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-so-serious.html' title='Why So SeriouS?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SdJfA6k2S3I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dof4D551Ja0/s72-c/orig-small.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7875899545199497369</id><published>2009-03-28T12:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T12:27:02.240-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Tuned...</title><content type='html'>Dear Crazy Bailey,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made a decision. I've chosen a letter and I feel really good about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will write soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome Bailey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7875899545199497369?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7875899545199497369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7875899545199497369' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7875899545199497369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7875899545199497369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/stay-tuned.html' title='Stay Tuned...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1877920548131661712</id><published>2009-03-26T15:15:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T15:39:42.150-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cadbury Life Preserver</title><content type='html'>This week has been pretty busy thus far- but hopefully I'll make it without a nervous break down. Or at least crying. So far naps+cadbury mini eggs= no tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Scv1VRMUqwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/BubxRjvxQZ0/s1600-h/MiniEggs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317613530782149378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Scv1VRMUqwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/BubxRjvxQZ0/s320/MiniEggs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to study when I get home from class, then Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of this week I've hung out with S or R later in the evening. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went over &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/walk-it-out.html"&gt;Monday&lt;/a&gt;, and Tuesday I spent some time with S again. We went to this hip hop class which basically just made me realize that I'm extremely rusty slash out of shape. It was humbling as I'm used to being the best in the class but there were people there that could eat me for dance breakfast. Nice to get some exercise though and do what I love more than anything else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I spent about 4 hours studying, then went with R to a movie. We saw &lt;em&gt;Taken&lt;/em&gt;...I thought it was wicked awesome. I would give it probably a realistic 8 out of 10. I felt my time was well spent. The only time I've ever felt like I completely waisted my time and was slightly angry is when I saw &lt;em&gt;Ice Age.&lt;/em&gt; I just heard blogosphere gasps, but really, worst movie ever! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Scv1HBxnAXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vOvuEAVMTzM/s1600-h/039_ICE_AGE_2SIDED.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317613286125404530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Scv1HBxnAXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vOvuEAVMTzM/s320/039_ICE_AGE_2SIDED.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really am trying to figure out which guy I would really want something to progress with in a romantic relationship. It's been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I just want to make sure I'm making the right choice, that is, if either of them are right for me. I truly don't want to hurt anyone so I think it's important to take my time and be very careful. I am currently not kissing nor I have committed to either boy. I don't think I could feel good about making out with someone, then going on a date the next day with someone else. Not cool. So wish me luck....I need it. &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/1862330091666090133-1877920548131661712?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1877920548131661712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1877920548131661712' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1877920548131661712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1877920548131661712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/cadbury-life-preserver.html' title='Cadbury Life Preserver'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Scv1VRMUqwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/BubxRjvxQZ0/s72-c/MiniEggs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5362547937313113286</id><published>2009-03-24T12:52:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T13:05:37.126-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk it out</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I'm about to hit 100 posts....3 more to go. I think this calls for a giveaway...what do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night, I had a date with S and I had so much fun! We didn't do anything spectacular. We had dinner, then just hung out...and being the social media lovers we are, we read blogs and watched YouTube videos. And we loved it. We have plans to hang out Saturday and I'm excited for that. Each date seems to get better. I hope the trend in that market continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KU3N5c2Kxnw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KU3N5c2Kxnw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how easy it is for me to turn parts of my personality on and off. When it's go time, I can be fun, charming, outgoing, witty, etc. etc. etc. But, when I go home, the realist in me rears its ugly head and I begin to let doubts and fears creep in which results in an awesome worry slash stress session. I really do need to learn to calm down. I'm thinking Tylenol PM...I hear it does wonders. Sometimes I like to just run away from problems. And by sometimes, I mean most of the time. At least until I can gather the courage to do what I know needs to be done. The trick is getting to that point faster. I hate change....Obama sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5362547937313113286?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5362547937313113286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5362547937313113286' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5362547937313113286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5362547937313113286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/walk-it-out.html' title='Walk it out'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8101570810418806857</id><published>2009-03-23T15:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T15:40:31.040-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Baby Oh Baby</title><content type='html'>I am so happy to be home. Regardless that it is Monday, I have returned to real life, and I sat next to a baby with a freakishly ginormous head on the airplane. Seriously, a TLC special worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ScgBEVElPhI/AAAAAAAAAJg/tQlnxXl495k/s1600-h/2657069-2-baby-doll-head.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316500533998337554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ScgBEVElPhI/AAAAAAAAAJg/tQlnxXl495k/s320/2657069-2-baby-doll-head.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I met this super sexy guy at no where else but....the singles ward! Bah ha! He is super nice but also has wicked awesome bad boy hair. Loved it. He got straight to the point and said he wanted to take me out. Too bad my flight left at 9. He was probably the love of my life and we were going to have 10 super nice sweet awesome haired babies. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;R picked me up from the airport. That was very nice of him and I appreciated it. I was scared on the way home though because of all the snow. Really glad I left 85 degree Vegas weather for this shiz. As far as R and I go, I'm still just trying to take everything at super slow speed. I think it's better that way for all parties involved. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to see S again tonight and that makes me happy. I've seen him once since original date, so it will be fun getting to know him a little better...in person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I plan to be up to my knees in homework this week, and I'll be sure to let you know how amazing I do on my media law test (sending good vibes into the universe...thanks "&lt;em&gt;The Secret&lt;/em&gt;" &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*please sense sarcasm&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you imagine birthing the ginormous head baby? Paaaaaasssssss. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8101570810418806857?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8101570810418806857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8101570810418806857' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8101570810418806857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8101570810418806857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-baby-oh-baby.html' title='Oh Baby Oh Baby'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ScgBEVElPhI/AAAAAAAAAJg/tQlnxXl495k/s72-c/2657069-2-baby-doll-head.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-471662259861766133</id><published>2009-03-21T14:03:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T14:15:56.622-06:00</updated><title type='text'>3 month rule?</title><content type='html'>I'm getting close to 100 posts. Can you believe that? Crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the vacation continues in Vegas. I'm trying to relax, but no matter where I go I seem to find things I can stress and obsess about. I really should put it on a list of talents I've developed over the years. I did put my mind at ease this morning by spending it in bed reading my media law book. Viva &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Las Vegas&lt;/span&gt; right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided when I get home my main priority will be school. I really can't afford to spend much time on anything else unfortunately. I just keep thinking how wonderful it will be to go to work all day and then come home to....no homework! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt; dreaming big right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I've also been thinking about is a 3 month rule. I think it takes about 90 days to really get to know someone. So why not have that grace period before I think about any sort of commitment? As I type I do realize that putting a time period on things is somewhat ridiculous. But I do have to find some ways in keeping my sanity. I'm just trying to survive people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope your weekend is magical e-friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-471662259861766133?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/471662259861766133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=471662259861766133' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/471662259861766133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/471662259861766133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/3-month-rule.html' title='3 month rule?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6763342349428798422</id><published>2009-03-18T18:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T19:08:02.264-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't NEED to do homework...</title><content type='html'>This morning I woke up about 3 times and I can't tell you how amazing it was to just roll over and go back to sleep because I could!!! I'm having a hard time ruining my time with homework. Maybe tomorrow I'll get to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying my time with my family. I especially like coming here because they make me feel so good about myself. They can't stop talking about how pretty or tiny I am- and even at 22 years old, it feels good to hear- regardless of how true it is :) (still working on this freaking muffin top...bleh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ScGabGHp-HI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rseZac7xQ1M/s1600-h/untitled2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314698825563764850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ScGabGHp-HI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rseZac7xQ1M/s320/untitled2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a Dr. Pepper on the plane last night and I feel no guilt. In fact- I'm proud of it! (so maybe not working TOO hard on the muffin top) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm starting to miss the time I've been able to spend with a couple letters- and by that I mean boys (in case you're new). I will say that I expected more texts but it's good they haven't come because it makes me realize that I do enjoy the company. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My thoughts seem slightly convoluted right now and in no particular order. Won't apologize. I'm on vacation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6763342349428798422?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6763342349428798422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6763342349428798422' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6763342349428798422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6763342349428798422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-dont-need-to-do-homework.html' title='I don&apos;t NEED to do homework...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/ScGabGHp-HI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rseZac7xQ1M/s72-c/untitled2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5383271733492541976</id><published>2009-03-17T15:09:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T15:32:06.875-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Excellente means excellent in Spanish</title><content type='html'>If you are looking to read a blog by someone who just got offered a new job and accepted it...then you're in the right place! Wooooot! More hours, more pay, and less &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/man-baby.html"&gt;Spud&lt;/a&gt;. Life is good. So at least my proffesional life is excellente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still struggling with anxieties but I think my spring break in Vegas will help calm the waters. Bascially, I'll be studying a lot. I know it sounds lame, but I'm kind of stoked. It gets my mind focused and away from other things and gives me time take that last push I need to come out of top as far as grades go. Ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched a movie with R last night and he made me promise not tell which one on here. But I think he secretly wants me to share with you all...but just in case...I'll just say that it rhymes with She and ends with The Man. :D I think he loved it more than any other movie ever. Ok, probably not. But he did enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH- also I came out to my car this morning to which I found a nice letter from S just saying that I shouldn't be super worried about life and everything will be ok. How do I know such nice people?! Really appreciated that. As well as all the comments on my last post. Eternally grateful. For reals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5383271733492541976?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5383271733492541976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5383271733492541976' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5383271733492541976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5383271733492541976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/excellente-means-excellent-in-spanish.html' title='Excellente means excellent in Spanish'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5449996079868340300</id><published>2009-03-16T14:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T15:01:25.077-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One step at a time...I guess?</title><content type='html'>Well, the weekend was good. Not really anything too exciting- basically what I wrote in the last post happened, and that was that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to talk about some things that I really struggle with, and ultimately I am hoping to get some feedback because generally I feel like I'm the only one like this. So- as I've stated in the past, I've concluded that I'm afraid of commitment. I think not only because I'm afraid but because I struggle with huge anxiety issues. Every time I think about being with one person or think that maybe they are getting "attached" to me, I feel my heart start to pump and I feel trapped. It isn't a fun feeling- and it continues to happen. My biggest concern is that maybe relationships just trigger my anxiety and no matter what I do- the anxieties will always be there. I've always come to the conclusion that maybe the relationship just isn't right for me...but part of me really wonders if it's more of psychological issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking a friend this weekend and he was saying that in all the relationships he'd been in, he'd never felt the need to break up with someone or that it wasn't right for him. He just always felt fine about everything and the girl always ended up dumping him. Ummmmm opposite of my life maybe! How I wish I could be that way! Of course I wouldn't want to be someone that puts up with being disrespected or anything of the sort, but to just be content with one person for a long period of time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is just me? Am I the only one? I feel like I can't be. I just wish I could find some clear answer as to what to do because if it is just me and my crazy head...maybe I just need to brave the storm and find a way to come to terms with the fact that this is something I am just going to need to deal with for the rest of my life. But if it isn't...if I really will find someone where I don't have these constant anxieties about....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if, what if, what if....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5449996079868340300?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5449996079868340300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5449996079868340300' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5449996079868340300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5449996079868340300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-step-at-timei-guess.html' title='One step at a time...I guess?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-7787051973207113567</id><published>2009-03-13T15:20:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T15:34:22.540-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome Info...but not quite yet!</title><content type='html'>I just learned how to put videos on my blog (I'm so behind the times) but now all I want to do is post videos! But I wont, mostly because they probably wouldn't have anything to do with what I write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I got a surprise offer for lunch from S. I have very happy to see he was 10 times less nervous (although, I do think there seemed to be a hint of it left) but it was definitely a good time. I enjoy talking to him and I like especially that I can be myself. Although I may get in trouble for my "inappropriate comments" (Mom!) I think S quite enjoys them. Happy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I will be spending more time with R. We are hitting up a wedding reception (not our own) and then a CD release party for &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.myspace.com/greenlikejulyonline"&gt;Green Like July&lt;/a&gt;. After which we might break out the big guns and open our sweet awesome dinosaur capsules that expand in water. We're just a couple of rebels I tell ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend is promising and I have some exciting information which I need to wait to post about but just know I'm pretty stoked about said secret information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbrQ7XXpjbI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/4hSGVXq-RYQ/s1600-h/shhhh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312788428740988338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbrQ7XXpjbI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/4hSGVXq-RYQ/s320/shhhh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a fabulous weekend e-friends!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-7787051973207113567?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/7787051973207113567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=7787051973207113567' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7787051973207113567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/7787051973207113567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/awesome-infobut-not-quite-yet.html' title='Awesome Info...but not quite yet!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbrQ7XXpjbI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/4hSGVXq-RYQ/s72-c/shhhh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4546597707629498701</id><published>2009-03-12T13:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T13:33:04.603-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's got the time?</title><content type='html'>I'm slightly irritable today. I hate that. I think I'm just super stressed with school (and skipping three classes this week certainly didn't help) and I'm ready for spring break and some time off of work. I'm looking into getting another part time job in the mornings for the summer. Need to pay those bills right?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how I ever had time for relationships before! I've got so much going on it feels like worrying about my love life (although prominent on this blog) has taken a back seat to my worries about career, school, and other aspects of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do need a change of pace. I keep thinking about how quickly time passes and I can't afford to waste it on things that don't put me on a path towards my goals or help me in becoming a better and happier person. It just doesn't seem right! I believe we are truly meant to be happy as human beings but we stifle that process for things like security and become apathetic to what makes life worth living. I'm one to talk right?! Time to get out and make something of myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4546597707629498701?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4546597707629498701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4546597707629498701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4546597707629498701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4546597707629498701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/whos-got-time.html' title='Who&apos;s got the time?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1169509589566426031</id><published>2009-03-11T14:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T14:44:32.887-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm 60 years young....</title><content type='html'>Dearest friends and family:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for continuing to read my blog. It truly makes me happy when I see my readership climb and climb. It's a simple pleasure I've become incredibly fond of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been spending time with &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/dear-boys-i-like-you-again.html"&gt;R&lt;/a&gt; this week and enjoying it very much. I like building a friendship and learning more about someone that genuinely wants to learn about me. We've been watching movies, drinking hot chocolate, playing games, and working on puzzles. I didn't realize how much it sounds like we are 60 living in a retirement community. To each their own! I'll continue to write about adventures of Bailey and R in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel good today. This may be in part due to the fact that I took another mental health day (I won't feel guilty!) but I feel happy. I feel grateful and blessed in many ways. I love the sunshine and feeling like the world is a beautiful place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/run-forrest-run.html"&gt;I still hate cats. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-1169509589566426031?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1169509589566426031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1169509589566426031' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1169509589566426031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1169509589566426031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-60-years-young.html' title='I&apos;m 60 years young....'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8240560476139438706</id><published>2009-03-10T13:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T13:39:31.076-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Run, Forrest, Run!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I could barely stand how tired I was. I took 2 naps. You heard me. 2. I did go to all my classes, work, the gym, and cleaned- so I was productive but not as much as I could have been. Today I'm not as tired which seems ironic being that I only got 6 hours of sleep. Meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I've been thinking a lot about my commitment issues. I've at least gathered this much: I don't like to commit because it hurts so much if things don't work out. So if there is no commitment, I can't hurt someone, or be hurt, as badly. The logic behind it seems like it would make sense but when I read that over it sounds ridiculous. I do not want to live in fear, but I also don't want to feel so sad when things don't go as I had hoped. Ultimately, I just want to stop running away. When a boy is nice to me and shows interest in me I get slightly uncomfortable and most of the time my first urge is to run. I don't want to do that anymore. Maybe I should just face the music and work through the anxiety? Yes? No? Hm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still slightly convinced I'm going to end up a cat lady. I guess cats aren't so bad. Except they are and I hate them so much and I can't let that happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbbBaea9WNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/su-wUvM6Sds/s1600-h/funny%2520crazy%2520cat.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311645471116974290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbbBaea9WNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/su-wUvM6Sds/s320/funny%2520crazy%2520cat.gif" 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/1862330091666090133-8240560476139438706?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8240560476139438706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8240560476139438706' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8240560476139438706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8240560476139438706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/run-forrest-run.html' title='Run, Forrest, Run!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbbBaea9WNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/su-wUvM6Sds/s72-c/funny%2520crazy%2520cat.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6690889217195368834</id><published>2009-03-09T14:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T15:19:58.045-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Boys: I like you again.</title><content type='html'>Oh. My.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So so much to blog about today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is day 1 post dating marathon, and let me tell you, it was pretty intense. Not in a bad way, but 3 first dates where I need to be on top of my game? I'm definitely feeling the fatigue the sport of dating causes. I'm sure it may have something to do with daylight savings, but who knows ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q showed up to my house Friday night about 20 min late with no phone call. I hate when people are late. I was annoyed, especially cause I was hungry! I got over it pretty quick though and we drove up to Sandy to the watch Jazz Game. The conversation on the way up was good, we had a lot in common. Dinner and the game were fun. I felt comfortable with the group of people there and made them laugh many a time- my main thrill in life. The drive home was nice as well as it gave us more time to talk one on one. Ultimately the date was uneventful, but very pleasant. I very much enjoyed it and did get a "let's do this again sometime!" out of it. If he asked again, I would say yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R was Saturday night. He was about 5 min late but did call. Much appreciated. Turns out it was the brother of the girl that set me up! She said didn't tell me it was him because she didn't want me to feel obligated. Fair enough. We went to this mini-golf, go-kart, arcade type place with 2 other couples. We pretty much did everything in the place and didn't end up leaving till 1 am. After that, the two of us went to IHOP and ate and talked for awhile. I didn't get home until 3:45 am. To say the least, it was a great date. So much better than I could have anticipated and really glad I didn't cancel, which had crossed my mind. I really had some good chemistry with him. He's already asked me out again...:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S is for Sunday! I made dinner and he was in charge of dessert. He was on time! Even though he got semi-lost (wrote down the wrong address) he was still on time. A+ for that. He also brought me flowers! So cute right?! I can't remember the last time I got flowers. So we had dinner together and talked and talked. It was nice to meet the person behind the blog :) We ended up watching super weird and random TV shows for awhile. Thanks TV, for making the date pretty memorable. By 10 I was exhausted, so we called it a night. I could tell he was nervous at the beginning, but started to loosen up. I really enjoyed getting to know him and hopefully he ends up taking me dancing one of these days!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all- it really was a great weekend that has restored my faith in great guys. I would go out with all three of them again. Ultimately, I just want to take things slow with whomever I end up with whether it be Q, R, S or any other letter. People sometimes look good on paper, but I think there needs to be more. I just hope I get a chance to really get to know a couple if not all of these really great guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-6690889217195368834?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6690889217195368834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6690889217195368834' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6690889217195368834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6690889217195368834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/dear-boys-i-like-you-again.html' title='Dear Boys: I like you again.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8411765138397580753</id><published>2009-03-06T15:01:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T15:46:15.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>11 days!</title><content type='html'>Instead of killing &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/man-baby.html"&gt;Spud&lt;/a&gt;, I thought it better to blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright so if you saw &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-many-letters-so-little-time.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; and the comments below- It's true, I have a date on Sunday with S. Don't worry church goers- we are making dinner and staying in. I'm nervous slash excited and ready for whatever will happen. Kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I have a date with Q. This is a guy my friend set me up with in a round about way. He seems nice enough. We are going up to Iggy's Sports Bar in Sandy and watching the Jazz game and hopefully eating lots of food. I don't mind watching the game, but it's a lot easier for me to sit through if I have food. I love food so much. It's a wonder how I'm not 300 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday is blind date guy. I really don't have much to say about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had an epiphany about my life and why some things have been a struggle lately. I do intend to write a detailed blog later, but I will say I think I found some solutions to some of my current issues, so I'm optimistic about the next few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Countdown to Spring Break: 11 days!!!!! I wont make any promises that this won't be me (out of excitement of course):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbGgGAVfeoI/AAAAAAAAAI4/mnb4mMS8UY8/s1600-h/crazy_woman.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310201460676328066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbGgGAVfeoI/AAAAAAAAAI4/mnb4mMS8UY8/s320/crazy_woman.bmp" 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/1862330091666090133-8411765138397580753?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8411765138397580753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8411765138397580753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8411765138397580753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8411765138397580753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/11-days.html' title='11 days!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SbGgGAVfeoI/AAAAAAAAAI4/mnb4mMS8UY8/s72-c/crazy_woman.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-3864866998659681099</id><published>2009-03-04T14:19:00.012-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T15:41:37.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So many letters, so little time.</title><content type='html'>Anything could have been better than last week, but this one has been exceptional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this weekend I have a date Friday and on Saturday. More importantly I'm excited for a date I will have next week. Funny thing about time though- sometimes it changes things. So I will hold off on too much excitement until after said date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may have implied in my last blog that I can't find anyone to kiss. This is very much not the case. It's easy to kiss someone I don't know. I think that goes for most people. If you don't know them, they can't gross you out and you can be blissfully ignorant to how horrible they are. The key is finding someone you already know and like and want to kiss them for those reasons as opposed to just really wanting some action because your canteen is empty. So- currently in search of boy who is worthy of kissing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sa75zJ2a-_I/AAAAAAAAAIw/dq4K5vu1va8/s1600-h/kiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309455667929218034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sa75zJ2a-_I/AAAAAAAAAIw/dq4K5vu1va8/s320/kiss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really new with mystery guy. Whatever. I'm kind of crushing on yet another boy...&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, it takes a lot for me to get emotionally attached for real....like to the point where I'm really sad if things don't work out. So I guess I just move around a lot if I'm not seeing any interest from the other side. I'm so emotionally healthy ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reason to Run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;11. If he is constantly talking about his ex girlfriends, maybe he should just go hang out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sa75OQl17TI/AAAAAAAAAIo/IHZU1DZBqsE/s1600-h/chuck_norris_random_fact_generator_6_3957_2224_image_2578.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309455034083568946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sa75OQl17TI/AAAAAAAAAIo/IHZU1DZBqsE/s320/chuck_norris_random_fact_generator_6_3957_2224_image_2578.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This picture has nothing to do with anything, but I love it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm really not into dudes who talk about other chicks. I want to feel like he is excited to be there with me- even if he isn't. Just no sense in bringing up another girl, it's really unattractive and I know I am absolutely not alone in this sentiment. If he can't stop talking about her- go find a boy who wants to talk about you! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Happy dating! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-3864866998659681099?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/3864866998659681099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=3864866998659681099' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3864866998659681099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/3864866998659681099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-many-letters-so-little-time.html' title='So many letters, so little time.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sa75zJ2a-_I/AAAAAAAAAIw/dq4K5vu1va8/s72-c/kiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8833971590686052299</id><published>2009-03-03T12:09:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T12:27:49.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>K-I-S-S-I-N-G</title><content type='html'>Blogging has become one of my only vices. It really does get me through the day. Another critical element of my day I've needed to eliminate is Dr. Pepper. I've gained some weight and I don't like when my jeans are tight. So, water, the occasional Coke Zero, and gym slumming every night should get me back on track. Regardless of the actual numbers on the scale, working out just makes me feel good! I feel better about myself and it helps my brain be happy. Don't worry normal jeans...fat jeans will be gone soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I have a blind date. My friend Heather set me up. Normally in these situations I Facebook stalk them and already know the answers to questions I ask, not to mention what they look like. This time I've decided to be completely surprised. No idea who he is, or what he's about. I trust she didn't set me up with a murderer...so what's the worst that could happen? I know...lots of things. Going to be positive though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you realize that after Saturday night, or maybe even Friday (we'll see), I will be past letter Q?? This scares me a little. I really hoped to have not gotten through the entire alphabet of men, but looks like that's going to be the case. Oh how I miss being in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still working on things with &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/go-away-muffin-top.html"&gt;mystery guy&lt;/a&gt;. Not really pushing anything- just becoming friends. This one will be a slow process. At this point, I have nothing to lose and all the time in the world, so why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S, I have yet to kiss anyone this year of 2009. Miss that too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8833971590686052299?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8833971590686052299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8833971590686052299' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8833971590686052299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8833971590686052299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/k-i-s-s-i-n-g.html' title='K-I-S-S-I-N-G'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8184723322393054821</id><published>2009-03-02T13:55:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T15:15:11.834-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go away muffin top!</title><content type='html'>My weekend was much better than expected. I had a great dinner at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tucanos&lt;/span&gt; with my friend &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-i-went-to-bed-angry.html"&gt;Josh&lt;/a&gt;, then we watched a movie. It was the first time I had been able to really relax all week! I tried really hard to stay awake for the whole movie. Saturday morning I had breakfast with&lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/blah-blah-blah-im-so-cool.html"&gt; P&lt;/a&gt;, and I will say I had a wonderful time with intelligent conversation. People who actually have something to say are really hard to come by these days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I went to dinner and movie with my "brother" Jack. We saw Push- Jack hated it, but I didn't think it was that bad. Other than that I just relaxed and enjoyed my no work slash no school days. I hate how quickly those most coveted days goes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaxJwqwLgbI/AAAAAAAAAIY/g7mS_hIdYnk/s1600-h/n203000804_30777849_6396.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308699161221890482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaxJwqwLgbI/AAAAAAAAAIY/g7mS_hIdYnk/s320/n203000804_30777849_6396.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fam&lt;/span&gt;- Jack is the only Asian :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Today I accidentally slept in again on purpose (I did have a huge headache though!) so I didn't get up until 11- to get ready for my 1pm class. Turns out that class got cancelled! She didn't tell us until we got there...so that was kind of lame that I had to even go...just to turn around and leave and come to work early. No complaints though, none at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I hope to be able to focus more on socializing and meeting new people. I'm also looking forward to going to the gym everyday- the muffin top beginning to come in will in no way help my dating life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like this post has been less than exhilarating for you, but I hope to have fun things to write about soon! There is someone I'm looking forward to getting to know better....I'll be sure to post about any good or bad happenings in that area. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Hopefully your Monday has been as relaxing as mine! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8184723322393054821?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8184723322393054821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8184723322393054821' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8184723322393054821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8184723322393054821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/03/go-away-muffin-top.html' title='Go away muffin top!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaxJwqwLgbI/AAAAAAAAAIY/g7mS_hIdYnk/s72-c/n203000804_30777849_6396.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1337077885911998765</id><published>2009-02-27T15:30:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T16:00:35.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah blah blah, I'm so cool</title><content type='html'>It's been a great day. Nothing truly spectacular happened, but I've been completely productive every minute and will not feel guilty taking a nap after work. I even had the courage to talk to some people I didn't know today. And by talk I mean more than just say hi, like have a real conversation. Does everyone else in the world have no problems with this? Maybe I'm the only one that feels a little weird and kind of like a creeper for just going up and talking to someone. If I wasn't so self absorbed maybe I'd realize other people have those reservations as well ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I forgot to mention, and by forgot, I mean wasn't sure I wanted to post about- I'm having breakfast tomorrow with a boy. I've been out to lunch with him before, totally blew him off to hang out valentines day, but I've decided to stop being stupid and just be his friend. What do I have to lose ya know? He doesn't seem like my "type" as far as dating goes, but like I said in my last post, maybe I haven't even met my type...hence my singleness! So...yeah. I guess we can call him P. &lt;em&gt;(I looked forever for a post where I actually explain that I give letters to the boys I date instead of using their real names, but I couldn't find one! So....FYI...letters=boys...in case you're new :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally.... I know you've been on the edge of your seat waiting...a new &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Reason to Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;!:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;10. If he only talks about himself, he doesn't need to hang out with you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SahuWvxy6TI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mIVK7BhWys4/s1600-h/CopyofDSCF0293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307613497917630770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SahuWvxy6TI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mIVK7BhWys4/s320/CopyofDSCF0293.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I &lt;em&gt;hate&lt;/em&gt; when this happens. I try and get to know people when I'm out, but let's be honest, the easiest thing to talk about is ourselves because it's what we know. But at the least it's polite to let the other person talk for a second. I get bored when guys go on on on and on about their summer sales adventures (oh, stereotypes, you're the best). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Dating...and Happy Friday!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&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/1862330091666090133-1337077885911998765?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1337077885911998765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1337077885911998765' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1337077885911998765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1337077885911998765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/blah-blah-blah-im-so-cool.html' title='Blah blah blah, I&apos;m so cool'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SahuWvxy6TI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mIVK7BhWys4/s72-c/CopyofDSCF0293.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-5572944962015334749</id><published>2009-02-26T12:32:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T13:16:58.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Analyze THIS!</title><content type='html'>I've decided that every guy I see that doesn't check me out is gay. Probably a very very wrong assumption, but whatever gets me through the day right? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are continuing on a positive streak..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;feelin&lt;/span&gt; good friends. A little snag came today when I found out the average on part of my media law test was 65 and I got a 76 (awesome!) but I was really sad when I couldn't text &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning-sad.html"&gt;old best friend &lt;/a&gt;to tell him about it :( I know he would have told me how great and smart I am- and really, who wouldn't miss that. I miss talking to him and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; all day every day...miss the company. Still wounded from that but every day gets easier. Tear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking lately about how much I prejudge what may or may not happen with someone I'm interested in or is interested in me. I've discovered that I'm ridiculously analytical in all aspects of my life- relationships included. Sometimes I won't even give guys a chance because I'm too afraid of hurting them or getting hurt. This is not good. I don't want to live my life and make decisions out of fear! What the heck am I doing?! So we're going to work on taking a little different approach from now on. I remember &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-little-taste.html"&gt;ex # 2&lt;/a&gt; I wasn't quite fond of after our first date- but we ended up falling in love- how bout that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome alert: I will be spending my spring break here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sab2yCJsbNI/AAAAAAAAAII/E2ZvPRnxAYk/s1600-h/LasVegasSign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307200550334131410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sab2yCJsbNI/AAAAAAAAAII/E2ZvPRnxAYk/s320/LasVegasSign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't go to be the typical tourist or to get drunk and run around crazy- most of my Dad's side of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fam&lt;/span&gt; live here. I don't think I've been since August (WAY too long) so I'm super stoked to see everyone! Knowing this is coming will hopefully get me through these next couple weeks of life hating as a result of homework and hard tests. And my stupid job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to meet some new dating prospects. Any ideas how to go about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, me neither.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-5572944962015334749?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/5572944962015334749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=5572944962015334749' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5572944962015334749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/5572944962015334749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/analyze-this.html' title='Analyze THIS!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/Sab2yCJsbNI/AAAAAAAAAII/E2ZvPRnxAYk/s72-c/LasVegasSign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-4388119413327481805</id><published>2009-02-25T15:21:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T15:40:12.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, You're Cute! Let's Date!</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling good today. I've gotten a lot accomplished already so I'm feeling productive and that makes me happy. I still have so much to do, but it will be nice when it's done that it will be worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still have lingering angry feelings about &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning-sad.html"&gt;him&lt;/a&gt;, but I'm OK right now. Just trying to push those thoughts away. Time to be done with that. The only person it hurts is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was in class today, I was thinking that I'm a smart chick. Ha! I know it sounds weird, but I am. I feel like I have informed opinions and I'm educated and I do really well in school..I'm smart. Problem is, I think it can shy guys away sometimes. I think maybe my style can seem abrasive which may imply that I carry that over into relationships. And maybe I do. Who knows? I just wonder if this is something I should work on changing, or do I just say hey man, it's the way I am-I don't expect someone to change for me, why should I change for them? Hm. Don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaXH7hrWQ9I/AAAAAAAAAIA/t3LQL5Q5Yt4/s1600-h/smart_chick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306867561392391122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaXH7hrWQ9I/AAAAAAAAAIA/t3LQL5Q5Yt4/s320/smart_chick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinking about going dancing tomorrow, but I don't need any more tiredness which helps me justify skipping Friday morning class. Every morning I think about the consequences of not going. Used up my allotted absences in like the first month. Awesome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright, so nothing much else to report. Saw a cute boy today and totally wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't think of a way to say what up without looking like a crazy! It sucks we can't just walk up to people and start talking, but then again if people did that to me I think I would be angry. People are weird ;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will return to &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Reasons to Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; soon, promise. Also- I want to know who you are! So if you could be so kind as to publicly follow my blog I'd be eternally grateful- plus I want to read your blog! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy day before almost Friday! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-4388119413327481805?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/4388119413327481805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=4388119413327481805' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4388119413327481805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/4388119413327481805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/hi-youre-cute-lets-date.html' title='Hi, You&apos;re Cute! Let&apos;s Date!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaXH7hrWQ9I/AAAAAAAAAIA/t3LQL5Q5Yt4/s72-c/smart_chick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-383298214530656813</id><published>2009-02-24T12:05:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T12:16:27.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I went to bed angry</title><content type='html'>I couldn't sleep last night because my mind kept going back to the &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning-sad.html"&gt;picture incident&lt;/a&gt; and I kept feeling overcome with rage. It was ridiculous. I thought, if I can just fall asleep, I'll feel better in the morning and it wont be such a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today- I feel a little better. I'm still mad. I am. I feel like I was completely disrespected. There isn't much I can do to change the situation and I'm trying really hard to keep it out of my mind and move forward. That's good I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired today! I think because I thought it was a good idea to take a nap around 5 yesterday. I always think I have really good ideas and sometimes they're the worst ideas ever...like burning down my school. I don't think prison suits me. Although all I really need is Taco Bell, Dr. Pepper, and a TV, so I mean if that's what prison is like, sign me up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this Friday I'm going on a friend date with Josh. I'm sure I've written about him before. We dated like 3 years ago for like a second but decided we were better as friends. I like that he is cynical about life like me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaRGNEgdOiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/QoX_Sg9uHH0/s1600-h/n203000804_30055674_9957.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306443451311405602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaRGNEgdOiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/QoX_Sg9uHH0/s320/n203000804_30055674_9957.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here we are at Temple Square a couple years ago with my baby sister, who looks like our child. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I do feel like I have a more positive outlook on life today and I am confident and I can accomplish all my school &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;assignments&lt;/span&gt; without stressing too much *deep breaths, deep breaths*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Also, I'm really jealous the whole world- and by that I mean everyone in Utah county- is engaged and not me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bleh&lt;/span&gt;. Happy today though, I swear! :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-383298214530656813?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/383298214530656813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=383298214530656813' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/383298214530656813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/383298214530656813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-i-went-to-bed-angry.html' title='So I went to bed angry'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaRGNEgdOiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/QoX_Sg9uHH0/s72-c/n203000804_30055674_9957.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-8919162360407321895</id><published>2009-02-23T14:36:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T14:54:13.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning: Sad.</title><content type='html'>Every time something happens, I have a personal struggle about whether or not to blog. I want to open with my readers and myself but sometimes I just feel like I can't be made too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vulnerable&lt;/span&gt;. But today, I'm struggling to keep my head above water and need an outlet more than I ever have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost one of my best friends. Don't worry, he isn't dead or anything- but our friendship just had to end. I realized I had developed feelings for him and held on to some sort of hope that things with his (as I like to call her) pretend girlfriend would change. Yesterday he started talking about things getting more serious with her, and it felt like everything inside me started to crumble. I wanted to escape and run and run as far as I could but I knew no matter where I got feeling so helpless would follow. I tried to hold on but spent the night crying wishing things could have been different. I still do. I know this is inevitable. You can't be friends with boys who have girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wanted to text him so bad. Especially when I saw pictures &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2008/12/just-little-heart-broken.html"&gt;Nate&lt;/a&gt; posted on his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;. When dumped me, he kept emphasizing there was no one else- when I didn't even question whether or not there was. But I guess he felt like he needed to say that because guess what? There was. Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; faces are splashed in pictures that I never wanted to see. I deleted him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting here trying to breathe and just hold back tears that are ready to pour in endless streams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just took a break to compose....and back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just wondering how I'm going to get through it all. I'm exhausted physically anyway pretty much all of the time. I'm emotionally exhausted from all these things, and I still need to worry about staying on top of school- 2 midterms, press release, chapters to read, etc. and continue not getting fired from my job. I just feel like I can't do it. I know that I need to, and I know that I will...but today and right now I don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel alone today. And that makes me sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-8919162360407321895?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/8919162360407321895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=8919162360407321895' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8919162360407321895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/8919162360407321895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning-sad.html' title='Warning: Sad.'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-590989110276058128</id><published>2009-02-21T11:41:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T11:54:32.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The dance floor is my stage!</title><content type='html'>It's been too long...I shouldn't have left you...without a dope beat to step to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright so this week was ridiculous. I had a massive media law test I studied crazy for...and did mediocre. Um, dear grad school...I hope I get to see you one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say Thursday night was AMAZING! I went up with &lt;a href="http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/stupid-homework.html"&gt;friend from high school&lt;/a&gt; and a bunch of other peeps and hit up Studio 600- this sweet no alcohol dance club. It felt amazing! I really haven't been dancing like that since I was 18 and this was a completely different experience. It felt so good to move and to feel the music, but what I loved even more was the realization with how much more comfortable I am with myself. I rocked jeans, a t-shirt, and trainers and felt sexay. I remember feeling so self conscious and constantly worrying what other people were thinking and if I looked fat and blah blah. I didn't feel any of those things Thursday. I felt confident and that I could just dance and let go! I'm a good dancer, but I think before I was busy being so worried and I would hold back but that night I just did what I love and it was such a good feeling! Totally plan on doing that again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaBNhCxFbDI/AAAAAAAAAHw/rdP-xiXivpQ/s1600-h/kicks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305325591116213298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaBNhCxFbDI/AAAAAAAAAHw/rdP-xiXivpQ/s320/kicks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so stoked this week is over and that it's almost 12 and I'm laying bed blogging. No sweet plans for the night, but I'm sure I'll find something to do. If not, there's always those 2 midterm papers I need to write. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be back soon...promise promise! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-590989110276058128?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/590989110276058128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=590989110276058128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/590989110276058128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/590989110276058128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/dance-floor-is-my-stage.html' title='The dance floor is my stage!'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SaBNhCxFbDI/AAAAAAAAAHw/rdP-xiXivpQ/s72-c/kicks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6420985339312193452</id><published>2009-02-17T15:07:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T15:30:52.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Baby</title><content type='html'>As much as I love blogging about ridiculous stories involving my life, I will say it's nice for the waters to calm a little. Sometimes I forget I have the real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;responsibilities&lt;/span&gt; of life and have weekends where I pretend homework isn't waiting for me. And then I remember that I have a huge media law test this Friday and a part of my heart dies a little. Not going to lie, I'll probably end up eating my feelings! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mmmm&lt;/span&gt; I love sugar with a hint of saturated fat and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lonely&lt;/span&gt; for awhile. Not in a literal sense, as I am often surrounded by people all day every day. It's the feeling of a hollow body and feeling like no one you see or talk to has any idea who you are but wishing they did, or wishing anyone did. I do have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt; awesome life. No denying that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;fo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sho&lt;/span&gt;! I mean seriously, love my little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Passat&lt;/span&gt; I drive around (even though I wish someone would total it so I didn't have to keep making payments), I love learning and have the opportunity to be college educated, I have a nice room, a TV (the love of my life) and awesome people I can count on. Just needed to count my blessings...they are many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going lie, sometimes I feel like I want to stab someone. Today it's a lady I know whom I won't reveal, we'll just call her Spud. I love that she has no sense of personal space. She also looks like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZs6J-PcxlI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FUYdevnUD74/s1600-h/madtv_lorraine_02-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303896929159923282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZs6J-PcxlI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FUYdevnUD74/s320/madtv_lorraine_02-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZs3no4gQAI/AAAAAAAAAHY/E-FuUp2umes/s1600-h/madtv_lorraine_02-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In some ways she makes me laugh, but sometimes I think violent thoughts. I'm horrible.&lt;br /&gt;On the dating front: not much to report! I'm tempted to make up a boyfriend like George Glass. But then again, being single has its perks. Guess who bought herself some sweet stuff on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Sephora&lt;/span&gt; instead of having to buy some dude I'll probably break up with a Valentines Day present? Yup... me! Don't worry though, any new and exciting events I'll be sure to blog about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't think I forgot...today's &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reason to Run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;9. If he starts to get in your space (calling, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt;, calling some more...) he's probably a baby and those are no fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZs5yx1jm-I/AAAAAAAAAHg/pzQi5wclHNM/s1600-h/94.jpg"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303896530693102562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZs5yx1jm-I/AAAAAAAAAHg/pzQi5wclHNM/s320/94.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So real babies are fun, don't get me wrong. But, you don't want to date one. You need a guy who has his stuff together and can survive without you for a day! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Insecurities&lt;/span&gt; can ruin a relationship, so make sure he is stable enough to last a second without talking to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace, love, and of course...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Dating! &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/1862330091666090133-6420985339312193452?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6420985339312193452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6420985339312193452' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6420985339312193452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6420985339312193452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/man-baby.html' title='Man Baby'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZs6J-PcxlI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FUYdevnUD74/s72-c/madtv_lorraine_02-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-2867746861265369081</id><published>2009-02-16T14:41:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T16:47:55.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid homework...</title><content type='html'>Well, this weekend has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; been interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So..if you've been keeping up, I had a "date" on Friday. Was not a date. It ended up being the three of us, Me, friend from high school, and friend from high schools friend. To be honest, I ended up having more fun with friend from high school. I think he has changed for the better. The three of us actually ended up spending the entire weekend together. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Not gonna lie, kinda weird some of the time but I do enjoy the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much fun as it is to hang out though, that isn't exactly what I'm looking for. I want more than that. I still want to date casually, but dating and hanging out aren't the same. With hanging out there really is no expectation for anything to go beyond just that. With dating, I think both parties understand that you're trying them on. To me, boys will always be like shoes. Although I've had way more shoes that fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZnict-U3RI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/HXkDuojRidI/s1600-h/platform_shoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303519019210693906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZnict-U3RI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/HXkDuojRidI/s320/platform_shoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically I'll spend the next week doing homework. I like to think I have a little more self control than I do and that I use the weekends to do homework. But then I don't. I'll keep blogging, but I won't promise anything worth reading ;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Presidentos&lt;/span&gt; day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-2867746861265369081?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/2867746861265369081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=2867746861265369081' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2867746861265369081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/2867746861265369081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/stupid-homework.html' title='Stupid homework...'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZnict-U3RI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/HXkDuojRidI/s72-c/platform_shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-787449034736931446</id><published>2009-02-12T12:21:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T12:44:41.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you feel about orange jumpsuits?</title><content type='html'>Well, after a ridiculously drama filled week, I'm back. Feeling solid, so we're gold!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I went to Velour (a local small town band venue) to hear my cousins band &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/profile.php?id=1595681596&amp;amp;ref=ts"&gt;Green Like July&lt;/a&gt;. I'm always stoked on hearing their music, but what I didn't know is that they were opening so A. their set was like 15 minutes and B. it cost me 15 bucks to get in! A dollar a minute people! So basically it's like I called a 900 number to talk to some creepy robust woman. Ok, not that bad but still kind of a bummer. Sweet concert though. The 2 other bands rocked my socks so I'm not hatin. Saw some totally cute boys but not really my scene. Most of them looked high. To each their own right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so super random- remember last blog when I talked about meeting people in magic weird ways? WELL, last night I'm chillin and this friend guy I have (whom I have spoken to maybe twice in the last 6 years) instant messages me and wants to hook me up with his friend. So I checked him out on facebook (not stalking, just checking for normalcy) and he's cute and we have some of the same interests. So...tomorrow night I've got a "date." Again, not sure what's going to happen so will not call it an official date or do any letter christening until after the fact. Mostly excited to meet new people, only slightly nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reason to Run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;8. If he has any charges pending, don't even think about it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZR5lyO8qpI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Ax604-r8Z9c/s1600-h/86417-Jail-Cell-0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301996351368506002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZR5lyO8qpI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Ax604-r8Z9c/s320/86417-Jail-Cell-0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Totally happened to me. I find out this guy I was chillin with had pending charges for alleged kidnapping and sexual assault. Um, WHAT?! Yeah, peaced out of there real fast. Mostly likely this dude is kind of insane and could hurt you in more ways than one. So leave. Seriously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It feels a little odd to say it after that one.....but....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy dating! Ha &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862330091666090133-787449034736931446?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/787449034736931446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=787449034736931446' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/787449034736931446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/787449034736931446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-do-you-feel-about-orange-jumpsuits.html' title='How do you feel about orange jumpsuits?'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZR5lyO8qpI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Ax604-r8Z9c/s72-c/86417-Jail-Cell-0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-6508995942938923212</id><published>2009-02-10T18:41:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T19:01:50.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Table for 1</title><content type='html'>As I sit here waiting for American Idol, I finally have some time to relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from dropping off something at my ex's place. Zack. I wasn't sure how this would be, but turns out I've done a lot of growing up. What is funny is that he seems exactly the same. In talking to him I just realized the way I respond to him and the things that he does has changed so much. I am more patient. ME! More PATIENT! I know right?! I didn't feel any bitterness of vindictive feelings. It really was a pleasant experience and I'm just grateful to be able to see a change in myself. I know we all hope we change and become better people, but the only gauge we have is the mirror we see ourselves in from other people. Which clearly cannot always be reliable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think maybe sometimes people read this and think that I claim to be this great and awesome person and perfect at everything I think people should do. Nothing could be farther from the truth. It's ridiculous how many mistakes I make, knowingly and unknowingly. I just try my best to try my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever things start to slow down in my normally fast paced dating life, magically I meet some random person in an unexpected way. I'm waiting for the unexpected I guess :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reason to Run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;7. If he stands you up, or "forgets" you had plans, feel free to give him a second chance, but don't expect much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZIwvPUd2zI/AAAAAAAAAG4/cx8bA3_tIiI/s1600-h/42-16083476.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301353299492854578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZIwvPUd2zI/AAAAAAAAAG4/cx8bA3_tIiI/s320/42-16083476.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If it happens early on, better believe it will happen again. And guess what? It will probably happen often. We deserve a guy who can remember he has a super hot date and appreciate that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy dating!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S It's been a super horrible day. Send love my way!&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/1862330091666090133-6508995942938923212?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/6508995942938923212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=6508995942938923212' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6508995942938923212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/6508995942938923212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/table-for-1.html' title='Table for 1'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZIwvPUd2zI/AAAAAAAAAG4/cx8bA3_tIiI/s72-c/42-16083476.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862330091666090133.post-1142051370160881561</id><published>2009-02-09T15:35:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T15:58:26.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace and Love, Man</title><content type='html'>I HATE myself for not having time to update!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so this weekend: good, but not great. I actually ended up hanging out with O, but to be honest it was more frustrating than anything for me. It's clear that he has some lingering feelings about another chick. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that. No matter how horrible the other person is, or how bad they treat you in the end, you can't just turn off those feelings like a faucet. You need to time to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;recuperate&lt;/span&gt; and put pieces of your broken heart back together. I get it. I've been there. My request is just for people to take care of those problems first. I've totally jumped into relationships WAY too soon after some of my most serious ones ended and it was absolutely the wrong thing to do. I think parts of us will always be with them, but if you are still wishing and hoping and thinking every day about them- that needs to be dealt with before you move to someone else. I'm down to be friends...but that means exactly that! Be my friend! I think sometimes guys are freaked out about sending wrong signals, but that wouldnt be a problem if you just talked about it right? Yes Bailey, you're so smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just realized that I don't want to be a poor man's Ashley, or a poor man's Brittany, or a poor man's Megan, etc. I want someone to appreciate ME, and I think it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to want that. I know I've learned from doing that to people in my past. They didn't deserve for my thoughts to linger on someone else when I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;committed&lt;/span&gt; to that relationship. I will try my best not to do that to anyone, and I hope for the same in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I want the most right now is just to have drama free relationships. And I mean relationships in any capacity, not just romantic. I want to have open and honest communication without making such a huge big deal about everything. It's possible! I know it is! So current and future friends, I'll do my best to be chill if you promise too :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll get back to &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reasons to Run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow. Have a lovely Monday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZC0RIUwnmI/AAAAAAAAAGw/iJY0w7MEGQg/s1600-h/AllYouNeedIsLove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300934967800405602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZC0RIUwnmI/AAAAAAAAAGw/iJY0w7MEGQg/s320/AllYouNeedIsLove.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/1862330091666090133-1142051370160881561?l=singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/feeds/1142051370160881561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862330091666090133&amp;postID=1142051370160881561' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1142051370160881561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862330091666090133/posts/default/1142051370160881561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://singleinmycity-bailey.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-hate-myself-for-not-having-time-to.html' title='Peace and Love, Man'/><author><name>Bailey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04015144143119760444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SX5bcHfxLDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/uIuCQsc7IM4/S220/n203000804_30629161_1692.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jGqAm2yOLMM/SZC0RIUwnmI/AAAAAAAAAGw/iJY0w7MEGQg/s72-c/AllYouNeedIsLove.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
