<?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-3610601959266713116</id><updated>2012-02-08T15:40:11.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alesa</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>868</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7810826821077953382</id><published>2012-02-07T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T20:43:56.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Toronto?</title><content type='html'>So, a week without my parents was a blessing. I wish they were gone for another week, but unfortunately everything has to come to an end. I left a bit early before their flight arrived so that I could enjoy some time at the airport. My heart always races in excitment when I see those beautiful beasts called airplanes. My dad had called and said their flight had landed much earlier than expected, so I unfortunately didn&amp;#39;t get a chance to roam around the place :( I&amp;#39;ll take a trip there one day though. My parents reeked like the Carribean though. One thing I wasn&amp;#39;t looking forward to is them seeing my repainted room. Every guest I had over for the past week really like it. But the look on my mums face was expressionless, she was disgusted by the colour. My dad thinks it&amp;#39;s too dark of a brown but doesn&amp;#39;t seem to mind as much as my mum. She got really upset and yelled at me for being so impatient. Waiting for 8 years to repaint my room from the ugly light blue, of course I&amp;#39;m getting impatient! I knew she&amp;#39;d want to do a pastel colour which is gross, &amp;amp; it&amp;#39;s my room so I get to choose. &lt;br&gt;I really felt like crying, first day the parentals come back &amp;amp; I&amp;#39;m already getting yelled at. We don&amp;#39;t have a good bond at all, the only thing they&amp;#39;re good at is yelling and blaming me for anything. I hope they&amp;#39;ll respect me a bit more when I move out unmarried &amp;amp; not be asking them for money unlike my sibiling, even when shes married! I don&amp;#39;t want to keep in touch with my parents when I move on too. No more yelling, nothing. &lt;br&gt;Moving on before I flip this tabel, last week when I went to Bible Study, the pastor wanted to talk to me. I was honest with him when he asked how I&amp;#39;ve been, I told him I was doing no good. My addiction had taken over my soul even more, near the point of no return to Jesus. I ended up talking to a girl who specializes in people who had such problem as mine. It made me sick at far I&amp;#39;ve gone from my faith in God. The pastor gave me a book that would help me a lot in overcoming my issue. I was hooked after reading the first chapter, it&amp;#39;s truely mind boggling. It talked about why God doesn&amp;#39;t automatically answer to peoples problems. One part was sad cause there was one unchristian girl with a guy who tempted in having sex when she&amp;#39;s never had before. She went to the bathroom &amp;amp; quickly prayed to God to stop him from making her sleep with him. If He answered she would believe, but He didn&amp;#39;t answer. She ended up sleeping with the fellow and pretty much refuses there&amp;#39;s God. This made me upset because you can&amp;#39;t blame God for all your problems, she should have been smarter than that. She should have stood up for herself than counted on God to magically make the guy not sleep with her. She&amp;#39;s an idiot, and she won&amp;#39;t be saved cause of her inability to accept Jesus as her saviour. I tell guys I will not go &amp;#39;all the way&amp;#39; with them because I know how much it would upset me, my future husband, &amp;amp; my creator. I mean the things I&amp;#39;ve done are bad as it is but not something that&amp;#39;d scar me for life. I have been feeling better though, not doing the things I used to do. My next step is to just get back on the right path. &lt;br&gt;When I get a job, I want to save money for another solo trip somewhere. I was originally thinking Seattle but I honestly always go there. I mean me an my homegirl Seattle be real tight, but I have the need to visit other places as well. So my next destination was San Fransisco, to go visit my dads cousin. I don&amp;#39;t like him much, but I know he&amp;#39;d take me flying around San Fran and just take me places. &lt;br&gt;As time went by though, I remembered that I have family in Toronto whom I&amp;#39;ve never met. I&amp;#39;ve met all my mums sibilings, even in Ukraine, but barely any of my dads. I&amp;#39;ve done a lot of research in my Tourism+Travel on Toronto so I&amp;#39;m very familiar with a lot of their places, I just have yet to see em. As I was driving my parents home, I brought it up to my dad and he highly suggests I go! He said they don&amp;#39;t drive so I&amp;#39;ll have to rent a car if I wanted to. Apparantly they&amp;#39;re that populated where there&amp;#39;s a lot of public transportation they use instead. There is my aunt (dads sister) Natasha, her husband Arkadi (such a kickass name!?), &amp;amp; their 23 year old daughter Galya. Their daughter moved out but I was told their house is rather small, but there&amp;#39;s still room to sleep. My penpal from England wants to meet up there too which would be so awesome, words could not describe. My dad suggested I drive to Niagra Falls too, which I&amp;#39;m not crazy about seeing but if it&amp;#39;ll only be an hour away, I don&amp;#39;t see why not.&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll probably feel awkward being with family I&amp;#39;ve never spoken to before though. I hope their somewhat cool and nice. I&amp;#39;ll only be there in the morning &amp;amp; night though cause I want to do a lot of site seeing and sit at cafes. I&amp;#39;m really looking forward to it though, Toronto has been on my list of places to visit for so long including many others. &lt;br&gt;My parents bought me a real pearl necklace with gold, which I personally didn&amp;#39;t like. It&amp;#39;s not because I&amp;#39;m picky, it&amp;#39;s just something I wouldn&amp;#39;t wear. They might just give it to my sister. They also got me a Mystic Topaz ring, earing, &amp;amp; necklace charm. That&amp;#39;s something I&amp;#39;d wear more often. I did some research on Mystic Topazes cause I was curious to know how it got it&amp;#39;s natural rainbow effect. It also had some other neat info which resembels myself like:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Topaz is known as the stone of Jupiter. It represents rule over one&amp;#39;s own life, self-realization and wisdom.&lt;br&gt;Topaz gently opens the throat and third eye chakras, making communication easier and more effective.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Well I don&amp;#39;t believe I completely rule over my life, I know What is Mine is Gods.And that second half made me giggle cause that&amp;#39;s what I learned about in Yoga. It&amp;#39;s really neat. &lt;br&gt;On with my scrambled life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7810826821077953382?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7810826821077953382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7810826821077953382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7810826821077953382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7810826821077953382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/02/toronto.html' title='Toronto?'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4787779918827952335</id><published>2012-02-03T13:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T13:06:44.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold Snap</title><content type='html'>So,apparently Europe is really struggling with cold weather right now,more on the Eastern side of my parents' homeland of Ukraine. I saw this picture of a girl walking through Kiev, I think it's stunning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://l.yimg.com/bt/api/res/1.2/fsA2OtGy5mYEoEwu0I_2Ow--/YXBwaWQ9eW5ld3M7Zmk9aW5zZXQ7aD00NzQ7cT04NTt3PTYzMA--/http://media.zenfs.com/en_us/News/afp.com/000_Par6826634.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4787779918827952335?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4787779918827952335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4787779918827952335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4787779918827952335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4787779918827952335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/02/cold-snap.html' title='Cold Snap'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4205124230614109328</id><published>2012-02-02T00:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T15:40:11.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Downtown Sunday/Penpal</title><content type='html'>So,after Sunday service at my Portland church (which was awesome) I went to the meeting about the Easter musical we'll be doing. It will consist of a lot of driving there but I think I'll try my best to make it everytime. I wasn't sure if I wanted to drive to downtown Portland because it was pouring rain outside &amp;amp; I know how much my flimsy car can't handle driving in heavy rain. I decided to go just cause I wouldn't be able to again soon. It was one scary ride but thankfully I survived! I went to the only Starbucks I go there which is the one at Pioneer Square. I like sitting inside and watch people walking through the busy streets, both normal and really weird people. Portland is known to have a lot of weird people, which I think belong to the Oregon Mental Hospital but whatever. A mate from our electro dance team saw that I was in Portland and had invited me over to his university where they were going to simply practice dancing electro. I rarely get to see people electro dance in person so of course I just had to go. Plus there's a dancer I met years ago online who moved to Portland not long ago so I definitely had to meet him as well. The dance studio was on the upper levels of the university, which I've never been in to and the views were so nice. I didn't dance much considering my abilities of doing so had faded but it was such a blessing to see how well they dance. I remember how much they used to suck like me years ago but they have improved so much it makes me smile. After that was over I went to the parking garage I was parked at. I drove down to the ticket booth where you have to pay for your stay at the parking garage. There was a fellow waiting in front of the gate, &amp;amp; he turned his car off. I was confused and walked up to him, apparantly the ticket attendant left a note that he was at the bathroom so the fellow was just waiting. I went back in my car and waited too. Minutes and minutes went by and there was still no sign of the ticket attendant. You can't leave without him because there is no one else who can open the gate. The man in front of me began to honk. I was confused as to who he was honking to but I started to notice he became outraged. He honked more and started cussing hardcore out the window. I was so frightened, I was scared he was gonna get out of his car and start smashing the booth or possibly drive through the gate. Cars started pilling behind me, I got out to tell them the attendant was at the bathroom. Some random citizen came to the gate cause he noticed the guy in front was going mad, so he lifted the gate for him. He lifted it for me too so thankfully I got to leave finally. After I drove off though, cops began to show up. I got out of there as fast as I could! The drive home was probably the scariest I've ever had too. It was dark, foggy, and still pouring rain. I could not see anything and just kept my wheel straight. It was an absolutely dreadful drive, but survived it too. &lt;br /&gt;Since my parents have been gone, I've been hanging around a lot and many people have been inviting me over for food. Makes me think my parents should leave more often:)&lt;br /&gt;Some fellow randomly posted on one of my old posts about a poncho I'd really want to find similar to it or perhaps make one for myself. Apparantly he's made some stuff himself and wanted to make a similar poncho as well, so we threw some ideas on what kind of material might have been used and what not. He's a fellow from England which I have met many but he sounded really cool, let alone handsome! We decided to Skype to make it easier to share ideas to use on making the poncho instead of having to type it all out. We ended up talking for hours on the most randomest stuff, it was so awesome! Of course American girls are head over heels over guys with English accents so I can listen to him talk for days if I could. We gave each other a tour of our house and outside, though I couldn't see much of his so well since it was dark out there considering our different time zones. It was so cool, we decided to be real penpals too which I have wanted one for so long. I remember blogging bout having one but it was only an e-mail penpal who didn't last 2 days. I'm so excited to send him candy and just random stuff! And to get little nibs and nobs from England too, so excited. He might be reading this and laughing and/or is slightly embarrassed at the fact there's someone writing about him but I can't help but share how excited I am to have an awesome penpal such as himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4205124230614109328?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4205124230614109328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4205124230614109328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4205124230614109328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4205124230614109328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/02/downtown-sundaypenpal.html' title='Downtown Sunday/Penpal'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-939215468587186611</id><published>2012-01-28T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T22:45:17.852-08:00</updated><title type='text'>8 years</title><content type='html'>So, I was laying in bed &amp;amp; Tweeting my Twitter friends and felt this little moment of pure joy. It almost made me tear up cause I havn&amp;#39;t felt like that in so long. Some of my Twitter friends can really make my day. I was waiting to take my parents to the airport. They are the most stressful and worst travelers ever. They always yell during their last minute packing and freaking out, making sure they got everything. Than if like the smallest accident happens like the knob of a sweater zipper breaks off, they flip tabels. When my parents are stressed, I get stressed as well because they are on full annoyance mode. That&amp;#39;s why I was resting in bed as I waited for them to get done having their yelling session and finally head to the airport. I loveeee the airport!! Love watching those beautiful man made machines called airplanes flying in and out of the sky. I helped them get checked in and off they went. They went on another cruise to the Carribean for a week. Why didn&amp;#39;t they take me, well they really don&amp;#39;t anymore. It really sucks yea but that&amp;#39;s why I get to go on vacations alone. Plus a week without my parents is really nice. I walked around the airport a bit, it was about 21:30 and it was empty! A lot of the shops were closed too as well, but I did get Jamba Juice though it was too cold for that. I sat at the tables next to large windows facing the airplanes. Walked a bit more and into a shop where I found an awesome Flight Attendant (immitation) Barbie that I just had to get! I saw a few pilots that I wish I spoked to but they rush out of the airport like there is no tomorrow. I&amp;#39;d feel the same way too if I flew as much as they did, you just want to go sleep at the end of the night. &lt;br&gt;Drove home, was kind of scared to be home alone all of a sudden but got passed it quick. &lt;br&gt;The next morning I had to go to Lamb Elementary for their multicultural fair, to represent Ukraine. I made a board with Uki facts, wore my Uki outfit, &amp;amp; passed out Шипучки. Some of the kids came across as annoying to me but some were splendid. The councelor of the school is my aunts neighbour, is how I was asked to be part of their event. My aunts other neighbours were there too (Japanese, English, &amp;amp; Indian). My favourite were the English couple, the grandpa could not stop talking to me! I was told he loves company though, &amp;amp; has invited me for tea sometime. Love their accents of course. Went home, than began to stress out. Me &amp;amp; my crush had reschedualed our coffee date to Saturday morning, since he didn&amp;#39;t think I was serious the first time I asked him out for coffee so he didn&amp;#39;t show up. He wasn&amp;#39;t replying to my text to make sure we were still on for Saturday morning. I began to stress out because I am putting so much effort into him, and I&amp;#39;m not getting anything in return. It upsets me. &lt;br&gt;I went to my Portland church to which I havn&amp;#39;t been to in so long and miss so dearly. I went to their Light Cafe which they have every last Friday of the month. It wasn&amp;#39;t advertised online that there was gonna be one so I was worried I&amp;#39;d show up with no one there, but there was. There were barely any people and there was nothing organized. It was just thrown together at last minute. There was no where to sit either so I stood against the wall near the entrance for the whole time. I  got a lil crowd of friends goin around me though so it was great. I have missed seeing them all. The worship team took a break from playing and let some guests sing. The lead gal of the worship team approached me &amp;amp; our friend, she said she saw my electro dance videos. I was so embarrassed and shocked she somehow came across them. She&amp;#39;s the singer in the Imprint group too, so I was confused on how these people see my lame videos! She said they were really good, &amp;amp; that they are planning on doing a play that consists of dancing (not electro) &amp;amp; has asked me to be a part of it. Heck yes!! She knows I live rather far, but I am totally down for doing this! We exchanged numbers and are having our first meeting Sunday after church service. I&amp;#39;m excited! &lt;br&gt;Saturday morning came, with no sign of any date to happen. I honestly knew it wouldn&amp;#39;t happen in the 1st place. I wanted to say No when he had asked to go Saturday morning instead but said Yes instead so that when I see him, he can be embarrassed. I went to downtown by myself, enjoyed some Starbucks and shopping at boutiques and the mall. It was pretty chill but made me more stressed from all the shopping. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve been so not myself lately, &amp;amp; it&amp;#39;s not all just about my crush. With my parents gone, some people just won&amp;#39;t stop annoying me or leaving me alone. I just want to take a break from everyone. I havn&amp;#39;t felt this depressed in 8 years...I know the cure, but havn&amp;#39;t had the motivation to take it in a while.&lt;br&gt;Looking forward to sunday service &amp;amp; play meeting at my Portland church, &amp;amp; just want to ignore everyone who bugs me (if ever so possible).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-939215468587186611?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/939215468587186611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=939215468587186611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/939215468587186611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/939215468587186611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/8-years.html' title='8 years'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5722703860395201007</id><published>2012-01-24T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T17:21:37.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Denied</title><content type='html'>So, as stated in my previous post, many of my friends (&amp;amp; lovely Twitter friends) helped me build the courage to ask my crush out to coffee. This took about a week &amp;amp; a half, the day I wanted to ask I got really sick and had to go to the doctor. I patiently waited and waited, for the day and time to finally see him again. I was in the work out room and saw him pass the door. I dropped everything and went after him, well I jogged passed him once than second time around he turned back and smiled cause he knew I was coming. I stopped and joined him and his friend (who I know as well) on their walk as they killed time before class. The friend eventually left so it was just me and him walking, and the only thing that was going through my mind is quickly asking him. But than his other friend joined our little walk and I lost hope in asking, than we got with a group of his friends waiting for class to start. I didn't want to ask in front of his friends, but my mate had told me that asking in front of a group just shows how much confidence you have which is what guys are really attracted to. So, I asked, and he responded with the warmest smile and a "Yes". He said he would text me during or after class. The few hours I had to wait were so gruesome, I was so nervous and excited. I was hanging out with my friends and they were excited for me as well, and than the time finally came though he hadn't text me yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20015144/tumblr_lvqoa4FV7y1qcn13do1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="308" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20015144/tumblr_lvqoa4FV7y1qcn13do1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His class got out and I was waiting in our school cafe where I told him I'd be, and bought two white mochas all ready on the table. 10 minutes had gone by and there was no sign of him yet, I figured he was catching up with friends or something. 20 minutes went by, still no sign of him, and his coffee was getting cold. I figured they had to stay after class but that never happens really. I got his coffee warmed up again, as 30 minutes had gone by with no sign of him. I texted him asking where he was...he replied with "home".&lt;br /&gt;I felt and heard my heart break.It felt like someone put heavy weights on my shoulders, and I had to drag my body home. I had to break the news to all my friends, and they all wanted to kick his ass. I wrote that if he didn't want coffee, he coulda just said so. He apologized but I was not convinced at all.&lt;br /&gt;It was so hard for me to ask him his name, so hard to talk to him first, so hard to ask him out...and all for nothing in the end. I sure learned my lesson, to never ask a guy out again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5722703860395201007?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5722703860395201007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5722703860395201007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5722703860395201007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5722703860395201007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/denied.html' title='Denied'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2349065262963291265</id><published>2012-01-19T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T23:02:39.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funniest Convo Ever</title><content type='html'>Me and two of my mates (one I just met) giving me advice on how to ask my crush out to coffee. Hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed autostart="false" height="50" src="http://205.196.121.140/darsafaavo1g/l2vi5n4pgvm8wp9/govcup.m4a" width="250"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2349065262963291265?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2349065262963291265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2349065262963291265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2349065262963291265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2349065262963291265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/funniest-convo-ever_19.html' title='Funniest Convo Ever'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5041238870440116781</id><published>2012-01-18T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T22:31:21.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeay Constipation</title><content type='html'>So, this is a rather embarrassing subject but what else is there to talk about really. Last week I had the worst sickness in the world! First time being constipated and boy did it suck. I bought and took medicine that kicked in in the middle of the night. I felt like I was getting stabbed. I crawled to the bathroom and sat on the toilet but there was nothing. I felt myself getting a really high fever and almost fainted in the bathroom. I wanted to throw up so bad as well. I went back to bed, grasping on my bed in pain. I couldn&amp;#39;t even cry it hurt that much. I went to the bathroom one more time, &amp;amp; finally felt relieved. &lt;br&gt;I felt much better, and for some odd reason I was eating a lot. I mean a lot of nasty processed food like pizza and chicken bake. But it was all so yummy and scrumptious. After a week had gone by, I realized I havn&amp;#39;t done #2 in the bathroom the whole week either. I felt fine though, I didn&amp;#39;t have horrific pain like I did when I was truely constipated. Though the cramps were kicking in and it slowly started to get worse. I told my mum and of course, she flipped! She made me go to the doctor which I hate going with her cause she can just be such a bigger pain. She always does the talking for me which is stupid cause I&amp;#39;m the one who really knows whats going down. Anywho, this really tall cute male nurse comes out and calls my name. Grr why do I have to get the cute guy when I have an embarrassing situation. He was in fact Russian, he figured we spoke Russian by our last name. I stood on the scale and said &amp;quot;how embarrassing&amp;quot;. He said my weight is perfect for my height &amp;amp; age but that&amp;#39;s not what I meant, I clarified that the fact that hes a young Russian nurse, is what sucks. Cause I can already see in my mums eyes that she just wants to flirt with him and try hooking us up which was not gonna happen. I do regret not slipping my number to him though, he was a real gent. They prescribed me some strong medicine to make me go to the bathroom. I had to drink 3/4 of this medium sized bottle which tasted kinda nasty, but I chugged it down to get it over with. Like a boss. Two minutes passed and I was running to the bathroom! It kicked in almost automatically. Another moment of relief.&lt;br&gt;I went to Outward Church which I miss and havn&amp;#39;t been to in a while. They were streaming an event from Mars Hill Church in Seattle. The topic was about porn and they were gonna interview an ex porn star. I really needed to go to this. When the streaming started, it was lagging so bad. It kept skipping and pausing. I texted my friends in Washington who said they were getting the same lag too. It was because there were too many people streaming it and that it was backing up the Mars Hills streaming service. We unfortunately had to end that fast and hopefully come back when it&amp;#39;s recorded and available to show another time. I went to Gov Cup and saw my mate and so we caught up on life. His mate joined us who is an oober funny guy. They gave me really good advice on how to ask my crush out to coffee. I&amp;#39;m still really nervous about it. Apparantly guys really dig confident girls so I&amp;#39;ll just have to do my best. We talked and laughed for a few hours until the shop closed. It was a really good way to end my night. It just makes me more happy to be hanging out with real friends in person than on that stupid Facebook. &lt;br&gt;Time to pig out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5041238870440116781?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5041238870440116781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5041238870440116781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5041238870440116781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5041238870440116781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/yeay-constipation.html' title='Yeay Constipation'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6252590511271875943</id><published>2012-01-16T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T20:24:10.447-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't stop dazing at this photo</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.ffffound.com/static-data/assets/6/cbc1cd3747604e37ad54554f4e4c4716fda98de2_m.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-6252590511271875943?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6252590511271875943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6252590511271875943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6252590511271875943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6252590511271875943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/cant-stop-dazing-at-this-photo.html' title='Can&apos;t stop dazing at this photo'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5738401135356317153</id><published>2012-01-15T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T11:03:29.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crappy Ski Trip</title><content type='html'>So, rarely do we ever drive to Mt.Hood to go skiing for just the day. We always stay at cabins, but this time we decided just to do a day trip there. It may seem long to go skiing for hours but it goes by really fast because of how slow the lift takes to go up. It&amp;#39;s like Baseball, the ball is only in the field %5 of the game when the game can take hours. It was snowing bad and the only spare goggles we had were really big on me. I decided to go down without them and it felt like the snow was trying to poke my eyes out, it hurt so bad!! So I waited in the warming hut on top of the mountain to have my dad bring those big goggles over. They didn&amp;#39;t help either, they fogged up so bad and kept slipping. I felt like I was skiing blind either way. It wasn&amp;#39;t like powdery sticky snow fall either, it was like little ice flakes that hurt so bad when they hit you on the face if you weren&amp;#39;t wearing a ski mask. I wasn&amp;#39;t wearing one because my breath would go up the mask and fog up my goggles even more. Later that day soft snow began to fall, which made the slopes so thick of powder that you rode 2mph down the hill. Not to mention the super strong wind that kept pushing you back. It was one ski trip I won&amp;#39;t forget. I definitely need to buy good headphones for skiing, goggles, and a warm helmet. &lt;br&gt;My friend was driving with us back home and oh man, the conversations we had!! Boys Boys Boys Boyssss! We were talkin bout the guys we like, our past relationship, and how crazy guys can make girls just by their little or big actions. We get so excited when we hang out with them, but so so upset when they don&amp;#39;t reply to a small text. We were laughing at how true everything was about how we really are bipolar and emotional over guys we like. One thing that we brought up and kind of made me sad is how random guys (or even girls) randomly leave a friendship. I&amp;#39;ve had two really really close buddies, who at of no where would sweep me off their life just like that. Either by randomly avoiding me or simply saying they didn&amp;#39;t want to talk anymore. It&amp;#39;s sad because now I&amp;#39;ve kind of grew in that habbit of getting so close to someone, to simply sweeping them off my life because they start annoying me or who knows for what reason. They always write me how they hate when they loose a friend especially me and how much they miss me, when all I&amp;#39;m thinking is &amp;#39;We were never real friends...leave me alone now&amp;#39;. But some just won&amp;#39;t let me go. It sounds really cruel but if people do that to me, why is it wrong to do it to others? That&amp;#39;s unfair, just because I&amp;#39;m not a guy doesn&amp;#39;t mean I have to keep &amp;#39;friendships&amp;#39; I don&amp;#39;t want. &lt;br&gt;When I went to sleep, all I could see is snow splashing at my face. I woke up, looked out my bedroom window, and saw snow falling. I swear it likes to haunt me sometimes. I&amp;#39;m glad I don&amp;#39;t have my Facebook cause I can already imagine all the annoying kids freaking out about a few snow flakes falling from the sky. It never snows in our city, but if you want to see snow that bad, go to the mountains -_-*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5738401135356317153?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5738401135356317153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5738401135356317153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5738401135356317153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5738401135356317153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/crappy-ski-trip.html' title='Crappy Ski Trip'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2314489772084600846</id><published>2012-01-08T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:28:38.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slavic Christmas 2012</title><content type='html'>So, Slavic Christmas is on Jan.7th. It&amp;#39;s weird how Dec.25th for Ukrainians is just any other day, but Jan.7th is a holiday, Christmas to be exact. In the morning I went to my dads Orthodox church which was a really good service. I asked my dad why they celebrated it on the 7th of January, he said back then there was a different calendar. There&amp;#39;s the Grigorian calendar &amp;amp; the Julian calendar. They celebrate Christmas on the Grigorian calendar but New Years and about everything else on the Julian calendar, which is what most of the world uses. It gets me thinking &amp;amp; knowing the fact that no one really knows when Jesus was born. We celebrate both the American &amp;amp; Ukrainian Christmas&amp;#39;, though that doesn&amp;#39;t mean I get double the gifts unfortunately. Later we went to our family friends house to celebrate which was super chill, I think Easter there was funner cause we danced &amp;amp; it was overall crazy good. This time there were a bunch of annoying little kids that like to grab onto you &amp;amp; never let go. Kids like that really get on my nerves even if I&amp;#39;m trying to be playful. They let me know I don&amp;#39;t want no kids! For some odd reason I was really hungry, but thankfully they had more bite sized food than full meals or else I&amp;#39;d be so fat right now. We were there for 7 hours but it went by super quick! &lt;br&gt;All in all it was a good day:)&lt;br&gt;Merry Christmas! (to all whom it applies)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2314489772084600846?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2314489772084600846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2314489772084600846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2314489772084600846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2314489772084600846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/slavic-christmas-2012.html' title='Slavic Christmas 2012'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7734662788578956411</id><published>2012-01-04T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T22:06:33.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Close Call</title><content type='html'>So, now that Winter break is over, it's time for job hunting once again. I applied to this one restaurant that is hiring for a dishwasher person, you have no idea how much I want to work there! It's the restaurant at our city airport, I remember asking if they were a hiring a long time ago but their kind of strict and quiet about that stuff? They said that they only post an ad online if they were hiring, you can't call or walk-in about it. Either way I applied and reallllly hope I get hired, I'd love to work with airplanes right outside the glass wall! And all the local Starbucks' are hiring too so of course I applied to all of them for the hundredth time. Still gotta go around to turn in applications though.&lt;br /&gt;I went to ECHS to check-out my college text books. I went to the school counselors office just to make sure I don't need this Science credit they recently added to the list. They said I needed it, than didn't, than I did. I was pissed and confused because they shouldn't make 5th year students take extra classes because the state randomly required it now. He said that I do not need to take it, and that all I had left was a Social Science credit...Wait What!?!?!?!!? I said I took Human Evolution last term as my last class for my High School Diploma which was a Social Science credit! He said he believes that was just an elective. My heart dropped to the floor, to think that I took such a stupid class for no reason? We doubled checked with the lady who's in charge of keeping track of all the students' credits and what not. It was in fact a mistake she missed, and saw that it actually was a Social Science class and not an elective so she fixed it. The thought of finally being done with the High School part brought me a lot of joy, now I'm able to freely focus on my Hospitality &amp;amp; Tourism Management classes. It's great news to start off the year with, but now I'm patiently waiting for greater news about getting hired somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7734662788578956411?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7734662788578956411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7734662788578956411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7734662788578956411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7734662788578956411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/close-call.html' title='Close Call'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7542820985240450551</id><published>2012-01-03T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T22:24:15.559-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years 2012!</title><content type='html'>So, &lt;br&gt;Dec.31-We loaded the car with all our stuff, met up with all the others, than headed off to Sunriver to celebrate the New Years. I was a bit nervous cause I was worried I wouldn&amp;#39;t like it at all, and thought of all that money spent on it going down the drain. My little cousin ended up going too, me &amp;amp; him are close so I knew I&amp;#39;d have some fun with him. Last time I was at Sunriver was years ago, it&amp;#39;s near Bend which is in central Oregon. It&amp;#39;s a very far drive, through the forest and over the mountains. I&amp;#39;ve always kind of liked the city of Bend, the landscape &amp;amp; climate is so different cause it&amp;#39;s on the other side of the Cascade Mountains. Because it&amp;#39;s on the other side, they get a lot of snow in the winter and super hot weather in the summer unlike us where it always rains. We went to the small shops at Sunriver while we waited for the cleaning crew to be done cleaning the cabin we were staying at. When they were done, we finally arrived and settled into our big and cozy cabin! I was hoping to have my own bunk bed but apparantly they were all taken by the guys and I was placed in a king bed with 3 other girls. Sleeping in one bed with that many people? Heck no, so I slept on this large cozy couch by the fire place which was so much better. We ate, played lots of games (did I mention I havn&amp;#39;t laughed that much and that hard for so long!), &amp;amp; it was finally time to count down the New Year! I can&amp;#39;t believe it&amp;#39;s 2012 already, it&amp;#39;s gonna be something else. I went to the jacuzzi for a bit and hung around, and finally passed out at 05:00. &lt;br&gt;Jan.1-Woke up and went skiing! The last time I did anything at Mt.Bachelor was when I was a tiny kid. They have this rather small steep hill you could ride for free though which is what I did. I thought it was cool they had a free hill, cause you have to pay for the baby hill at Skibowl which is way smaller than Mt.Bachelors free &amp;#39;baby&amp;#39; hill. The snow was perfect, lots of powder to ride down without a problem. When I was going up the lift, I saw a guy going down the hill with a girl holding on to a pole he was holding on to. She was blind. I&amp;#39;ve never seen a blind girl ski and it brought a tear to my eye. The fact that being blind won&amp;#39;t stop her from doing great things such as skiing was amazing. I looked around at the beautiful scenery and was thankful to have perfect sight to see it all. &lt;br&gt;The rest of the day we just watched movies, played games, &amp;amp; jacuzzied all night long. &lt;br&gt;Jan.2-One thing I realized in the morning is that the very first week of the year always goes by the fastest. I went for a long walk through the neighbourhood. I didn&amp;#39;t get through it all cause the neighbourhood is huge. Love walking through a snowy path surrounded by trees and sunshine. I thab went tubbing at Mt.Bachelor which was a blast. The unfortunate part about that mountain is that they close at 16:00 cause they don&amp;#39;t have lights on the slopes. Skibowl is known to be the largest night skiing place in America cause they have lights which is why they&amp;#39;re open till 22:00. The tube hill at Mt.Bachelor is so big too, an super fast! And the tickets are half the price of Skibowls tubbing hill which is small. It was hard for me to breath going down sometimes cause it feels exactly like sticking your head out the car while driving. Got to the cabin and did the usual such as eat and play board games. It was dark out and me and two other people went bike riding! The snow had melted a lot on the path so there were only ice patches that were kind of rough to ride on. It was hard to see though cause there were no street lights, but the bright beautiful moon helped a lot. I had such a freakin blast, never had I done such a thing before! I was literally smiling the whole time as if I were on some fun roller coaster ride. The night ended quick and since half the guys left earlier that day and there were vacant beds, I got a queen bed all to myself:)&lt;br&gt;Jan.3-Woke up in the morning and it was time to head out. We had breakfast and went to the mall in Bend. Got myself a few things and we all ate lunch at this dandy restaurant. I wasn&amp;#39;t looking forward to the drive, or even going back to the Willamete Valley at all. The drive actually went by extremely fast, probably because the snow had melted on the roads through the mountains which allowed us to go fast. &lt;br&gt;All in all, I reallly liked the trip! I&amp;#39;m rather glad I went. I hope ya&amp;#39;ll will have another fun filled year!&lt;br&gt;Happy New Year 2012!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7542820985240450551?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7542820985240450551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7542820985240450551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7542820985240450551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7542820985240450551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-2012.html' title='New Years 2012!'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3158279599429147946</id><published>2012-01-01T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T23:59:11.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy New Year 2012 everyone! It shall be another great year of blogging:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3158279599429147946?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3158279599429147946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3158279599429147946' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3158279599429147946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3158279599429147946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year-2012-everyone-it-shall.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2855677720248633480</id><published>2011-12-30T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T22:54:29.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twitter Pilots</title><content type='html'>So, the clock is ticking and it&amp;#39;s almost a new year. I was on Twitter and just thought hey, lets follow all the pilots on there! I was quickly going through a lot and clicking the Follow button. A lot followed back and messaged me as well! Most of them asked if I was a pilot myself but unfortunately I&amp;#39;m not. They all offered help if I had any questions bout flight. Pilots are so nice, they really love to help out potential future pilots because it is in fact a rough road...or should I say sky? I got very aquainted with a few, one in particular who is a complete brainiac when it comes to airplanes cause hes done it all. He told me everything I needed to do and to sign up for financial aid to help me pay for classes and what not. All these things were giving me a headache. I still dream everyday of being a pilot, but it&amp;#39;s starting to warp more into a dream than reality. The money being a problem, it wasn&amp;#39;t long ago when I found out the real price tag of getting your Commercial Pilots License. Financial Aid &amp;amp; Scholarships would only cover 1/5 of it. It breaks my heart. I don&amp;#39;t want to do loans either because I&amp;#39;m utterly bad with money and don&amp;#39;t want to go in debt at such a young age. It frightens me. &lt;br&gt;I like to see that one pilot I met on Twitter as my personal trainer, hes been really helpful lately. My assignment is to read Pilots Handbook on Aeronautical Knowledge, &amp;amp; let me tell you, these handbooks can be big! I&amp;#39;ve read a small one a long time ago, but like I remember anything from it. I did sell one of my airplane manual type books which I probably shouldn&amp;#39;t of had. Like I said, becoming a pilot started to become more of a dream than reality so I saw reading all these pilot handbooks to be pointless. But my motivation is still there, and maybe since I can&amp;#39;t really apply as a Flight Attendant in the Summer due to my stupid braces, why not actually take flight lessons instead for the Summer and however long? Get a job, Financial Aid, &amp;amp; possible scholarships to help pay for it all? I was really hoping to get out of here by next year but doubt I&amp;#39;ll have enough resources to live on my own just yet. Plus without my parents&amp;#39; support with me wanting to fly so bad, it makes it a lot harder. &lt;br&gt;Just like I always say, all I want to do is fly with Gods Angels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2855677720248633480?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2855677720248633480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2855677720248633480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2855677720248633480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2855677720248633480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/twitter-pilots.html' title='Twitter Pilots'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7518085128765806487</id><published>2011-12-27T19:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T19:12:35.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2011</title><content type='html'>So, my original plans for Christmas Eve was to go to this large dinner party at church. If you knew me, you&amp;#39;d know the last place I&amp;#39;d want to go is sccs. They removed all the benches in the sanctuary and replaced it with tables which was never done before. Than the youth was going caroling right after which I&amp;#39;ve never done before either. In the end, I just ended up going to my cousins place with my sister and her husband. It was very chill and we had some yummy pizza. I got to taste test a lot of drinks they had, from wine to rum. There was one in particular I really liked, but I noticed myself getting dizzy. I never drank so much before, or have ever got buzzed. The thought of getting drunk frightens me, I can&amp;#39;t imagine not having full control of myself. It went away quick though so fortunately I saved myself from any phyisical problems. My cousin said I sure drank like an experienced drinker, though I never drink. I guess it&amp;#39;s just a &amp;quot;Like Father Like Daughter&amp;quot; thing. &lt;br&gt;Christmas Day was on a Sunday, which is nice cause sccs does so many services around Christmas time &amp;amp; my mum makes me go to all of them which is the worst. So if it was on a Thursday, we&amp;#39;d have to go to church Wed+Thur+Fri which is beyond ridiculous. There&amp;#39;s seriously no need for that. Since it was Sunday, it was just a regular church service. I told my cousins that they&amp;#39;d go overtime for sure since it was a special holiday. Everyone knows how much I despise when church goes longer than it&amp;#39;s suppose to (anytime past 2 hours). It was already 15min. past the 2 hours and people were looking at me, giggling how impatient and upset I was. They enjoy watching me suffer more than watching the pastor. 2 and a half hours later it finally ended, and I rushed home to start my Christmas in a more comfortable environment. In my Christmas pajamas, Christmas lights lit, tea, etc. It was a chill time home, than we headed to a family friends house where I got to hang out with two of my girlfriends I havn&amp;#39;t chilled with in forever. We had a splendid time, watching youtube videos, painting nails, and them teaching me how to grind. &lt;br&gt;The only gifts I got were 2 lotions, pair of Victorias Secret undies which I unfortunately had to give to my sister because they were a size too small, a bracelet, and a $25 Victorias Secret Gift Card so I can always buy myself some cute panties that are actually my size ha!&lt;br&gt;The next day, I took down my little Christmas tree and decorations in my room. I did leave the Christmas lights on my bed frame though, I like having em all year long. There is still Slavic Christmas we celebrate, but I feel like these holidays were really rushed so might as well get rid of the stuff already. I hate removing the Christmas tree, it just makes your room look so much uglier without it. I went to Walmart for some after Christmas sales, my head almost exploded. Not only from the great bargains but from all the people that were there, it made my head hurt so bad. &lt;br&gt;Now I&amp;#39;m just patiently waiting to go to the mountains for New Years weekend. I can&amp;#39;t believe school is back in session in quite a few days, it&amp;#39;s going to be such a pain. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m so eager to repaint my room too, I was going to do a Redish+Tangerine colour but will probably stick to a dark mocha colour instead. Want to have lots of things on my walls too, should be fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7518085128765806487?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7518085128765806487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7518085128765806487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7518085128765806487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7518085128765806487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-2011.html' title='Christmas 2011'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1007930584931722652</id><published>2011-12-23T22:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T22:11:59.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Us Look A Bit Back</title><content type='html'>So, as everyone knows, a new year is right around the corner. It&amp;#39;s funny to me that people see a new year as a fresh new start for things, but honestly they can start fresh any day of the year -_-* But I am part of that group that likes to look at the new year as a fresh new start. This year was quite a rollercoster:&lt;br&gt;18th Brithday=Adult age in the US.&lt;br&gt;Weddings.&lt;br&gt;New Borns.&lt;br&gt;Braces.&lt;br&gt;Boyfriend for 4 weeks.&lt;br&gt;Running away to San Diego for a week.&lt;br&gt;Very first job (as a sales associate).&lt;br&gt;New aquantences/buddies.&lt;br&gt;Great trip to Seattle.&lt;br&gt;Started my 5th year in High School,though I finished my HS Diploma &amp;amp; am currently continuing the free college.&lt;br&gt;Lots of crushes.&lt;br&gt;And probably a lot more things I can&amp;#39;t remember of right now.&lt;br&gt;I know 2012 will be a tough one because it&amp;#39;s the one where I have to fully focus on school &amp;amp; work. I don&amp;#39;t believe for a second it&amp;#39;s the last year of life so don&amp;#39;t be throwin that b.s. At me. My free college will end in Spring, &amp;amp; if I&amp;#39;m lucky enough I&amp;#39;ll be ending it with my certificate in Hospitality &amp;amp; Tourism Management. I thought I&amp;#39;d get an associates with this High School program, but they sure fooled me and I was too far in it to leave. I&amp;#39;m not sure if I want to continue another year in college to finish my associates, because I honestly don&amp;#39;t want to pay &amp;amp; I don&amp;#39;t know much bout Financial Aid. I might not get much or any from it considering my parents are employed full time. Than there&amp;#39;s work, I wanted to apply to airlines as a Flight Attendant but with braces, it fucked that all up. I can&amp;#39;t change orthodontists, I&amp;#39;ll probably miss a lot of appointments which will very much delay the straightening process, and I guarantee airlines don&amp;#39;t hire chicks with braces. Than there&amp;#39;s the airforce, which is kind of scary. Perhaps go to a program for my Air Traffic Control license, they do make the most money out of many in that industry. But I can&amp;#39;t imagine sitting in a tower for long hours, wishing I were the pilot being told where to land instead of me as the air traffic controller telling them where to land. It&amp;#39;s no fun considering all I want to do is fly and see the world. That is all I want.&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll be turning 19, which is not an exciting age cause I can already see everyone still being up my ass bout finding a boyfriend already or something I don&amp;#39;t give a crap bout. &lt;br&gt;Hopefully get a hotel or barista job, something I&amp;#39;d really enjoy and that would help me move the hell out of here. The minimum wage is gonna be raised which is nice, but of course that also means the prices for everything will rise too which sucks.&lt;br&gt;I hope to also have another great trip to Seattle, I feel like it&amp;#39;s a place I make the most wounderful memories at. &lt;br&gt;After this Christmas I really want to buy a lot of outdoor Christmas lights on sale to put up next year, considering ours somehow vanished. I just want to be more prepared for the holidays next year than this year. I&amp;#39;m not sure where I&amp;#39;ll be by the next holiday season though, will I decide to stay in school, will I still unfortunately be living with my parents who slave me to clean the house everyday, etc. Only God knows, but I hope He will show me sooner whether it&amp;#39;ll be good or bad. Perhaps I&amp;#39;ll die in a car accident? Now I&amp;#39;m just being a pessimist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1007930584931722652?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1007930584931722652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1007930584931722652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1007930584931722652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1007930584931722652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/let-us-look-bit-back.html' title='Let Us Look A Bit Back'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-239639769762975810</id><published>2011-12-23T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T21:03:49.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sherlock Holmes:A Game of Shadows</title><content type='html'>So, the first Sherlock Holmes as I remember, was long and somewhat confusing for the most part. It all made sense at the very last minute. This one though was really awesome, especially the slow-mo scenes! I think a lot of the footage was very well done and I can tell that those filming methods will probably be used a lot of future films. Especially ones with a lot of fighting like the movie 300. This one was rather confusing for the most part too, but the awesome scenes helped fix that problem for the most part. I simply love the steampunk theme, a lot like Howl's Moving Castle. Of course throughout the movie it started to come together with a lot of twists, by a lot I mean A Lot! I also noticed how much Robert Downey Jr. looks so much like Benny Benassi! I thought it was cool Noomi Rapace was also one of the main characters, she's absolutely gorgeous. I watched all the Stieg Larsson movies she was in as the main character (i.e.The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). Is it just me or are all Swedes just hot? Anywho, I do recommend you go see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-239639769762975810?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/239639769762975810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=239639769762975810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/239639769762975810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/239639769762975810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/sherlock-holmesa-game-of-shadows.html' title='Sherlock Holmes:A Game of Shadows'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2169897914935794632</id><published>2011-12-22T17:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T20:35:00.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delayed</title><content type='html'>So, I guess the reason I hadn't blogged for a while was cause I was going through a retarted phase. I'm still somewhat in it, but before I start thinking about it &amp;amp; decide to quit this post, I'll try to squeeze out as much as possible. I don't remember the last time I read the Bible which I'm sure most of you can relate, but now I don't remember the last time I legitamently prayed. What I mean by legitament is like not praying before &amp;amp; after sleep, and for my food. In church, I pray without meaning. This is abnormal for me, because if my soul is weakening than so is the phyisical part of me &amp;amp; vise-versa. I always feel like born &amp;amp; raised Christians have tougher trials than people who later become Christians. They've already done all the bad in their past life, &amp;amp; all of it is forgiven, so they have all this motivation to not fail the Lord again. My motivation to do the same seems to get weaker by the day, it's sad &amp;amp; embarrasing. &lt;br /&gt;I have one sin I do the most, it's like an irregular heart beat. I do it, than stop, than do it some more, than stop, than do it to a more extreme level, than stop. It's the way Satan plays with you. You think it all stopped after praying bout it, than all of a sudden he clenches you by the neck again. That's how I feel for the most part, this tight grip around my neck. Everyone knows there's a never ending spiritual battle. I feel like I slipped down the hill I was watching the battle from &amp;amp; got caught in the middle of the fight. I hate knowingly sinning, because it's far worse than not knowing it. It's exactly like flipping Jesus off everytime, even if you don't truely mean it because it's something else that's attacking you from the inside out. &lt;br /&gt;I just want to live in a cabin far from society that tempts you to do harmful things to you &amp;amp; your soul. My soul is Gods precious, but I am perverting it little by little. I just question when this will stop, when I won't worry bout myself this much.Too just think what the Lord has done &amp;amp; made for me, &amp;amp; be utterly thankful for it. I will never fail to be a believer in Him though, I'm not throwing 18 years of faithfully believing in Jesus down the drain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Zn60dbD0CsE?rel=0" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2169897914935794632?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2169897914935794632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2169897914935794632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2169897914935794632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2169897914935794632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/delayed.html' title='Delayed'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Zn60dbD0CsE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7854314635450396419</id><published>2011-12-20T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T19:10:25.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Week Adventure</title><content type='html'>So, my bff in Seattle randomly texted me saying she was finally coming over to stay for the week. It was about time because I already visited her twice in a row so it was her turn. It always seems weird after not seeing someone for so long, but I try to get used to them all of a sudden sitting next to me cause it's just so exciting that they're there with me! We went to our family friends house, who were getting ready to leave to Mexico the next day for vacation. I'm so jealous they go somewhere nice during Winter, I'm getting more and more pale by the day while their doing the opposite! Anywho, I took her everywhere I would go on a typical week such as the coffee shop, the theater, downtown, mall, etc. It was nice having her come with me because I always go everywhere by myself which can get boring, and no one else ever joins when I invite them. I also showed her my favourite movie called Spirited Away which is an anime. She surprisingly liked it and wanted to see more, so we watched Howl's Moving Castle and Princess Mononoke. My other favourite is Castle in the Sky but we didn't get a chance to watch it. Fri-Sun we went to Mt.Hood which was alright, not the best because there wasn't much snow and a lot of the slopes were closed. It was my mums 53rd birthday on Saturday, she never fails to impress me at the fact that she still skis at that age. I took my bff to the places I always went to such as the coffee shop and this one trail that loops around the cabins we stayed at. Of course we went swimming in the heated pool and did some hot tubbing. I was the only one in the pool for the most part, no one seemed to like it much cause they were either in the hot tub or sauna. I just love floating in warm water surrounded by snow, looking at the stars in the clear night sky with smoke floating up from the water. I went skiing once which I really enjoyed and hit up the warming hut on top of the hill. I actually bumped into 2 fellows from youth group which was totally random. We headed home Sunday morning and just rested and were lazy for the day. Monday I took my bff to the Portland Train Station, I hate saying goodbye to the people I love most. I roamed downtown Portland for a bit because I haven't been there forever, mainly to the Pioneer Square to see their Christmas Tree. I sat at the Starbucks in Pioneer Square for a bit, my heart felt really sore.&amp;nbsp;My bff was gone, and now I'm all alone again. I don't mind being alone for I'm used to it, but at the same time I really enjoy her company.&lt;br /&gt;As ghetto as downtown Portland is, I really miss being in such a busy town full of people. When I left Starbucks I was thinking how funny it would be if I saw someone I knew, than all of a sudden I did! My friend from my Portland church, I thought it was so funny. We sat and talked for a bit, caught up on life and what not. I than went to Pioneer Square Mall to see if I could find a good scarf which was a fail. I dropped by my cousins place in Wilsonville on the way home which was really chill, than finally home. It was weird not waking up to my bff the next morning, and me not having another chance at raping her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bXfPegXWts0/TvFN1nIl3lI/AAAAAAAAA38/As4d77t1F2M/s1600/IMG_0444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bXfPegXWts0/TvFN1nIl3lI/AAAAAAAAA38/As4d77t1F2M/s640/IMG_0444.JPG" width="478" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XkCfu7484Qs/TvFN3hfQrnI/AAAAAAAAA4E/0D0HuwaPLLc/s1600/IMG_1822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XkCfu7484Qs/TvFN3hfQrnI/AAAAAAAAA4E/0D0HuwaPLLc/s640/IMG_1822.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-7854314635450396419?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7854314635450396419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7854314635450396419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7854314635450396419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7854314635450396419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/week-adventure.html' title='Week Adventure'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bXfPegXWts0/TvFN1nIl3lI/AAAAAAAAA38/As4d77t1F2M/s72-c/IMG_0444.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5261298208535675854</id><published>2011-12-09T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T17:42:47.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PB+SB</title><content type='html'>So, Sveta came up to me a while ago during church and asked if I was willing to draw her &amp;amp; her husband someday. I said I would look into it but won't guarantee anything, because I don't take requests. I don't take requests because I don't charge money and I despise always having to give my drawings away. I like to draw beautiful people, and she is in fact beautiful...along with her brother and 2 sisters whom I've also drawn before. I looked though some of their wedding photos and thought this one was beautiful. I thought the bride would be hard to draw, but it was the husband who really got to me! I didn't like drawing his lips, and his jacket. After not drawing for a bit, you tend to loose some abilities. It seemed to be taking me such a long time to finish the portrait that towards the end I just quickly shaded through it and didn't bother taking my time anymore. Which I think is what caused it to not look its best, it ended up not being one of my favourites unfortunately. But all is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydFyZ8eehxk/TuK43xrA5II/AAAAAAAAA3o/6siF3XFv9pE/s1600/287646_271448219537330_225069520841867_1291837_3753862_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydFyZ8eehxk/TuK43xrA5II/AAAAAAAAA3o/6siF3XFv9pE/s640/287646_271448219537330_225069520841867_1291837_3753862_o.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pSOCrDFhCKA/TuK5EYHi9xI/AAAAAAAAA3w/97wbNfJM_xI/s1600/IMG_1787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="550" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pSOCrDFhCKA/TuK5EYHi9xI/AAAAAAAAA3w/97wbNfJM_xI/s640/IMG_1787.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-5261298208535675854?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5261298208535675854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5261298208535675854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5261298208535675854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5261298208535675854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/pbsb.html' title='PB+SB'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydFyZ8eehxk/TuK43xrA5II/AAAAAAAAA3o/6siF3XFv9pE/s72-c/287646_271448219537330_225069520841867_1291837_3753862_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1115500505676661265</id><published>2011-12-09T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T17:35:45.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prepping for Christmas 2011</title><content type='html'>So, the Christmas decorations for the house are still no where to be found. It seems like every year we have to buy new lights because our previous ones either get lost or break. I didn't want to wait for my mum to find where she might of put the Christmas lights, cause she most likely will never even bother to look. I'm jealous seeing all the houses have their lights up already but my parents are taking too long to find ours. I'm in charge of putting them up, but I am not in charge of storing them. Anywho, I didn't want to wait so I went to the store and bought my own Christmas stuff. I had a fake green tree last year but along with everything else, it's missing. I was debating if I wanted to get another natural green coloured one to match my Christmas tree scented candle, but I went for a white one instead which looks much cooler. I also bought candy canes, blue+silver ornaments and lights. My room is the only one ready for Christmas unlike the whole house, which makes it so cozy to sit in now. I reallly wanted to repaint my room before the New Year but with my friend coming over and just things going on, I might have to wait till the New Year :( all is good though. Here are a few pics, my favourite is wen I got tangled in lights! I love taking pics with really cool lighting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7x5zeS3aSR0/TuK3THZS6EI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/lAvFaTQht8E/s1600/IMG_1789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7x5zeS3aSR0/TuK3THZS6EI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/lAvFaTQht8E/s640/IMG_1789.JPG" width="342" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WpZ28IuhsUQ/TuK3SrntYPI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/yaKfn9Q7Q_g/s1600/IMG_1788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WpZ28IuhsUQ/TuK3SrntYPI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/yaKfn9Q7Q_g/s640/IMG_1788.JPG" width="626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iX-bih7TSHY/TuK3RgcUk2I/AAAAAAAAA3I/G9wS8knxK2o/s1600/IMG_1750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iX-bih7TSHY/TuK3RgcUk2I/AAAAAAAAA3I/G9wS8knxK2o/s640/IMG_1750.JPG" width="450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-1115500505676661265?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1115500505676661265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1115500505676661265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1115500505676661265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1115500505676661265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/prepping-for-christmas-2011.html' title='Prepping for Christmas 2011'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7x5zeS3aSR0/TuK3THZS6EI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/lAvFaTQht8E/s72-c/IMG_1789.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3985758912188677923</id><published>2011-12-09T16:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T16:08:24.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvthsv4luY1qk59nco1_500.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3985758912188677923?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3985758912188677923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3985758912188677923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3985758912188677923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3985758912188677923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2740100126775547856</id><published>2011-12-09T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T16:00:50.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hotter Than Fire</title><content type='html'>So,for some reason my obsession for Eric Saade is growing,I absoluelty love him in this new music video of his! So hawt&amp;lt;3 And the fact that it doesn't have a bunch of girls like all other guy artist music videos makes it more awesome, I love how this was filmed!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yzUOJlYy8iI?rel=0" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2740100126775547856?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2740100126775547856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2740100126775547856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2740100126775547856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2740100126775547856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/hotter-than-fire.html' title='Hotter Than Fire'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/yzUOJlYy8iI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4346804070674864887</id><published>2011-12-09T00:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T00:08:07.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone</title><content type='html'>So,I had quite a mellow day.I&amp;#39;m rather sad because the guy I like isn&amp;#39;t replying to my texts anymore.I&amp;#39;m not sure if it&amp;#39;s something I said when we hung out at school.Yes,we jogged together which was awesome besides the fact that I&amp;#39;m such a weak sauce compared to him.He doesn&amp;#39;t jog,he runs which was rather hard for me to keep up.He was talking for the most part but than he said &amp;quot;Tell me something about yourself,you seem to be in downtown a lot.Who do you hang out with?&amp;quot;. I simply said the hobbies I do such as drawing, &amp;amp; that I do in fact go to the cafe a lot &amp;amp; now I like going to the movie theater a lot...but this is all on my own.His reaction at the fact that I always went &amp;amp; hung out at places alone seemed a little off.I explained that none of my friends ever go out so I always end up going by myself which is a legitament excuse.Of course I don&amp;#39;t really know if that&amp;#39;s why he hasn&amp;#39;t replied to any of my texts,but it sure gor me thinking bout myself.Why do I enjoy being alone so much?Cause apparantly in this society it&amp;#39;s not normal to be going place alone too much.Whatever.&lt;br&gt;I went to Gov Cup before youth group to continue working on a drawing that seems to never get finished!On the way to youth,I drive by Broadway Coffee House.I saw a guy I knew through the window so I pulled in and joined him.I hadn&amp;#39;t talked to him in a long time,but he never seems to change.I asked him how life was and he replied with Still Single.It made me laugh how all Uki guys his age are like that,kind of sad though.I ended up not going to youth at all,I honestly wasn&amp;#39;t in the mood to go which is somewhat rare.I wouldn&amp;#39;t go if I wasn&amp;#39;t in the mood cause than I wouldn&amp;#39;t pay attention to the sermon much and feel like I&amp;#39;m simply waisting my time.It&amp;#39;s not like I have anything better to do,but it&amp;#39;d be wrong of me to go to a youth service to just hang out with people without going for the real purpose of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4346804070674864887?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4346804070674864887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4346804070674864887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4346804070674864887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4346804070674864887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/alone.html' title='Alone'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2946283672204570200</id><published>2011-12-05T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T23:27:25.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cali+Mexico</title><content type='html'>So, my mum had forced me to her church which surprisingly was kinda fun cause me &amp;amp; a friend were talking through the whole service and one thing in particular happened. This guy from Cali who visited with the Cali Youth Choir randomly showed up! We couldn't believe our eyes, we were silently cracking up so hard because we all thought he came for a girl. He's a very handsome buff man, but apparently he was up in Portland so he decided to drop by. All the girls see him as a player because he's always surrounded by girls, but he's actually a very funny laid back dood so whatevz. After service, me and two other girls went out to eat with him which was great! So many laughs, smiling, and food. I felt bad he had to drive back to Sacramento right after but he has a super nice car so that didn't matter!&lt;br /&gt;Right after, I sped to a wedding I had to get to. I only made it for the reception which was pretty chill, the bride was beautiful. It reminded me a lot of a conservative Russian wedding, where people just sit and converse, eating with music playing. Cept it was a Mexican wedding which was definitely a first for me and quite an experience. A lot of the older woman didn't speak English and spoke Spanish to me as I sat there in confusion, thankfully I had a bud there who translated everything for me haha More smiling, laughing, and food. That was a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2946283672204570200?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2946283672204570200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2946283672204570200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2946283672204570200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2946283672204570200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/calimexico.html' title='Cali+Mexico'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1081408874361104748</id><published>2011-12-02T23:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T23:04:38.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologize</title><content type='html'>So, it&amp;#39;s funny how fascinated people are with my adventures with Boys. How I meet them, what goes down, &amp;amp; if it ends up going no where which can be unfortunate. Of course many of the guys become aquantences, buddies, or rarely Brothers from other Mothers. Anyways, surely you may have read my recent one about asking this one good looking guy his name...than running off cause I wasn&amp;#39;t sure what else to say. It kept bugging me that I had done that, &amp;amp; I really wanted &amp;amp; needed to apologize. I wasn&amp;#39;t sure how though, I was gonna give him a note but that&amp;#39;s seriously so middle school. &lt;br&gt;Class got out really early so I went to conditioning (work out) when he was there too. I got out earlier than he did so I sat at the school cafe to talk with a buddy. Than I headed back to see if he was almost done. I sat there for a bit &amp;amp; than I spot him heading out the door. My uncontrollable legs sped to him, it was going to be either really awkward or really good. &lt;br&gt;I apologized, said my name, &amp;amp; told him how much I loved his hair cause seriously, it&amp;#39;s like the most perfect fohawk I&amp;#39;ve seen. I thought he would just say Ok Thanks See You Around, but we ended up talking for quite a bit. I couldn&amp;#39;t believe that I was standing in front of him, talking to him. It was so unreal. I could look at those eyes of his for hours. He suggested we exchanged numbers to keep in touch, I got my iPhone &amp;amp; noticed how shakey my hands were! What the hell I thought. My phone was literaly wobbling it was embarrasing so I gave my phone to him to have him add himself. He looks so much like Eric Saade, it&amp;#39;s awesome!&lt;br&gt;He&amp;#39;s so kind. I hope we can continue from being new friends, to good ol&amp;#39; friends. I&amp;#39;m glad I had the courage to do such thing, it was definitely one of the hardest things I had to go through just to make a friend. It was probably hard cause he&amp;#39;s unique in my eyes which made it tough to approach him. Wish I&amp;#39;ve done it earlier though!&lt;br&gt;It was really good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1081408874361104748?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1081408874361104748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1081408874361104748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1081408874361104748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1081408874361104748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/12/apologize.html' title='Apologize'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7235688156689585721</id><published>2011-11-30T22:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T22:40:34.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Couple Drawing/3=Chaos</title><content type='html'>So, I started drawing another portrait &amp;amp; am kinda excited bout it! I seem to take long breaks in between drawing portraits, long enough to have energy to make them as perfect as possible. It&amp;#39;s of this newly wed couple, the wife asked if I&amp;#39;d be willing to draw her &amp;amp; her husband. You may know that I do not take requests, cause I do not get paid (I&amp;#39;d prefer not to be paid) so I simply don&amp;#39;t take requests. It takes a lot of time &amp;amp; it hurts always having to give it away. Anywho, she is gorgeous. I&amp;#39;ve already drawn 2 of her sisters &amp;amp; her brother because they are all gorgeous so I very much enjoy drawing them. I found a perfect wedding portrait of her &amp;amp; her husband that I&amp;#39;m working on. The husband is looking down so he&amp;#39;ll be rather easy but after looking at it for a while, he&amp;#39;ll be harder to draw+shade than her. &lt;br&gt;As I walk through school, for some reason my eyes keep wandering up &amp;amp; down people. &amp;quot;He has a nice hip structure&amp;quot;-&amp;quot;She has nice calves&amp;quot;-&amp;quot;He has nice legs&amp;quot;-&amp;quot;She has a nice booty&amp;quot; I&amp;#39;m examining peoples body &amp;amp; face structures more &amp;amp; more. Drawing people opens my eyes more to the human form, it&amp;#39;s rather neat.&lt;br&gt;We had our last college gathering at Outward for the year, which sucks cause I like it too much that I wish it never stopped. But it will be up again next year. I said Hi to one buddy after than proceeded out. The pastor chased me down (again) to ask how I was doing. I admited I was doing reallllly crappy, that I&amp;#39;ve never been so distant with God now than ever. It just sucks, I feel like I have no motivation to do anything for Him as much as I want and did. And that I feel like I&amp;#39;m failing Him everyday so I&amp;#39;m just letting myself down. I told him all the things I do for the week, &amp;amp; he noticed something wrong. I go to a pentecostal &amp;amp; sometimes orthodox church, and go to a baptist youth group. 3 denominations=chaos. What I like about Outward is that it&amp;#39;s non-denominational, but so many Christian Slavics tell me it&amp;#39;s not right to be without a denomination which I totally disagree with. He said the reason I have so much stuff on my mind is cause I have thoughts and beliefs all from different denominations combined, which apparantly is not good. I mean, I always naturally want to cross myself when we pray at a pentecostal church, &amp;amp; pray in tounges out loud in a baptist church. None of that goes together though. He suggestest I pick one &amp;amp; to pick their church because they focus more on the Bible unlike the others. The only thing in the way is my mum, she dissaproves of every other church besides her own so she would hate me for going to an American church on Sunday mornings. But I can&amp;#39;t choose one church or one denomination, I like all the 3 I go to :( It made me sad that the pastor said I had to stick to one and not all. But if I try to do so, will my thoughts slowly clear &amp;amp; make me go back to being normal and doing something that will please God everyday again? I have no idea. I just don&amp;#39;t want to upset my creator.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7235688156689585721?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7235688156689585721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7235688156689585721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7235688156689585721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7235688156689585721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/couple-drawing3chaos.html' title='Couple Drawing/3=Chaos'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7131688497461940173</id><published>2011-11-27T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T14:17:27.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Friday 2011</title><content type='html'>So, I wake up at 12:00 and simply did homework and hung around the house for 2 hours than took a 4 hour nap before the family Thanksgiving dinner at my cousins. There was so much good food, and so much meat that I didn't even know where to start. It's fun getting the whole family together cause there's always something to talk about. There was a table for the kids which was kind of funny cause I remember always having to sit at the kiddie table when I went to family dinners. After the dinner, I gulped my Rockstar energy drink and off to Woodburn Outlet we went. I had never gone there for Black Friday but I was told it gets very packed. The scary part was, I wasn't going there to shop, but to work! I was excited but as the time grew nearer to it, I was kind of regretting my decision of saying yes because I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to handle it after all. My friend is a lead cashier at Calvin Klein, and every year the associates round up people to work on Black Friday because they need the extra help. There is more casual labor than associates! We went to a meeting a couple days before discussing what was gonna go down and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Try to sell 105k-135k for the 24hrs the store will be open (we made 107k, yeay!)&lt;br /&gt;Look out for theft, for it's the day stuff gets stolen the most&lt;br /&gt;Don't complain about being tired (I had 2 Rockstars to avoid that)&lt;br /&gt;Just do your best&lt;br /&gt;I mean considering I've worked in retail, helping customers wasn't anything new for me. I arrived an hour earlier so I just hung around the store, we left two hours early cause the traffic was crazy as they said it was going to be. Lot's of road assistant guys and cops keeping an eye out for people in traffic. It was mad packed. One thing for sure though, I've never seen so many Asians in one day in my life. Everywhere you turned, everywhere you looked, Asians. They all come from Canada and I would see them every weekend when I used to work at the mall, but never that many on such a night. I thought the Christmas music that was playing in the store, was playing in Japanese for a sec. It was bad. Anywho, I was placed the womens underwear/bra+clearance section of the store. Womens underwear is one of the top things that get stolen in the store so I had to keep a close eye on the ladies who were looking through em. I took so much time to organize the underwear and straighten it, but it would get destroyed the next minute! At Calvin Klein you get to wear a headset so that you don't have to go looking for another associate to ask something. It's really fun, but I would get kind of scared when they would say they see someone acting suspicious or stuffing things in their bag. I've never dealt with theft so I wasn't sure what I'd have to do if I actually saw someone stuff undies in their purse. Fortunately I didn't see anyone do that so it was all good. There were some stories of the fitting room gals finding security things on the floor in the rooms so stuff obviously got stolen but it happens. I worked from 23:00-09:00, a 10 hour shift. It was sooooo weird watching the sun rise while working, I mean I know it's nothing new or special to people who travel for a living but as some typical sales associate, it's wicked. We all just stood there looking at the sun beaming in our face over the horizon. It was just weird. After a longgg night, I was finally done. My sister came to pick me up, but she wanted to shop so we did that for another hour and a half at Woodburn Outlet, than went to Washington Square Mall for another billion hours. I was literally in zombie mode, I had no clue what was going on around me, my feet just followed my sister and cousin (who came along). I felt like time was flying by without even noticing. When I finally got home at 19:00, I passed out. I was up for 31 hours, and slept for 17. I couldn't believe I woke up to Saturday already, I didn't even remember Friday at all. On Saturday me and my sis went to Woodburn Outlet again to return/exchange some things, than went out to coffee with our cousins to Bridgeport. It was yet another long night but all in all it was better than the previous 2 nights.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just glad I got through working on the biggest shopping day of the year. I am the few who get to say they Survived working on such a night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7131688497461940173?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7131688497461940173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7131688497461940173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7131688497461940173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7131688497461940173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/black-friday-2011.html' title='Black Friday 2011'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5546172317352127276</id><published>2011-11-18T21:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T21:34:39.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just don't know...</title><content type='html'>So, my mum was being up my butt about what my plans are after graduation. ECHS was a big mistake because I remember the first day I went there, they guaraunteed you your high school diploma &amp;amp; associates by the end of your 5th year. It&amp;#39;s my last year, and not only myself but all the 5th year students realize that that was all bullshit &amp;amp; it&amp;#39;s too late to turn back. 9/10 of us are graduating without an associates because we were busy acumilating credits for our high school diploma through college classes. If you do the complicated math process, you&amp;#39;ll see how much time us students waisted getting credits that are useless for the college degrees we want. I had my schooling and work all planned out so well, but now that my schooling is effed, so is my future work. I can&amp;#39;t apply as a flight attendant next year as I had anticipated because of my braces. 2012 was suppose to be a good year to finally start something I&amp;#39;ll be doing all my life, but now it&amp;#39;s not good. I want to try to get scholarships so I can possibly continue my schooling and actually get my associates degree in Hospitality &amp;amp; Tourism Management. My mum still thinks flight attending and the airline business itself is all bullshit. The fact that I have no support in what I want to be is not a problem, it&amp;#39;s just getting to that starting point of moving out and starting a new life somewhere else. With a minimum wage job, it&amp;#39;s nearly impossible to save enough in a short time to move out on your own. Plus where will I move with an airline that takes +18 year olds. There are no airline bases at my local airport (PDX) so I have to move near a different airline base. I guess the moving part is not the problem, it&amp;#39;s just all about having the money to having the option of taking those first steps. Money is everything in this country and world. I obviously can&amp;#39;t or won&amp;#39;t ask my parents for it because if they don&amp;#39;t support my career choices, than what reason would they have to help pay my rent or anything at all. They pay for my sister &amp;amp; her husband cause their &amp;#39;nursing students&amp;#39; and it&amp;#39;s for a &amp;#39;good cause&amp;#39;. But me, I&amp;#39;m a nobody, just working job to job with a not so glamourous degree. I just hate that my mum is asking me this stuff now, I want to procrastinate on this thought until it&amp;#39;s the right time to think about it. Maybe towards the end of school, not beginning. I just don&amp;#39;t know anymore...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5546172317352127276?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5546172317352127276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5546172317352127276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5546172317352127276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5546172317352127276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-just-dont-know.html' title='I just don&apos;t know...'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8349885124354091358</id><published>2011-11-17T21:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T21:56:50.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Run from Awkwardness</title><content type='html'>So, there&amp;#39;s this one guy (another,I know). I&amp;#39;ve been seeing him around school for probably the past year. Yes he&amp;#39;s cute. I don&amp;#39;t know how or why but we always kind of give each other that look as if we&amp;#39;re checkin each other out? I don&amp;#39;t know how to explain it, we&amp;#39;re not literally checking each other out it&amp;#39;s just complicated. I mostly see him at the gym while I&amp;#39;m doing conditioning. It reminds me of this one time in my sophmore year where me and this one guy would always just look at each other when we walked past. He is still the most gorgeous boy I&amp;#39;ve seen to this day. After months of that, I sat at this one tabel outside his class. When out of no where he sat at my tabel and says &amp;quot;Hi&amp;quot;. I almost fainted. &lt;br&gt;Back to this other kid, it&amp;#39;s been so long and neither of us had made a move. I needed to do something. I smiled at him once when we did that look, and it made my day. I went to conditioning before my first class just to get it over with, when than I find out my first class was cancled. I was debating whether I should go back home or to the computer lab to work on my online homework. Obviously working on my homework is a smarter choice. There&amp;#39;s one section of the computers I always sit at. And guess who was sitting there, that kid, with an empty computer next to him. It was like a call from God. I walked to that computer fast before anyone else did cause people can snatch an open computer fast! Oh man oh man how awkward it was. I can tell he was kind of nervous, this one moment his screen was empty and he was resting on his hands. I woundered what he was thinking bout, than he started doing random stuff online. I wanted to sit there until he left, but I didn&amp;#39;t want to sit there for long so I gathered my things and got up. I couldn&amp;#39;t leave without saying something. I whispered &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Hey,what&amp;#39;s your name?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Andy&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;You might think I replied with &amp;quot;Cool I&amp;#39;m Alesa,nice to meet you *shakes hand*&amp;quot; But you know what I did next...I walked,no,I ran off! W.T.F. I honestly couldn&amp;#39;t stop laughing cause I couldn&amp;#39;t believe what just happened. I couldn&amp;#39;t imagine what was running through his mind after I bounced. He probably thought &amp;quot;ummm ok,random?&amp;quot; or something worse :( Why did I run? I was thinking what if he asks Why I had asked for his name? I don&amp;#39;t have an answer, nor anythig to else to say to make it less awkward than it was. So I speed walked away to avoid any really awkward moments. He&amp;#39;s so cute though ^o^ so buff too. Now that I got his name, I need to apologize for the awkwardness. I&amp;#39;ll probably just be straight forward and say I freaked cause his good looks and charm made my nervous level go to the max. Yea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8349885124354091358?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8349885124354091358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8349885124354091358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8349885124354091358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8349885124354091358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/run-from-awkwardness.html' title='Run from Awkwardness'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7314614570923099681</id><published>2011-11-13T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T18:14:15.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cali Homies</title><content type='html'>So, earlier in the week we get a text message saying a youth choir group of 50 from Sacramento was coming for the weekend because they were going to perform at Sccs on Sunday morning. They asked for people to offer their homes if possible to take some people to spend the night. When I went to a youth conference in Tacoma, we stayed at some Ukrainian peoples house (one of the girls who was with us is related to them so that's how we ended up in their place, but there were a lot of people who offered their place). So I know how it's like to stay at strangers places and it's honestly not all that bad, kind of fun actually. Because unlike a hotel, you don't have to pay and it's like a fun sleepover! I was a little hesitant about offering my house considering we've never done such a thing, or have we ever had a youth that came to Sccs needing homes to sleepover at. My mum said God would punish us if we didn't take any (as a joke, well actually idk if she was serious but either way). I mean unlike almost everyone else at youth, I'm an only child so there is very minimum people in my house and quite a bit of sleeping room. We decided to take three which is a good amount, there were still about 15 people who needed homes. Saturday morning they arrived and we all ate breakfast and just got to know pretty much everyone. They are really cool people, they were shy at first but we don't accept shy people so we had to drag them to get the tons of food the wounderful girls of the kitchen made for em. They all went to Silver Falls cause that's usually where Sccs always takes guests no matter how frigid cold it is. I had to work so I missed the trip there but I honestly would have skipped it either way cause it was way to cold for Silver Falls! After work I went back to church where they were already at and we had dinner, though I wasn't that hungry. I was hyper cause work was boring and I was full of energy, but everyone else was tired and falling asleep on the tables. I told the youth leader I was able to take 3 people, and since there were more boys than girls, I ended up with 3 boys. I didn't mind at all, I actually wanted guys instead of girls! I mean I don't remember the last time I had someone sleep over that wasn't a relative, and the fact that it was going to be boys was awesome. I've always wanted brothers, always, so I knew that night was going to be one to remember which it was. Their names were Alex+Slavic (real brothers) and Michael. I was a little nervous they were going to be really shy or independent but we clicked right when we sat in the car to go to my place. I think they might of thought I was faking my gangster talk, but they than realized I'm a real gangster. We arrived and they settled in their room, each took showers, and than we talked forever. Literally, forever. My parents came home from friends house and my mum, the generously annoying woman she can be, was forcing them to go have tea+cake when they fed us like crazy at church already. We had some though and we were discussing the Bible, faith, and church rules. I guess the only major thing that differed between our beliefs is that their girls have to wear head scarves during service when our girls don't. Sccs never pressures or tells girls to wear them, it does have something about it in the Bible, but it's something that's very debatable. I don't think Sccs ever really takes the time talking about it cause it's honestly not something worth talking about. When others talk about the Bible and other subjects along that, it's always the same stuff. It's still interesting to hear what people think about such things cause not everyone has the same opinions.&amp;nbsp;We talked forever about that.&amp;nbsp;One of them reminded me of my buddy in Washington soooo much, they look and act the same, so argumentative, have to get their point across before everyone else, and straight up Ukis. It's funny cause they brought up about how when you go visit another youth in another state or wherever, you always seem to find a copy of yourself which is so true. Everytime I go visit a youth out of state, they always tell me how I look like this one girl they know and I somehow act like her too? It's freaky. Than we went back to the room, and continued talking forever. It was awesome though!!! So much fun with them!!! We went to bed around 01:30 which was funny cause at church, all they begged for was sleep but that didn't happen after hours. The next morning we all woke up and got ready for church and once again, the generously annoying mum was force feeding them even when we were going to be late to church. My mum loved them though, she said she would adopt all 3 of them if she could. I would personally love that too, they were some true brothers (in Christ) to me. I had to take em earlier to church for their choir practice but that's when it's easiest to find a parking spot and a seat in church. After service we ate some yummy Costco pizza and went to downtown to take pictures in front of our ghetto capital building. We took lots of pictures together which I'm eager to get and share! I found out some guys spent the night at a hotel which kind of sucks (though they actually wanted to), I should have got more and threw them in my room but 3 was a perfect amount. My friend had 4 guys at her place but she never even really spoke to them, I have no idea how you can just not talk to them the whole time their at your house!? I'm glad my homies were chill and talkative, real talkative ._. We drove back to church after downtown so that they were able to get their stuff, and we took some more group pics with the whole youth. The sun was peering through the clouds, it was beautiful, it almost made me cry because I was going to miss them so much. We hang out with a lot of youths but I think we had the closest bond with this youth cause we didn't just spend a couple hours or just a day with them, but a night and two whole days which is actually quite some time. I said goodbye to my homies, and drove home really teary (I'm getting teary from typing this already). I pray that I'll get to see 'em some time soon.&lt;br /&gt;Yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zMZ_mu6nj6s/TsCXzUsY2yI/AAAAAAAAA2M/QNdLO1bscuY/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zMZ_mu6nj6s/TsCXzUsY2yI/AAAAAAAAA2M/QNdLO1bscuY/s640/IMG_0150.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-7314614570923099681?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7314614570923099681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7314614570923099681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7314614570923099681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7314614570923099681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/cali-homies.html' title='Cali Homies'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zMZ_mu6nj6s/TsCXzUsY2yI/AAAAAAAAA2M/QNdLO1bscuY/s72-c/IMG_0150.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5960838538013427505</id><published>2011-11-11T18:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T18:05:29.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunriver/Foot</title><content type='html'>So, I got invited to Sunriver with a group of people for New Years. I know you probably think I&amp;#39;m crazy already talking about New Years but these things take time to plan! At first I was excited that I got invited, but than I began to have second thoughts. I don&amp;#39;t have much in common with these people, I didn&amp;#39;t grow up with them considering their a generation ahead of me. I began to think of how alone I&amp;#39;ll be there, I&amp;#39;m used to being a loaner but that&amp;#39;s unacceptable on New Years night. I am the youngest one even though 18 doesn&amp;#39;t seem so young. Quite a few of them are married couples, the rest aren&amp;#39;t but I still don&amp;#39;t have any type of bond with them. The only people I&amp;#39;m close to are my cousin+her husband and my sister+her husband (though they&amp;#39;ll only be there for a night or 2) So I said I didn&amp;#39;t want to go anymore, perhaps next year. My cousin who is going got upset when he found out I change my mind. He said I said &amp;quot;I was gonna go next year,last year!&amp;quot; I don&amp;#39;t remember being invited last year honestly? I aske my dad if they were planning on goin to Mt.Hood cause that always comes before any other event invite for New Years. My dad said no one wants to go anywhere on New Years so most likely not. My main thing bout New Years is that I have to be somewhere out of Salem, and particularly somewhere with a ton of snow. I gave in and am now back to going to Sunriver. Crossing my fingers I won&amp;#39;t be too lonely. Maybe I&amp;#39;ll make better relationships with the others? Maybe not.&lt;br&gt;I finally went to the doctor for my ankle, it started to pop really loud when I moved it and wouldn&amp;#39;t go away. I thought my bone was shifting out of place &amp;amp; they were going to have to do something crazy. But all in all, the doctor just told me the tissue muscle was really sore which is causing it to pop. This is due to walking a lot &amp;amp; jogging, particularly in bad shoes such as flats and ones that don&amp;#39;t have good soles. They suggested I wore good tennis shoes that give your feet a shape rather than flat shoes. I also have to do stretches and put ice on it here and there. That sucks, I was hoping I&amp;#39;d get a brace or crunches so that I wouldn&amp;#39;t have to walk like I have a broken foot. Unfortunately I have to continue walking on it, but it should heal overtime after doing those proceedures a lot. I just want to jog again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5960838538013427505?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5960838538013427505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5960838538013427505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5960838538013427505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5960838538013427505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/sunriverfoot.html' title='Sunriver/Foot'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8064528178961621752</id><published>2011-11-07T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T20:26:27.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep Calm &amp; Carry On</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So, Nov. 2 was my sisters 20th birthday. A lot of people think we're only a year apart, but technically we're a year &amp;amp; about 4 months apart. When I was younger I used to always be jealous when my sister turned a year older, I couldn't wait to be that age too. I mean yea I'm jealous she's 20 cause she's only 12 months away from being 21 and getting to go to clubs even though that is really not her thing at all. Happy (late) Birthday to her though. She came over for the weekend and we went out shopping and ate at our cousins place with a bunch of their friends (I was mostly in the office doing homework, not really my crowd of people). We had some scrumptious red velvet cake and watched Wipeout. One of our friends left the same time we did, so you bet we raced on the highway! Well not exactly, we rode side by side the whole time but really fast. He was driving really close to us to where I can stick my arm out and open his car door from the inside of his car. It reminded me of Ukraine cause there are no lines on the road so people drive wherever they want on it, and however close to you. There was one point where we grab each others hands, I had epic butterflies in my stomach. Just cause of all the adrenaline rushing through me that I'm actually holding someones hand while driving down the highway at 80mph. I was scared that I was going to fall out though so I forced myself back in the car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The next Sunday morning I went to my dads church which I haven't in forever so I was kind of excited to go see my friend there. The priest was telling the story about Lazarus, and how we should apply the concept of helping each other whether their poor or not. I like that story. Standing in the church I realized how much I wanted to get baptized there already, like I would've done it on the spot if I could. I just don't have the guts to tell me mum at all which is sad cause it doesn't matter what she thinks. And their having a youth conference in Cali which I would so want to go to but of course you have to be baptized, which I'm obviously not. *sigh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Last New Years Eve I got into a Ski accident (http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/01/ski-collision.html) The only thing I kind of hurt was my ankle, it twisted quite a bit but since it was in a big ski boot it didn't hurt it that much. Well now my foot is popping everytime I walk and just make circler motions with it which apparently isn't normal. I called Kaiser Permanente for an appointment but the next one available isn't for another week and a half...what part of My Foot Will Fall Off By Than don't they understand? I can't jog cause it's super uncomfortable so idk what to do during conditioning besides walk in circles around the place which gets boring honestly. Lifting weights isn't really my thing either so I spend a lil time on those.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This guy whom I really liked has been sending me smiley &amp;amp; winky faces these past couple nights. I'm kind of surprised he hasn't forgotten me considering he hasn't really spoke to me since I visited him a while ago, +1000 miles away. But even that one smiley face he sends makes my day, just like he always does. As much as I tell myself to forget him, I'm at the point where I need God's help to forget him because I can't do it myself v_v so sad/stupid.&lt;br /&gt;I randomly took this pic and it made me realize that I wouldn't make a good mother, and that I would never want to be one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tg3S82AifzE/TsCYasYVTUI/AAAAAAAAA2U/gGLXQKZsrFg/s1600/IMG_0138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tg3S82AifzE/TsCYasYVTUI/AAAAAAAAA2U/gGLXQKZsrFg/s640/IMG_0138.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8064528178961621752?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8064528178961621752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8064528178961621752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8064528178961621752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8064528178961621752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/keep-calm-carry-on.html' title='Keep Calm &amp; Carry On'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tg3S82AifzE/TsCYasYVTUI/AAAAAAAAA2U/gGLXQKZsrFg/s72-c/IMG_0138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-919564259652071132</id><published>2011-11-03T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T22:37:54.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Other way around</title><content type='html'>So, as I was sitting in youth, this question came to my mind. "Why is it so easy to go to Hell, but so hard to get into Heaven?" Simply turning away from God is a one way ticket to Hell, but to be humble to God and doing what He wants seems so hard? I mean if you do it right, than you'll be a happy person and you will see the good light at the end of the tunnel. But omg, do you even know how many things there is to do right!? This past week I'm having mixed questions like&amp;nbsp;"Well if we're committing sins by doing both bad &amp;amp; good, how will we ever be saved?" And I say good because in my American yecheika we learned that if you think you're better than others because you do good deeds (such as going to church and being involved in a ministry), you're really not any better (Acts 15). You know your just doing all that because you think by doing that, you will be saved. It's not all about you, nothing is about you. It's about Him. Going to church and what not is for yourself, to grow in knowledge about God. Just because you physically go there and help out in the church, doesn't mean your gonna be saved. And at youth the subject was about being 'proud' and how it's wrong in every way. Simply be humble to God, rather than asking to improve your self image cause we're all clearly messed by even thinking about asking such a stupid thing. Than there's "Ok I'll obviously accept the fact that I'm a wreck without God, but how do I prove to Him that I can do better since everything that I can do will be considered a sin cause it'll fall in the category of Selfishness and being Proud of myself." I mean you can definitely not make it seem like your trying so hard, you could have that natural burning passion for God, but to start that flame is tough.&lt;br /&gt;I than realized the only time I cried from a youth sermon was when Yuriy was preaching about Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;It's really not all about trying to get to Heaven, it's all about Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-919564259652071132?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/919564259652071132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=919564259652071132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/919564259652071132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/919564259652071132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/other-way-around.html' title='Other way around'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-55726414322106598</id><published>2011-11-01T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T19:51:08.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Light Cafe Concert</title><content type='html'>So, lately I seem to be lacking in blogging posts which I truly apologize to my readers (if any). Well let's just talk about Light Cafe that went down at my favourite church Slavic New Beginnings. This one was extra special because they had 3 well known artists perform, 2 of them I haven't seen in a long time. I took my little cousin George again just cause he enjoys going with me and it always seems to be fun with him. We left a bit earlier so that I could drop by Under Armour and return my shoes that gave me the deepest most bloodiest blisters in the world. My mum had cleaned them real good though so it was really unnoticeable, and I've only really worn them twice so whatever. It was pouring rain out and it was getting darker by the minute so we had to head back on the highway. We drove up a few miles when than bam, insane traffic that we were stuck in for 30min. It was already 19:30 by the time we got through with the traffic and that's when the show was suppose to start so I was really stressing out and the weather was really bad. I still thank the Lord for keeping us alive, it was that bad. We finally got to the church by 19:50 but the show hadn't even started yet! There weren't that many people either which was good because I knew quite a lot of them, but bad cause of course you always want tons of people. One person had caught my eye, Nick mother effin Matev. I hadn't seen him for years, even during the time I used to 'help' him book shows in all sorts of places.Of course I went up to introduce myself, he actually recognized me when I first walked in. I honestly don't hate him anymore from past events, he really does seem like a cool guy, but it really upsets me when others adore him cause...whatever. Enough bout him though, I really enjoyed this show because they encouraged everyone to stand up front and rock out unlike that other concert in Vancouver where the camera crew asks you to back off (noobs!). Me &amp;amp; my friend Marina were jumping up front with quite a few others. First was Sons of Day which I haven't seen since they opened for The Katinas a year or 2 ago. Than there was Briksa which is like the Chuck Norris of Christian Russian singers. Whenever he's done singing the hosts always want to ask him questions in English but his same response is "I don't speak English because I'm Christian" which is just wow beyond racist but kind of funny coming from such an old guy. Than finally, everyones favourite band, Imprint. I've seen them play so many times it's ridiculous, but everytime is always so flippin awesome. Long story short it was great, and ChaiOk had some awesome tea and sweets.&lt;br /&gt;A vid I made while I was there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rhXbw5vHchM" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-55726414322106598?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/55726414322106598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=55726414322106598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/55726414322106598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/55726414322106598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/11/light-cafe-concert.html' title='Light Cafe Concert'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/rhXbw5vHchM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2062072121544600562</id><published>2011-10-30T15:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T15:15:04.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif; font-size: 19px; letter-spacing: -0.05px; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;I guess I just have to accept the fact that you aren't the person that I once knew. And that we aren't the best friends we once were v_v&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2062072121544600562?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2062072121544600562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2062072121544600562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2062072121544600562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2062072121544600562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-guess-i-just-have-to-accept-fact-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5538621997641454099</id><published>2011-10-27T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T14:49:35.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Swimsuit</title><content type='html'>So, I randomly got a free $5 credit to this one company site where I bought one of my swimsuits from on Ebay. I decided to put it to good use and bought another cute swimsuit from them. The shorts aren't attached to the top like my other one which kind of sucks cause now my muffin top sticks out but it's all good. Fat is good (to an extent). Here's some fun photos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A2IhoQPP2Zw/TqnR0omiH2I/AAAAAAAAAzo/NoDuQMBMb4o/s1600/IMG_1618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A2IhoQPP2Zw/TqnR0omiH2I/AAAAAAAAAzo/NoDuQMBMb4o/s640/IMG_1618.JPG" width="394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d6Q3vyCp1i4/TqnR1IiOG7I/AAAAAAAAAzw/LZ5ouaB_rvs/s1600/IMG_1619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d6Q3vyCp1i4/TqnR1IiOG7I/AAAAAAAAAzw/LZ5ouaB_rvs/s640/IMG_1619.JPG" width="350" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uby1HCFo5_g/TqnR1q269-I/AAAAAAAAAz4/yotYe0n0Juc/s1600/IMG_1629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uby1HCFo5_g/TqnR1q269-I/AAAAAAAAAz4/yotYe0n0Juc/s640/IMG_1629.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bJolcB0l-gU/TqnR2EzT41I/AAAAAAAAA0A/fZsNuPdCoCA/s1600/IMG_1637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bJolcB0l-gU/TqnR2EzT41I/AAAAAAAAA0A/fZsNuPdCoCA/s640/IMG_1637.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-5538621997641454099?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5538621997641454099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5538621997641454099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5538621997641454099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5538621997641454099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/new-swimsuit.html' title='New Swimsuit'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A2IhoQPP2Zw/TqnR0omiH2I/AAAAAAAAAzo/NoDuQMBMb4o/s72-c/IMG_1618.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6631762305102427868</id><published>2011-10-26T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T17:05:37.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vancouver Youth Choir Trip</title><content type='html'>So, after a year of being in the sccs youth choir, we finally got to perform somewhere else besides our church. Our leader said we'd only perform at another church if they invited us, and this one church did because their youth sang at sccs and liked the youth so much that they invited us to their church. At first I thought it was in Portland, but we drove over the bridge and into Washington so it was obviously in Vancouver. Our imagination of the church was far off! We expected a church the size of sccs and lots of fobs, but it was a realllllly small church. It kind of sucked cause only people from sccs preached, I really wanted their pastor to preach in Ukrainian. It's weird cause I understood everything they said&amp;nbsp;every time&amp;nbsp;their people spoke, but no one in my group did. I guess growing up with Ukrainian speakers helped me a lot to understand it. They made lunch/dinner for us afterwards which was so good. Our parents make the same stuff and we always complain how it's never good, but when others make it always seems to taste better? We ate (more like devoured the food) and socialized, than we all drove to the park which is along the columbia river but on the Washington side. I've been along the columbia river but on the Oregon side so this was new! You were able to see PDX at a distance which was awesome. This trip made me realize something shocking, that I honestly don't like fobs anymore. Crazy I know!? When someone would see one they would call out for me cause I just drool over their charming looks, but I never really took some thought on how they are on the inside. Good looking on the outside, but unknown on the in? They never socialize with anyone else besides their own groupie. They are beyond&amp;nbsp;independent&amp;nbsp;and don't like to talk with outsiders. I probably would never even be able to hook up with a fob because they only stay within their fob population. I mean, I'm more attracted to the looks of airplanes and can actually fly one unlike fob guys...(if that even makes sense)? *sigh* honestly I'm kind of done with guys right now, well I wouldn't say permanently but just won't worry bout getting with anyone at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair, I always talk about it I know, but just get used to it. I keep finding these awesome boy short haircut pics and I'm just dying to get it cut, but at the same time idk. My problem with long hair is that I can't do anything to it! I mean like styling wise, idk how to curl or do pretty buns or whatever. I'm just so used to gelling and&amp;nbsp;straightening, that's it :/ &amp;amp; honestly the only reason I'm growing it out is not because of the&amp;nbsp;publics&amp;nbsp;opinion, my opinion, or because I want to get married asap (guys prefer girls with long hair, and girls prefer to have long hair at their wedding). Long hair is not me at all, it doesn't show people who I am because on the inside I'm a tomboy and always stick to short hair and feel more comfortable with short hair. I've been growing it out because of one guy (whom I really liked, almost loved) asked me to. And like I said, since I liked and kind of cared bout him, I did (am). Unfortunately, we&amp;nbsp;haven't&amp;nbsp;kept in contact for a long time and my liking for him has died off, so now I have no reason to grow my hair long because I personally don't want to. I've had this same situation before, where this guy I used to date told me to grow out my hair and I did. Once we broke up, I chopped it all off because it wasn't for me. But at the same time, my life-long goal is to look like Kim Kardashian or whoever else who looks like a hot Armenian. And to look like that, I need long beautiful hair which is in the process. Than I can get long fake nails, a fake tan, a pound of makeup, lots of&amp;nbsp;jewelry&amp;nbsp; and look like Snooki &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, Thursday at youth they announced that whoever wanted to get into any ministry in the youth, they were really needing tech people. When I was 12, at sccs they were also offering the younger teens a ministry of their choice to try out and possibly get in to. My choice was in fact the tech, which is in charge of the mixer &amp;amp; video. I remember them showing me how the mixer worked which is huge because it controlled all the speakers, instruments and general sounds of the church. I even got to sit in the back with them during church service to watch how they used the mixer to control the sounds. They never contacted me back bout whether I can help out with them, which I kind of figured they wouldn't and it really made me sad. I know sccs&amp;nbsp;disproves&amp;nbsp;of girls doing anything tech and guitars/drums in the church. It's rather stupid honestly. So I contacted one of the leaders at youth bout whether or not I can try out for the tech at youth, even though I'm a girl. They said of course! Surely no one else wants to do it so I'm really their only choice. I was hoping it wouldn't be awkward the first day of setting up (because I am the only girl) but it went down alright. There isn't as much to do considering it's a small youth room, and we have a small mixer. I was taught which wires went into which speaker and what not, than on to the mixer. The volume controls was rather easy to learn, it's just messing with the EQ is what's hard! Plus the guitarists control their own volumes so that's one less thing to worry about. I just watched how they used it during the worships practice so I didn't have to do much work to be honest. They did say it's nearly impossible to learn how to use the whole mixer within a few hours so I didn't have to worry bout getting it down on the spot, but I will get the hang of it overtime.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully if I'll be doing it for a while and actually know how to do everything on my own, I want to get a custom shirt that says "Underground Youth Tech Crew" but designed all legit. Heck yea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-6631762305102427868?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6631762305102427868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6631762305102427868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6631762305102427868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6631762305102427868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/vancouver-youth-choir-trip.html' title='Vancouver Youth Choir Trip'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1402900459844247191</id><published>2011-10-21T16:32:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T19:30:28.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Timmy</title><content type='html'>So, my cousin-in-law found a turtle along the road when he was driving home from work. It was obviously abandoned or perhaps lost. you generally don't find turtle along the road though, most dead squirrels and possums. They decided to keep it, but it was being too rowdy and it bit their little sons finger real badly so they needed to get rid of it. I was more than happy to take him, his name is Timmy. I've never had an indoor pet I could play with before! He spent his first night in my room and it was so annoying. He kepts making noises when he was walking around and was knocking things over. He's the size of a medium sized plate so he can't do some trouble. I let him out in the backyard at 06:30 and went back to sleep till 11. I found him hidden in the backyard, and I realized he is not meant to be living inside a home. I was thinking of a place to set him free, and the first place that came to mind was Minto-Brown Park. It's foresty and swampy with a huge lake/river. He was freaking out in the cooler that I had put him in when I drove there (with the lid open of course). There was a specific spot I wanted to let him go at, but I didn't realize how far of a walk it was so I took a random trail down to the river. I set him down and he sat there silently, than after a minute he sprinted for his life! He ran into the water as I was shouting out Timmy. My heart dropped cause I thought he had commitied suicide. There's a lot of plants and weeds in the water that I figured he got stuck and suficated. After a few second, I see bubbles and his body squirming through the water like a fish. I realzed he was a water turtle which I shouldv'e known by his hands and feet. They were flat and long unlike land turtles where they're big and stiff. He poped his head out of the water, looked at me, and continued to swim away. It was exactly like this one scene I saw in a movie or cartoon (I don't remember) where the person lets go of a fish, the fish pauses to look back at them and than continues to swim away. It's almost like he silently Thanked me. I'm going to miss Timmy, he was a cute turtle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1402900459844247191?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1402900459844247191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1402900459844247191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1402900459844247191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1402900459844247191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/timmy.html' title='Timmy'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8390949755065764021</id><published>2011-10-21T16:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T19:31:45.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wish I had a husband so that I can someone to wear sexy lace lingerie for. I just love Victoria's Secret stuff, but I obviously have no one to wear it for. It moments like these where it sucks being single.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8390949755065764021?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8390949755065764021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8390949755065764021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8390949755065764021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8390949755065764021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-wish-i-had-husband-so-that-i-can-wear.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3715527806606364228</id><published>2011-10-20T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T14:45:13.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>iPhone</title><content type='html'>So, I got something I never thought I would get...the iPhone. The 4th to be exact, didn't want to spend extra on the 4S. I got a 16gb at WalMart for $117. I bet it will go down to $50 next year but whatever, technology upgrades so fast it's nearly impossible to keep up. I wanted to get a newer Blackberry, but the only kind they had was lame cause it slides and I don't like sliding phones considring I text a lot. I'm already used to using the program cause I've had an iTouch for years which is the same concept cept the only thing my iTouch doesn't have are cameras, phone service, &amp;amp; 3G. Once it randomly shut off when I was at the cafe and I knew it was charged, I just couldn't figure out how to start it up again. I asked everyone in the cafe but no one knew! I held down the home &amp;amp; shut off button for the longest time &amp;amp; than it started back up. I was so worried I'd have to exchange it already. I started to get real teary when my Blackberry disconnected its service though, I've had it for 4 years &amp;amp; never had a problem with it. It was my baby. I cried because I was going to miss, but also because of I never really realized how stupid it was that I wad so attached to my Blackberry. I couldn't tell whether it was simply really handy to me or that I had idolized it. *sigh* It's nice to have internet anywhere I go now though, but I can't use it much or at all cause I only get 200mb every month so I don't want to be charged extra. But just like my iTouch, I try my best to only use wifi. &lt;br /&gt;I've also already dropped it once which made a tiny dent :/ I did purchase some things for it such as a different cooler back plate, a clear case &amp;amp; a screen protector. I wanted a white iPhone but my sister already got the white one and we seem to always get the same phones so I stuck to black. I despise when people talk about the iPhone though, as if that's the only thing there is to talk about. I still miss my Blackberry &amp;amp; its little red flashing light. How sad v_v&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3715527806606364228?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3715527806606364228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3715527806606364228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3715527806606364228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3715527806606364228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/iphone.html' title='iPhone'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2402622284602522367</id><published>2011-10-15T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T23:05:15.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shop,Shop,Concert!</title><content type='html'>So, an Imprint concert was coming up in Vancouver and I had to go! I literally go to all of their shows that are local. Vancouver isn't exactly local but it's been almost a year since they last had a concert, so I just had to go. I was gonna go by myself but honestly didn't want to so I invited my lil cousin. My sister was randomly coming for the weekend too so she joined. My sister wanted to do some shopping at Bridgeport &amp;amp; Washington Square Mall before we headed to the concert though. We went to Bridgeport and than my brother in law calls saying he wanted to go to the concert too. My cousin was gonna go and he was gonna go with her but she couldn't at the last minute. We were at Washington Square Mall and my sister really wanted her husband to go so she decided to go all the way back to Salem to pick him up. An hour passed and she comes back without him cause she was stuck in heavy traffic and only made it down a couple cities. So he drove to us. My head was spinning and I was stressing out real bad, I hate when such things happen and knowing we'll be late to the concert. It was not what I was hoping for or expected. He eventually came and we speeded to the church. We got lost at first but eventually found our way. Once we arrived they were doing like a half-time thing where the Africa Missionary Leader (It was one of those Africa fundraising concerts) was talking about their previous trips and what they plan on doing this year and what not. It went on for a while but than Imprint started playing again finally. They played a few of their old songs and new ones which I was looking forward to the most. I get so hyped up at their shows, it's just so awesome. One of the songs I finally went up to the very front of the stage (towards the side) with my cousin! I was hoping people would join us...but no one did, a lot of people actually didn't even see us!? Even the ones who sat up front! I was asking people if they saw us and they said no but if they did they said they would've joined us for sure. That crowd was sooo boring, I felt like I was at a church service rather than a concert. After that song, one of the camera guys who I know asked us to back up a bit cause they needed room to record the show. Are you freakin kidding me? They do a concert all the freakin time! I don't care about your recording, do it another time. Can't I just enjoy the show by hopping up front like I always have? Plus it looks a billion times better when theres an upbeat crowd up front in video rather than people standing like solders at their seats. I was upset, we went back to our seats and didn't go back up front. I was utterly upset actually, this was probably my least favourite show of theirs cause of the boring crowd and you couldn't even enjoy yourself when you're up front cause you get told by the camera crew to back up? I was singing along to every song out loud at my seat too but the girls in the row right in front of me kept giving me weird looks? Wow. Ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, after the show me and my cousin socialized with everyone and I met quite a few of my Facebook friends I've never met before. I was planning on leaving right away but my bro-in-law wanted to hang out with Ruva, the&amp;nbsp;bass player&amp;nbsp;of the band, his bff. So we had to wait for them to pack everything and what not. A lot of people left and it was rather empty but there was still a small crowd. They invited us for tea in one of the back rooms of the church. We were being shy considering we don't know anybody besides Ruva. Well I knew half the people cause I go to their church, but only one person I'm really close with. We were all sitting in there...it was awkward. Like you felt this tention in the room that was weird. Everyones sitting there quietly and awkwardly. One guy was telling stories that led to talking about the iPhone which omg, no one freakin cares about. We were in there for 5min. and bounced to the restaraunt with Ruva. We noticed some of the people that were in there stepped out too cause it was just awkward and boring!? Man. We went to iHop and there was a group of kids from the church so we all sat together. It was super chill and much funner than that tea party no doubt. I forgot I was in Washington territory which meant...Sales Tax T_T there goes my extra .50 cents down the drain for a state I don't even live in.&lt;br /&gt;We finally headed home, I dropped off my little cousin than got home at 01:30. It was a rather good crazy day/night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TWs-uqPrl0U?rel=0" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2402622284602522367?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2402622284602522367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2402622284602522367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2402622284602522367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2402622284602522367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/shopshopconcert.html' title='Shop,Shop,Concert!'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/TWs-uqPrl0U/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7013523431541491053</id><published>2011-10-12T16:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T16:28:53.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>City of Ember Poncho</title><content type='html'>So, as I watched one of my favourite movies City of Ember, I remembered how much I wanted Lina's poncho/cape in the movie. It's just so eye catching! The original used in the movie is&amp;nbsp;obviously&amp;nbsp;sold, but I really want to attempt to make my own if I can. It's going to be tough :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.yourprops.com/norm-4db01a1d84e6b-City+of+Ember+(2008).jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7013523431541491053?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7013523431541491053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7013523431541491053' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7013523431541491053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7013523431541491053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/city-of-ember-poncho.html' title='City of Ember Poncho'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4433032259527979176</id><published>2011-10-12T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T16:24:31.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cluster</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsikp3Ycop1qg2w78o1_500.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="toothandnail:my entry for the upcoming issue of XCB" src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsm6bg54o31qzqrypo1_500.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsbinwm3jL1qfze4lo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-4433032259527979176?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4433032259527979176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4433032259527979176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4433032259527979176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4433032259527979176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/cluster.html' title='Cluster'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7085685959693279904</id><published>2011-10-11T17:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T17:08:30.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Pinned Image" src="http://d30opm7hsgivgh.cloudfront.net/upload/177303922_BfrcAF82_c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Pinned Image" src="http://d30opm7hsgivgh.cloudfront.net/upload/197092960_BqK9Z6B7_c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7085685959693279904?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7085685959693279904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7085685959693279904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7085685959693279904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7085685959693279904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/pinned-image.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7330355752124978183</id><published>2011-10-10T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T12:51:14.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moody Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/15296368/tumblr_lr4uxdsStn1qej606o1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lr4uxdsstn1qej606o1_500_large" border="0" height="320" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/15296368/tumblr_lr4uxdsStn1qej606o1_500_large.jpg" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, this past week I was on my period which of course is nothing new, besides the fact that I rarely ever talk about being on my period. What makes this one significant is that it's given me my first mood swings ever and I absolutely hate it. The only thing I usually get when my period is about to start is being bloated, but never cramps, mood swings, and whatever else comes with the package. I did get cramps once from it in my life and it was a living nightmare, it truly felt like I was being stabbed 100 times. I had to drag my body downstairs to my mum while I was sobbing in pain to ask for medicine cause I didn't know what the hell was going on with my body (the period started the morning after, &amp;amp; since I've never had cramps I was just confuzzled). My sister &amp;amp; bro-in-law were in town for the weekend so we went to Woodburn Outlet. I missed working there, but at the same time I kind of don't. We went to Arby's after and my bro-in-law was teasing me and wouldn't give me my burger when I was starving to death. I almost started crying? He even noticed it, and gave me my burger in&amp;nbsp;embarrassment. I never cry when I don't get my food!? NEVER!? I knew I was having a mood swing. Than this guy won't stop flirting with me and telling me he has a crush on me and wants to go on a date and I really don't want to. All these guys won't leave me alone, I hate all this attention from them. I miss not being pretty so that guys won't try to get in my pants all the time. I feel so racist by saying I don't like American guys cause I feel like that's all they want to do is get diggity. I know if I went any further with an American they would just use me which has happened before and I regret every second of it. Sleeping around is not my thing, I want that perfect boyfriend who will become my perfect husband like it should be. Not that type of guy who I become friends with than starts talking dirty and just wants to drop his load on me. I miss my Polish buddy, h was nearly perfect to me. I liked him soooooo much, he still is all I think about in my sleep which is sad. I feel like Snooki when she was crying over Gioni. He hasn't talked to me ever since I saw him in San Diego, the only thing he told me after SD was that he would get upset if I ever settled in my town and moved on with someone else. I would never settle in my ghetto town, but I will definitely be moving on with someone else. That perfect German commercial pilot (I wish). Thinking about all these guys is making my head hurt, all I want to do is lay in bed all day but I won't make this that big of a deal to get depressed over. The only thing I'm depressed about is how distant I've become with God, that's what&amp;nbsp;truly&amp;nbsp;breaks my heart. I feel&amp;nbsp;embarrassed&amp;nbsp;and ashamed going to church cause I don't get that connection with Him like I used to. And it's soooo hard for me to get it back because I'm still fighting this one sin that has grown so deep inside of me. I know I won't be able to get rid of it without God, but it's holding me back from even asking Him for help. Everyone else is useless cause all they would say is "Pray about it" which like I said, is too difficult to do with a meaning.&lt;br /&gt;I just need to get back to my old ways. Stop saying the 'F' word so much. Avoid guys. Stay in touch with Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is for you Polish guy v_v&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="199" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jRBO_UqbAp8?rel=0" width="250"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7330355752124978183?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7330355752124978183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7330355752124978183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7330355752124978183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7330355752124978183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/moody-week.html' title='Moody Week'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/jRBO_UqbAp8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6985410951884003802</id><published>2011-10-09T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T12:52:24.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rosette Necklace</title><content type='html'>So, I went to Jo-Ann's fabrics to get a holiday kit to make like I mentioned in the previous post. They didn't have any Autumn type craft kits, nor Halloween. They did have a few Christmas craft kits, like this big Christmas wreath that's made of felt. I wanted to get it but I gave it some thought, Halloween &amp;amp; Thanksgiving&amp;nbsp;haven't&amp;nbsp;even passed yet and I don't want to rush the time. I'll buy it when it's the right time. I walked around a bit and found this awesome rosette necklace kits (yes, it came with everything in the pic). I wanted to buy shades of black &amp;amp; white fabric so I can make one of em, but no one really knew what kind of fabric to get so I just got the kit. Didn't turn out too bad, I took apart one of my bracelets cause it has those dark pearl beads which matched perfectly. Need to add some sparkle to it. Model Pose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fgx0NGlODU8/TpH7a0ZE-oI/AAAAAAAAAyA/tHZjYWfH4AI/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fgx0NGlODU8/TpH7a0ZE-oI/AAAAAAAAAyA/tHZjYWfH4AI/s640/IMG_1543.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-6985410951884003802?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6985410951884003802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6985410951884003802' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6985410951884003802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6985410951884003802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/rosette-necklace.html' title='Rosette Necklace'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fgx0NGlODU8/TpH7a0ZE-oI/AAAAAAAAAyA/tHZjYWfH4AI/s72-c/IMG_1543.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8066353067527585937</id><published>2011-10-05T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T19:29:30.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini Pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PP_pZJ-LpoA/To0SVIwmAWI/AAAAAAAAAx8/LpyR6dN0_KI/s1600/IMG_1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PP_pZJ-LpoA/To0SVIwmAWI/AAAAAAAAAx8/LpyR6dN0_KI/s320/IMG_1532.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I need to start decorating my room with SOME kind of fall&amp;nbsp;decor. I went to Safeway and they had these&amp;nbsp;miniature&amp;nbsp;pumpkins which are super cute, 3 for $1.98! I got 2 orange ones and 1 white one with orange stripes, it was going to look cute in my room. There's one side of my desk that I like to decorate with seasonal stuff so it was going to look good on it. I than went to WalMart to buy a small candle, and I had a great place to put it at too! Inside the pumpkin, genius! I was having a real tough time debating which kind of scent I wanted, there were way too many good ones. I came down to Pumpkin Pie and Warm Apple Cider, Pumpkin Pie smelled sweeter and I get sick of sweeter scents fast so I went with the Warm Apple Cider and am&amp;nbsp;satisfied. Next trip is to the craft store, I found some cool Autumn craft ideas so hopefully I can pull it off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8066353067527585937?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8066353067527585937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8066353067527585937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8066353067527585937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8066353067527585937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/mini-pumpkins.html' title='Mini Pumpkins'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PP_pZJ-LpoA/To0SVIwmAWI/AAAAAAAAAx8/LpyR6dN0_KI/s72-c/IMG_1532.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3001379692144920197</id><published>2011-10-04T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T22:31:50.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasonal Crafts</title><content type='html'>So, today was my last day working at White|Black after 6 months. I still clearly remember the day I got hired and how excited I was to work my first job, I can't believe it's been 6 months.&amp;nbsp;It was utterly sad hugging everyone goodbye, I really couldn't believe I was actually leaving.&amp;nbsp;I never even had thought about leaving so soon, I really wanted to work there for at least a year. But of course with the way some things were going down with the company, I really didn't want to stress about it everyday. I'm really excited to start at Pier 1 though cause I can obtain experience in stock for future reference. It's rather unfortunate I can't use the "I work Sunday morning" when I really don't as an excuse to go to my church in Portland. Since Pier 1 is local, my mum would probably drop by more often and I wouldn't want her dropping by after church to find out I wasn't even working Sunday morning but instead went to a church I'm more comfortable going to than hers (which I can tell you now, it makes her very angry).&lt;br /&gt;I went to Under Armour before work to visit a new friend and buy my very first pair of running shoes. I was debating between these black pairs and these gray/blue ones that they just got. I really liked the design of their newest pair though so I got them. I'm excited to test em out on the track! I love that Desmond (new friend) calls me 'mate', I always refer to my buddies as mates but never hear anyone say that now a days. He dropped by my store after his shift and I tried teaching him electro dancing, but like everyone else I tried teaching, he had failed miserably.&lt;br /&gt;In class in the morning, we were watching a movie about Charles Darwin. I realllllly dislike my Human Evolution class cause it's literally about made up bullshit that people actually believe. But I have to pull through it cause I need that Anthropology credit. During the movie I was on my iTouch the whole time, refreshing the live feed on the new Apple updates and new iPhone. I'm thinking bout getting the iPhone 4 cause it's now $99, but I still really like the droid phones cause of there huge screens &amp;lt;3 but idk.&lt;br /&gt;I really want to start doing seasonal crafts and since it's Autumn, I really want to do some stuff for the Fall. It just sucks that my crazy craftsy ex-neighbour doesn't live next door anymore. She would always give me a crap load of seasonal craft kits to do that I never even asked for. It helped me stay productive though and make some really awesome things. Now that she's not there anymore, I'm not sure where to look for cool Fall craft ideas besides the craft stores....that remind me that I should probably go to one ha&lt;br /&gt;This song has been stuck in my head all day. I don't listen to Adele, but I always listen to these guys' covers of songs cause I like how they sing em a billion times better than the originals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="131" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mE-YUZZ8kIA?rel=0" width="200"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3001379692144920197?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3001379692144920197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3001379692144920197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3001379692144920197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3001379692144920197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/seasonal-crafts.html' title='Seasonal Crafts'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/mE-YUZZ8kIA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1774844509760937371</id><published>2011-10-01T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T20:45:50.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lacrosse</title><content type='html'>So, I've always had a thing for lacrosse ever since middle school when we'd play it in P.E. I was&amp;nbsp;surprisingly&amp;nbsp;really really good at it, all the kids wanted me in their team. I just have so much fun throwing around a ball and catching it by a stick. I wanted to join a High School Lacrosse team, though mine didn't have any sports, I was able to join another High Schools team. But I was a Junior by the time I realized I could join a team, which was kind of late cause it's best to start as a Freshman. I pretty much never got to play in a team as I had hoped for. My parents went to some guests house, and I thought why don't I go buy that lacrosse stick+ball I've always been eyeing at Dick's Sporting Goods to keep myself entertained. I did and I love it, it's a beautiful shiny red colour. The one I got is meant for guys, but the woman ones looked lame and they were the same price, so whatever. I want to buy a second one soon so that I could play with someone at the park rather than by myself. I saw a guy that works at Dick's Sporting Goods, that I remembered from last winter when I was getting my new skis. We'd always joke at each other (flirt pretty much). I didn't think he still worked there but&amp;nbsp;apparently&amp;nbsp;he does, and he definitely recognized me when I came in. At the register, he was speeding up to ring his customer so that I can go to his register rather than the other ladies. He said "Hey darling, find everything ok?" whoow whoow whoow, don't Darling me. He asked if I was in a lacrosse team but unfortunately I'm not, I honestly don't even know anyone who plays lacrosse. Than he proceeded with a "Have a good one Hun ;)" whoow whoow whoow, don't Hun me. Why do I seem to always get hit on at sport stores!? I admit, I always thought he was kind of cute, but no thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V2qzM1PXHyE/TofdwQ8ZD3I/AAAAAAAAAx4/GPnt4y8uHJE/s1600/IMG_1509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V2qzM1PXHyE/TofdwQ8ZD3I/AAAAAAAAAx4/GPnt4y8uHJE/s640/IMG_1509.JPG" width="370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-1774844509760937371?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1774844509760937371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1774844509760937371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1774844509760937371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1774844509760937371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/lacrosse.html' title='Lacrosse'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V2qzM1PXHyE/TofdwQ8ZD3I/AAAAAAAAAx4/GPnt4y8uHJE/s72-c/IMG_1509.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1864212234805825495</id><published>2011-10-01T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T00:00:11.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You vant to raceeee</title><content type='html'>So, I went to conditioning first thing in the morning. I realized that I've actually never owned legit tennis shoes before, I'v been doing all sorts of sports (mostly running) but always wore just plain shoes that I usually wear on a daily basis. I did some searching online for running shoes, Adidas, Nike, Puma, &amp;amp; Under Armour. I'm very picky when it comes to tennis shoes, I don't want them to look bulky, I like fitted, and the colour should match all my clothes. I love Pumas designs cause they are like skin tight and have a nice shape to em, unfortunately Woodburn Outlet doesn't have Puma anymore :( I went to work earlier so that I could take some time to shop at the athletic stores at our mall. During my drive to work, a guy in a big white pick-up drove past me. He looks like ALL the guys that drive big pick-ups, with brown scruffy facial hair and sunglasses. I than passed him and did a head bob, he knew it was evolving into a race. We kept passing each other, almost going 90mph. He passed me and pointed at me while I was laughing so hard, but eventually he ended up beating me and I took my exit. This hasn't been my first time racing a guy in a big pick-up that all look the same. First I went to Nike cause I wanted to get sandals and a specific pair of sandals called Gladiators that look so legit. They didn't have regular sandals, but they did have a pair of Gladiators that were too small and the only pair they had :( So I went to Adidas, they had lame sandals. I looked through their clearance tops and found two awesome ones, it was buy one get one %50 off so my total was $10, score! Than I went to Under Armour which is like my least favourite athletic store/brand though I rarely go there. So I'm greeted by a gentleman and I asked him where their sandals were. They didn't have the style I was looking for, but they had these super comfy flip-flops for $10 and I just had to get them. The associate noticed I had braces and said he had a bunch of wax (for braces) in his car he's been trying to get rid of, and if I wanted them. I can get free wax whenever I wanted to, but I said sure. He dropped them off at my store and he stuck around to chat, our store was dead anyways like always. I love having company I know in my store to talk to, I just like to be out of my working mode for a few minutes. Though I met him just hours ago, he called my store to give me his number! Meeting new people who will potentially become your friends happens so fast sometimes. We made an appointment for Wednesday at his store to help me find a good pair of running shoes, I can smell the fresh rubber shoes already! Exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1864212234805825495?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1864212234805825495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1864212234805825495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1864212234805825495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1864212234805825495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/10/you-vant-to-raceeee.html' title='You vant to raceeee'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8364049063258837060</id><published>2011-09-27T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T23:51:08.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I really like this shot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Even though it turned out supper&amp;nbsp;blurry, I actually really like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me &amp;amp; my dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLX3N7OwN-U/ToLD1H63I3I/AAAAAAAAAx0/KP45ioXP6hE/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLX3N7OwN-U/ToLD1H63I3I/AAAAAAAAAx0/KP45ioXP6hE/s640/IMG_1462.JPG" width="582" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-8364049063258837060?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8364049063258837060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8364049063258837060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8364049063258837060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8364049063258837060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-really-like-this-shot.html' title='I really like this shot'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLX3N7OwN-U/ToLD1H63I3I/AAAAAAAAAx0/KP45ioXP6hE/s72-c/IMG_1462.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1688857761176534184</id><published>2011-09-27T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T23:08:36.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm up for adobtion</title><content type='html'>So, I went to my only two classes I physically have to go to which are Human Evolution and Health/Fitness. I like the first day of classes of the term because all they do is review the syllabus and make you introduce yourself if they require you to. I have a strong feeling Human Evolution will be a tough class to focus in, the instructor is pretty strict on you paying attention in class, which makes me want to pay less attention. Health/Fitness class will probably be tough too considering it&amp;#39;s a high level class (293), but we&amp;#39;ll see. I can already tell my Sales class online is gonna be a bitch. My tourist class online seems kind of cool though, but I bet we will have a lot of assignments on picking places and making a long power point on it. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll keep looking for a job in&lt;br&gt;the food industry, such as a barista or waitress. I&amp;#39;m not gonna try so hard though cause I told my mum this term is gonna be really tough and work will be in the way of my studying &amp;amp; what not.&lt;br&gt;That reminds me, I think I&amp;#39;ve said this before but I shall again, my mum is psycho. Pardon my french and I know it&amp;#39;s rude but she&amp;#39;s actually Fuckin Crazy. She asked if I took my tragus out which heck no I&amp;#39;m not, when than she says the Devil lives in this world (true) and every worldly thing you like, means you like him as well. Uhhh no. The Devil living in this world has nothing to do with me, I didn&amp;#39;t bring him here nor will I ever accept him anything more than a douchbag. My mum just won&amp;#39;t leave me alone with all her misunderstood bullcrap. I told her just cause I have a 3rd hole in my ear doesn&amp;#39;t mean I&amp;#39;m going to hell. She said if I don&amp;#39;t take it out, than she would start talking and treating me differently (in a not good way). How about she doesn&amp;#39;t talk to me at all. I wouldn&amp;#39;t say she ruins my life, but she definitely makes it very difficult for me to live in peace. &lt;br&gt;I left to work early cause I didn&amp;#39;t want to hear another word from her mouth. I saw an airplane fly by real quick due to the oncoming rain storm. It made me cry, I felt like that pilot in the plane, running away from an angry force. &lt;br&gt;When I move on eventually, I have no intentions in keeping in touch with her. If she makes me seem like such a criminal, than fine. God knows me better than she ever will. &lt;br&gt;I am up for adobtion, though I&amp;#39;m 18, I beg of you to take me away from here. I&amp;#39;m a great cleaner, &amp;amp; I do obey (when it&amp;#39;s reasonable, not something like taking an earing out). I prefer no younger children in the house, for I do not provide babysitting services. I&amp;#39;m very indapendent so I won&amp;#39;t be up your butt, but am and will be a loving daughter. I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1688857761176534184?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1688857761176534184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1688857761176534184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1688857761176534184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1688857761176534184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-up-for-adobtion.html' title='I&apos;m up for adobtion'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8264529929092093506</id><published>2011-09-26T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T19:35:27.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Mosquito Bites</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, when we were at Silver Falls and the sun had set, the&amp;nbsp;mosquitoes&amp;nbsp;came out and attacked. Literally.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yuh, all those bumps, mosquito bites. It looks like a dog chewed on my legs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*caution,ugly pictures of feet/legs*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x6Giin06WUs/ToE2FiOWmII/AAAAAAAAAxo/fDp9snbSnvw/s1600/IMG_1463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x6Giin06WUs/ToE2FiOWmII/AAAAAAAAAxo/fDp9snbSnvw/s640/IMG_1463.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wK_Dgf-Dvm4/ToE2F6TC_hI/AAAAAAAAAxs/NJHp7N9Toyk/s1600/IMG_1464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="454" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wK_Dgf-Dvm4/ToE2F6TC_hI/AAAAAAAAAxs/NJHp7N9Toyk/s640/IMG_1464.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MmxMBi3Hb6U/ToE2Gby4wDI/AAAAAAAAAxw/AMYsEAUzWy4/s1600/IMG_1465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MmxMBi3Hb6U/ToE2Gby4wDI/AAAAAAAAAxw/AMYsEAUzWy4/s640/IMG_1465.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There wayyyy more than seen here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8264529929092093506?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8264529929092093506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8264529929092093506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8264529929092093506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8264529929092093506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/crazy-mosquito-bites.html' title='Crazy Mosquito Bites'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x6Giin06WUs/ToE2FiOWmII/AAAAAAAAAxo/fDp9snbSnvw/s72-c/IMG_1463.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8366328511403723028</id><published>2011-09-25T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T21:50:54.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silver Falls with the Fam Bam</title><content type='html'>So, I went to work Saturday morning than to Silver Falls! The whole sccs youth was there as well as our family friends. I hung out with the youth a bit, we went to take a group picture under the water fall and played volleyball. After chilling with them for a bit I went back to chill with my family for the rest of the night. We also played some hardcore volleyball and soccer. My best friend Roxanne &amp;amp; Roman were there, it was so good to see their faces. I&amp;#39;ve been getting a lot of compliments on how different I looked (in a good way)(once again). I&amp;#39;ve been told I got slightly skinnier and it was noticable. Well hopefully all that jogging is finally kicking in, &amp;amp; I don&amp;#39;t remember the last time I had dinner cause I always worked. So I got skinnier in a good &amp;amp; bad way. The top of my teeth are also shifting forward, braces in action. My bite is really off but that&amp;#39;s just part of the process I suppose. But it makes my lips more lucious which is good!&lt;br&gt;Me &amp;amp; Roxanne were cuddling in front of the fire, it made me wish I had a boyfriend to cuddle with like that too. As much as I&amp;#39;d like one as always, I have to be very patient cause there&amp;#39;s no one for me in Oregon. It was funny cause one of the older guys asked how my vication to San Diego was. I didn&amp;#39;t know my dad was telling his buds that I went there? I told him it was good and that I really liked it. I do miss San Diego, but cause of the environment rather than seeing a certain someone. &lt;br&gt;My mum saw my tragus piercing when we were at Silver Falls, I forgot that it was in her view but it was too late. She flipped, but I&amp;#39;m hoping she&amp;#39;ll just forget about it and let me leave it in. I didn&amp;#39;t pay $25 for a hole in my ear if she rips it off. &lt;br&gt;I really missed hanging out with our family friends and what not. Having to work every Saturday, I always miss out on family trips to the park and what not. Even though I&amp;#39;m quitting my job, I&amp;#39;ll be getting another job right away so my weekends will continue being booked with work and homework v_v so homo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8366328511403723028?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8366328511403723028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8366328511403723028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8366328511403723028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8366328511403723028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/silver-falls-with-fam-bam_25.html' title='Silver Falls with the Fam Bam'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6265554529392128541</id><published>2011-09-21T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T22:16:31.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oktoberfest/Klamath Falls/Work</title><content type='html'>So, I'll just combine the things I've done within the past week together.&lt;br /&gt;Oktoberfest was going down which I totally forgot about and really didn't want to miss it. I went there around noon before work, cause the mall I work at is only 10min. from the place, which ended up being more because I got lost on the way to work! Anyways, I went by myself just like I did to the State Fair cause I have no friends who like to hang out. Just like the Sate Fair, it's like tradition for me to go, even if I have to go by myself. Oktoberfest is neat even though it's only a couple blocks in&amp;nbsp;circumference, I just like that it's so Euro. The one thing I always have to get there is Corn on the Cob! It's huge, dipped in butter, and for only a buck! I wish I bought 5 of them, but one really fills you up. I also had a huge ice-cream cone and cotton candy which I&amp;nbsp;haven't&amp;nbsp;had in a long time. I was also debating whether or not to buy this funny chicken hat, but I would only wear it at the fest and never in public anywhere else so I didn't. One thing I always do when I'm there is go to St.Marys Catholic Church which is probably the prettiest churches in all of Oregon. They always have a German choir sing songs during the fest, I really like sitting there and listening to them sing. After sitting there for an hour, I walked around some more than headed to work.&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago I went to Klamath Falls with my sister &amp;amp; brother-in-law cause their having a room mate move in with them so they needed help to clean around the place a bit. We only stayed for the night but got a lot of cleaning done. My sister gave me her Proactive stuff that she barely used, unworn Bump Its, and a bunch of makeup. I was actually debating on buying Proactive but now I got it free! You can also see in the previous post bout me wearing a Bump It, it's honestly not as easy to do as they make it seem on TV. It just really baffled me how when I was flying from San Diego, I saw Crater Lake from the plane, but now I'm by Crater Lake looking at the planes above. You see a lot of airline jets fly by in Klamath Falls, and there's always one flying behind another! They just happen to be going the same direction at the same time :) My co-worker is going to Vegas in the morning, I told her how crazy it is to sleep in your town, than wake up in Vegas. It just blows my mind, that's why I love flight and travel so much, just being in places so far apart and so fast.&lt;br /&gt;I broke the news to my boss that I wanted to quit, and I tried telling her the best I could as of why I do. It's not cause I can't drive that far anymore or cause of school, I just needed to get out of there. The way the district, regional, &amp;amp; head managers run the company is absurd. I may be wrong, but the things they want from us is ridiculous. They care more about getting customers information to send out e-mails to them than they do on how much we sell. It's not my fault the customer doesn't want to get e-mails from us but according to the managers, I will loose my job cause of that? Than screw it, I'm out. I didn't sign up to be some kind of advertiser, I signed up to be selling stuff. They just don't understand our situation, that we are an outlet store and have a heavy amount of International customers. So we won't be making as much money as the front-line stores, and won't be getting e-mails from customers who don't speak English and /or don't even have our store in their country so it'd be pointless. The higher up managers are just complete noobs and I simply can't be working under them anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-6265554529392128541?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6265554529392128541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6265554529392128541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6265554529392128541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6265554529392128541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/oktoberfestklamath-fallswork.html' title='Oktoberfest/Klamath Falls/Work'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3866137464324469329</id><published>2011-09-21T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T22:17:06.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bump It</title><content type='html'>So, I've done a few poofs in my past, my cousin would usually poof my hair in the back for special events. It just gives the hair more volume I guess you could say. Well when I was at my sisters place, she gave me her Bump Its that shes never used before! She did one on me and it looks fantastic! We failed to do a Snooki Poof, but we got a Russian looking one down. It kind of makes me feel like a Russian mum though, with the big poofy hair? idk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_PuhurIwO2c/TnpYr9xn9dI/AAAAAAAAAxg/PcjpBnj7SJs/s1600/IMG_1430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_PuhurIwO2c/TnpYr9xn9dI/AAAAAAAAAxg/PcjpBnj7SJs/s640/IMG_1430.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tciqay0nNo8/TnpYsNQOWbI/AAAAAAAAAxk/CZKC7EblPg0/s1600/IMG_1438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tciqay0nNo8/TnpYsNQOWbI/AAAAAAAAAxk/CZKC7EblPg0/s640/IMG_1438.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-3866137464324469329?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3866137464324469329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3866137464324469329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3866137464324469329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3866137464324469329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/bump-it.html' title='Bump It'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_PuhurIwO2c/TnpYr9xn9dI/AAAAAAAAAxg/PcjpBnj7SJs/s72-c/IMG_1430.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2927970849789256040</id><published>2011-09-18T21:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T21:01:33.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Want this washroom in my future house!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ljv6v3h7BH1qbkj4so1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2927970849789256040?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2927970849789256040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2927970849789256040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2927970849789256040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2927970849789256040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/want-this-washroom-in-my-future-house.html' title='Want this washroom in my future house!!!!'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2947152476395721826</id><published>2011-09-16T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T16:51:14.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the longest jewelry type piece did you have on for?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nc_vu_h5OSA/TnPgwbUnTmI/AAAAAAAAAxc/WdC4ScAT-YE/s1600/2011+September+16+-+16.39.37.509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nc_vu_h5OSA/TnPgwbUnTmI/AAAAAAAAAxc/WdC4ScAT-YE/s320/2011+September+16+-+16.39.37.509.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So, when I was around 13, I had a WWJD bracelet on for months, as well as KahNeeTa&amp;nbsp;waterslide&amp;nbsp;entry bracelet. I've always wanted a necklace to wear forever, but&amp;nbsp;haven't&amp;nbsp;found the one yet. I had this black rope bracelet on for 3 months already, since the 19th of June. Pretty much the whole Summer, so to my trips to the beach, parks, work, &amp;amp; San Diego, it was on the whole ride. But I think it's that time to cut it off, I always seem to get rid of it after the 3rd month just cause that's long enough for it to get really warn out. What's the longest&amp;nbsp;jewelry&amp;nbsp;type piece did you have on for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2947152476395721826?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2947152476395721826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2947152476395721826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2947152476395721826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2947152476395721826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/whats-longest-you-had-bracelet-on-for.html' title='What&apos;s the longest jewelry type piece did you have on for?'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nc_vu_h5OSA/TnPgwbUnTmI/AAAAAAAAAxc/WdC4ScAT-YE/s72-c/2011+September+16+-+16.39.37.509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2408265905804729624</id><published>2011-09-15T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T23:00:12.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trench Coats &amp; Scarves</title><content type='html'>So, at work I was saying how I hadn't seen rain in so long cause it's been sunny pretty much the whole Summer. The next our, bam, it starts pouring outside! It brought a smile to my face, I&amp;nbsp;haven't&amp;nbsp;seen water fall from the sky in so long. I personally hate rain, but it's such a good feeling knowing that all the dirt from the streets is finally being washed down and all the trees are being watered. It stopped and the sun came back out, but the trees looked so much greener!&amp;nbsp;Autumn&amp;nbsp;is I guess my second favourite season, first is Winter, least is Spring. Oregonians love dressing warm, cause we do in fact have more warmer clothes than Summer type clothes cause it's simply always cold &amp;amp; wet here. I'm a big sweater/jacket person so I need to right weather to wear them. One thing I used to always do as a kid when it rains is colour in my colouring book at my desk, while listening to jazz, and drinking something hot. Yuh I was an unusual kid but I very much enjoyed my time. I absolutely hate not having a fire place, my parents always have the heater on and I don't like it cause natural heat differs so much (in a good way) to&amp;nbsp;artificial&amp;nbsp;heat (not in a good way).&lt;br /&gt;I really want to start trench coat shopping on ebay, they have some of the coolest trench coats ever. I'm a huge military style coat person too which they obviously have! Here's pics of a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="http://img01.taobaocdn.com/imgextra/i1/413828225/T2n08xXdNXXXXXXXXX_!!413828225.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.alibaba.com/img/pb/219/484/270/1286764171222_hz-cnmyalibaba-web2_35412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="1.jpg" border="0" height="320" src="http://img.alibaba.com/img/pb/219/484/270/1286764171222_hz-cnmyalibaba-web2_35412.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="eBay Image Hosting at www.auctiva.com" height="400" src="http://img.auctiva.com/imgdata/4/4/0/7/5/2/webimg/459830472_o.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss161/jpstyle4u/B6/9765b.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yeay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2408265905804729624?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2408265905804729624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2408265905804729624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2408265905804729624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2408265905804729624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/trench-coats-sweaters.html' title='Trench Coats &amp; Scarves'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss161/jpstyle4u/B6/th_9765b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-672402432971020354</id><published>2011-09-14T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T14:53:11.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I would of liked this pic if I were looking at the camera ~_~*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YgkWk0_FzwU/TnEiPuE0qOI/AAAAAAAAAxU/SzlsM6pt-MU/s1600/IMG_1326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YgkWk0_FzwU/TnEiPuE0qOI/AAAAAAAAAxU/SzlsM6pt-MU/s640/IMG_1326.JPG" width="356" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-672402432971020354?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/672402432971020354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=672402432971020354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/672402432971020354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/672402432971020354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-would-of-liked-this-pic-if-i-were.html' title='I would of liked this pic if I were looking at the camera ~_~*'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YgkWk0_FzwU/TnEiPuE0qOI/AAAAAAAAAxU/SzlsM6pt-MU/s72-c/IMG_1326.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4997052612706704322</id><published>2011-09-14T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T14:54:07.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Haunting my Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h1I2XlWmXDY/TnEibXRQPsI/AAAAAAAAAxY/IOBDhtR56ys/s1600/dp2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="302" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h1I2XlWmXDY/TnEibXRQPsI/AAAAAAAAAxY/IOBDhtR56ys/s400/dp2.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, this guy has been in my dreams every night since leaving my trip to San Diego. At first I thought it was normal to have someone you recently saw in your dream, but this just won't stop. First it was alright, but now I'm declaring that he's literally haunting all my dreams. Everywhere I go, he's there. Everything I do, he's there to do with me. Last night (in the dream) we were sitting in downtown on a bench simply watching people, with his arm around my waist. We didn't speak. I looked at him through my&amp;nbsp;peripheral&amp;nbsp;vision and something about him was off, his eyes looked slightly different, slightly meaner looking? I realized it wasn't him, it was someone or something else. He didn't notice me looking at him from the side and I wanted to take his arm off of me, but I couldn't like in every other dream I have had with him. He brings me comfort in my sleep, but fear as well. And I'm always in such a deep trance in the dream where it seems like your actually awake when really you're not, which makes it so much harder to realize you're asleep and can't seem to wake up. The dream went on to events I don't want to write about. I just don't want him appearing in all of my dreams anymore, but the first thing I think about when I crawl into bed is him.&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord help me v_v*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4997052612706704322?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4997052612706704322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4997052612706704322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4997052612706704322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4997052612706704322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/haunting-my-dreams.html' title='Haunting my Dreams'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h1I2XlWmXDY/TnEibXRQPsI/AAAAAAAAAxY/IOBDhtR56ys/s72-c/dp2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-114409539089057523</id><published>2011-09-14T14:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T14:16:14.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqz8td6HbP1qeezaxo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-114409539089057523?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/114409539089057523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=114409539089057523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/114409539089057523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/114409539089057523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2802979278266139396</id><published>2011-09-12T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T14:39:19.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Imprint- Птица Вечность</title><content type='html'>Download Imprints new album for free! It's quite lovely &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://imprintband.com/download-new-album&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2802979278266139396?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2802979278266139396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2802979278266139396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2802979278266139396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2802979278266139396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/imprint.html' title='Imprint- Птица Вечность'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1242303788296375087</id><published>2011-09-12T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T14:38:18.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good,Great,Bad</title><content type='html'>So, Sunday morning I went to my Portland church which was great as always. I wish I brought someone along all the time though, it can get pretty lonely not having anyone to socialize with after besides a few people. Than I went to work. After work I was debating whether or not to go to yecheika (cell group/fellowship). I figured why not, though there actually wasn't a lot of people there. I'm guessing cause everyone started High School and want rest. It's weird not having to go to High School anymore, but College is around the corner. We just worshiped and talked, I had a few questions which led to some long convos. It went on for a while and than we prayed, and my friends (whos house it was at) dad (who is the youth leader) prayed for me. I can tell he likes me a lot even though I don't go to their youth group or anything, just grew up with those kids. Some of the older people there might think I don't go to their church anymore cause I simply stopped going to church, but honestly it's cause I either work or go to my Portland church which I love a billion times more. He walked up and craddled me tightly in his arms and was praying real hard. He's a slim buff guy, his touch felt exactly like the guy I once liked. But this felt a bajillion times better cause instead of just making me 'feel good in a wrong way', I was being prayed for. I cried in his arms, cause it felt good that he was praying for me but also cause he had that same body type that the guy I onced dearly liked, which made me miss him so much. But right after that, I completely forgot about that guy I once liked. I felt like Jesus was truely the only man in my life that I need. &lt;br /&gt;I felt so good and happy driving home. When I arrived home, my mum was in my room and asked if God had told me anything. I admit it scared me, cause she never asked such a thing before or ever even talks about God to me. I said that if he ever did, it'd be a personal thing rather than something she should know about. She said my book on Dreams and how to sew funky looking animals were the Devils work, along with my hemp bracelets I made years ago (I like doing crafts, sue me). She said hippies wear hemp bracelets, and their all&amp;nbsp;atheists. I have no idea how that relates to anything though, just cause I wear a hemp bracelet doesn't mean I'm&amp;nbsp;atheist. She may know that hemp is&amp;nbsp;partially&amp;nbsp;made out of a marijuana root, but you can't get high off of it at all and God made the plant so if she's against the plant, she's against God. I understand her view on my book about Dreams, there are some things that sound pretty trippy, but I honestly just love the artwork in it and I liked reading it. It was really interesting, but now its gone. And the book on how to sew funky animals is awesome, there so cute but my mum thinks there made from non-believers...which once again I don't see how that effects me at all. Shes just crazy I swear, I highly guaruntee that God didn't tell her any of that stuff was bad. It was just her personal view. I wasn't upset that she took that stuff away, I was just upset that she was scattering through my room. No personal space I swear, I need to get out of here asap. I'll also need to get a box with a lock to put all my belongings in now, extra work but the only way to get her out of my stuff. She always finds a way to ruin my good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1242303788296375087?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1242303788296375087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1242303788296375087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1242303788296375087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1242303788296375087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/goodgreatbad.html' title='Good,Great,Bad'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8252235158486747229</id><published>2011-09-11T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T19:19:15.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9/11</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/14697022/tumblr_lrh9srNf741qcxc9no1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lrh9srnf741qcxc9no1_500_large" border="0" height="266" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/14697022/tumblr_lrh9srNf741qcxc9no1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, *I promise I'm not&amp;nbsp;soulless, just pointing out my view on* 9/11. I was in the 3rd grade, we were just sitting at our desks minding our own business. The teacher turned on the TV which is only on when we watched Arthur but it wasn't that time yet. Obviously there had been something she wanted to see so urgently. Every channel she switched showed two airplanes crashing into both the twin towers, causing them to collapse. It looked like from a movie, so unreal. There were video shots of it from every angle. I mean in the third grade, we didn't know what terrorists were and why they hated America so much. That was all on TV for the month, they were even airing it over my favourite cartoons! The sadest part was seeing the people jump from the buildings. People falling from buildings looks weird, but sad.&lt;br /&gt;People were being sad today, remembering this tragedy...did I also mention...it was TEN FLIPPIN YEARS AGO. I don't see anyone being all sad over the WWII era. People usually mourn deaths that happened in large groups, but not so much everyday when a person dies every 10-20min. I believe? Plus, people make it seem that the people who died in the towers is something more sad than someone who simply dies in a car accident. Seriously? It doesn't matter if a meteorite crashes on the person, that doesn't make their death something more valuable to look back at, they die either way. And another reason why people are actually really sad about this tragic event is cause they lived to see it. I guaruntee that your kids and grandkids won't care so much about it in history class cause like for us, we didn't live through the World Wars so we don't like to do homework on those events, &amp;amp; it will be the same for our kids on the Twin Tower attack. Obviously we wouldn't mind doing assignments on the Twin Towers cause we lived to see it and have a personal understanding of what had happened. Am I Right? &lt;br /&gt;But may those people who have died continue to Rest in Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8252235158486747229?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8252235158486747229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8252235158486747229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8252235158486747229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8252235158486747229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/911.html' title='9/11'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5756529037983490802</id><published>2011-09-09T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T12:07:04.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love finding songs that tell your current situation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is whats on my mind:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="217" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Bj7REof7KjE?rel=0" width="250"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is whats on his mind:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="170" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/o4sfh2u8cgU?rel=0" width="250"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5756529037983490802?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5756529037983490802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5756529037983490802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5756529037983490802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5756529037983490802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-love-finding-songs-that-tell-your.html' title='I love finding songs that tell your current situation'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Bj7REof7KjE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-870464131275955164</id><published>2011-09-08T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T21:28:28.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami</title><content type='html'>So, I had this dream that literally blew my mind. It's definitely one of those dreams I'll remember forever just cause it was so vivid, felt too real. Me, my parents, and family friends were at this beach in what looked like Hawaii. It was a small shore cause a huge mountain took up most of the land. We were swimming and just enjoying the water, until the water began to rise and the waves were crashing closer and closer to us. It was a tsunami that was totally uncalled for, me and my parents were holding on for our dear lives on the rocks, and began walking higher up the mountain. Once it came to a halt, we met with our family friends who were in grief because some of them drowned. Lots of people actually got caught in the waves and were swept away. A few minutes later, we looked at the sea and another huge wave was coming. My dad said "That's it, we're done with" but I forced my parents up to the tip of the mountain. It was really really narrow, quite a few people climbed to the highet point too. We were really high up, but so was the wave. It looked like in that movie '2012', when that huge wave crashes over the mountains. I was sitting on my dads lap holding on for my life. I closed my eyes when than the wave crashed, barely touching our feet. Anyone who wasn't on the highest point was clearly dead, including our family friends. When I opened my eyes, the scene was remarkable. Only the tip of this mountain was showing, with small groups of families, and this vast sea that had risen thousands of feet within minutes. The sunset brought a tear to my eye because the day was ending, with hunderds of people dead, that aren't going to see the sunrise anymore. We were all sitting there in the dark, not knowing what to do. Someone had caught a cell phone signal, and called for help even though the people on the other line couldn't hear us. They still tracked us through the phone though. Hours later we see helicopters flying above. We waved our cell phone lights at them, it looked like glowing bugs. The water went back a bit so we got to spread out for the helicopters to drop down baskets for us to get in. I couldn't believe I survived such a massive tsunami, I was scared to find out how many people have died from it. A lady from the helicopter came up to me and took a picture of my dirty wet face, when than I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aLIib9ppD0I?rel=0" width="420"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-870464131275955164?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/870464131275955164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=870464131275955164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/870464131275955164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/870464131275955164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/tsunami.html' title='Tsunami'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/aLIib9ppD0I/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7565828579606784117</id><published>2011-09-06T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T23:28:28.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noooooooooooooo</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bBJh5P0sJ3g/TmcPDPdhbKI/AAAAAAAAAw4/IIkToBfxgc0/s1600/photo-708282.PNG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bBJh5P0sJ3g/TmcPDPdhbKI/AAAAAAAAAw4/IIkToBfxgc0/s320/photo-708282.PNG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649500805923957922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7565828579606784117?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7565828579606784117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7565828579606784117' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7565828579606784117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7565828579606784117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/noooooooooooooo.html' title='Noooooooooooooo'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bBJh5P0sJ3g/TmcPDPdhbKI/AAAAAAAAAw4/IIkToBfxgc0/s72-c/photo-708282.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3069228700096893679</id><published>2011-09-05T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T22:47:55.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Couple</title><content type='html'>So, first of all, the WalMart photo studio called and said my pictures turned out blank and if I wanted them to just throw it out (well no duh). How unfortunate, but I know how to rewind the film in the camera now so whatevz. &lt;br&gt;I thought work would be a nightmare today considering it&amp;#39;s labor day, but it actually wasn&amp;#39;t all that bad! I was doing put aways in the back at the fitting rooms, &amp;amp; was hitting up a convo with everyone who was waiting for a room or the guys that were waiting for their wives/girlfriends. One couple in particular, the guy was waiting for his girlfriend. They were from Salem too so there was something in common. We were laughing at the funniest things and just talked about our lives and school. I told Josh (the guy) bout wanting to get in the airline business as a pilot or something, &amp;amp; he was in fact taking flight lessons for a private pilots license. Jealous! The girl (somehow forgot her name) was really funny too, she tried on a pair of pants that were too big but she wanted them cause it made her feel gangster. The guy is very handsome, built, tall with pretty eyes, American but has a euro look. The girl on the other hand, short, a bit chubby, long blonde hair, clearly American. He slapped her ass in one pair of the pants cause it made it look so good, I laughed so hard. But this thought came across my mind, how did such a girl like herself get such a fine gentleman like him? You probably see that a lot, good looking guys with not the best looking girl. She reminded me of myself though, not the finest looking fish in the sea, but has the best personality. Than I thought about Doniu, why such a good looking man like himself would like such a noobish girl like me. I guess there&amp;#39;s just some guys that would highly prefer a girl by the way she is on the inside rather than out. It gives me hope you know? It&amp;#39;s so tuff to find someone like that, but when you do, there&amp;#39;s nothing that can keep you looking away from them. I hope to see them both in my hood someday, it is a small world so there is a possibility. &lt;br&gt;I than had to do outside duty, where I just stand outside to keep an eye out on the sale racks outside. A young blonde boy was standing next to me, waiting for his mum. I hit up a convo with him, my boss inside was laughing cause she couldn&amp;#39;t believe that within 5min. of being outside, I once again already met someone new. He was very shy, but I managed to keep it going. He had a very euro look to him, and when he mentioned he went to Cali,Washington,Florida,&amp;amp; Alaska over the Summer, I knew he was Russian. I was right. Those states are filled with them. His mum finally got done and they left. The day went by slow, and around the end it was dying. I love it when there&amp;#39;s barely anyone in the store. This one little Asian girl kept talking to me though, she was so cute. She showed me a Coach coupon she had, them Asian kids start bargaining at an early age I swear. When older Asians talk with an accent, it&amp;#39;s annoying, but with little kids, it&amp;#39;s really cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3069228700096893679?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3069228700096893679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3069228700096893679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3069228700096893679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3069228700096893679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/fun-couple.html' title='Fun Couple'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1946185398565346945</id><published>2011-09-05T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T13:09:42.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ears and Toes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, now that I finally got the camera back from my parents who were visiting my family in Washington, I have some pics to post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I wanted a full body shot of my outfit I wore to the fair cause I thought it was super cute, but I think this is fairly cute anyway. Supa tan!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gRAzk3VLRPk/TmUqxdOveII/AAAAAAAAAwU/GLHShWhPjjw/s1600/IMG_1095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gRAzk3VLRPk/TmUqxdOveII/AAAAAAAAAwU/GLHShWhPjjw/s640/IMG_1095.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is the tragus I got at the fair I wanted last year! It'll be in a bit of pain for 3 more months, but it'll fly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aCBPK9b8zO8/TmUqxo7bMrI/AAAAAAAAAwY/e5C5VO498ms/s1600/IMG_1198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aCBPK9b8zO8/TmUqxo7bMrI/AAAAAAAAAwY/e5C5VO498ms/s640/IMG_1198.JPG" width="478" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ok, first time getting a pedicure *sorry my feet look nasty in the pic, I just washed the car so my toes got wrinkly and have dirt* or anything at the nail saloon. The lady took a while to pick the skin off my toes cause I had so much! It's from work I know, being on your feet all day can do nasty wounders to your feet. I asked her how to say Hello in Vietnamese, she told me and asked if it's cause I wanted a Vietnamese boyfriend (in their accent). I started laughing sooo hard! She also said to stop cutting my nails so short, I didn't think they were that short? It's cause if I let them grow a bit longer, they start cutting me and it hurts, even if I smooth out the edges. Long story short, getting your nails done is suchhhhh a waste of money. $30 down the drain for these little nails. I just liked the cleaning part, but don't care much for the nail designs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YX3HTWXyZrM/TmUqyGN4zJI/AAAAAAAAAwc/kUPX7I9wNM4/s1600/IMG_1200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YX3HTWXyZrM/TmUqyGN4zJI/AAAAAAAAAwc/kUPX7I9wNM4/s640/IMG_1200.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-1946185398565346945?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1946185398565346945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1946185398565346945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1946185398565346945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1946185398565346945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/ears-and-toes.html' title='Ears and Toes'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gRAzk3VLRPk/TmUqxdOveII/AAAAAAAAAwU/GLHShWhPjjw/s72-c/IMG_1095.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3659599103588041009</id><published>2011-09-03T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T22:32:09.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No main point to this</title><content type='html'>So, there&amp;#39;s this tweet I saw that I thought was so totally true. It said something along the lines of &amp;quot;Instead of missing me all the time, do something about it.&amp;quot; That&amp;#39;s why I don&amp;#39;t like or want another long distance relationship, cause every hour they just text me how much they miss me and shit. Than do something about it!! I do, I drive over just to see their face. I went through a hellish fase with my mum just to fly out to see their face cause I missed them that much. With the guys though, they just keep saying how much they miss her but don&amp;#39;t put effort in actually seeing her. There&amp;#39;s a lot of excuses as of why they can&amp;#39;t come over though, bullshit ones or reasonable ones. &lt;br&gt;I visited my uncle cause I havn&amp;#39;t seen him in forever and him &amp;amp; his wife were having a garage sale. We were talking at the dining tabel and catching up on life. He told me how he met my aunt, I love love love being told love stories by much older people, there my absolute fav. We were laughing at how it went down and stuff. I told him my mum presures me to find someone already, since my sister got married at 18, but he said I was still way too young for a relationship. Age doesn&amp;#39;t have anything to do with when you can date or even get married, it&amp;#39;s more about the maturity level and whether God is in the relationship full on. My uncle said he used to like this super Christian girl, but it didn&amp;#39;t work out. She married a non-christian guy cause she believed she could change him. He didn&amp;#39;t, and they ended up getting a divorce. He said it&amp;#39;s no good to marry a non-believer cause you will have a Lot of problems, which I agree. I&amp;#39;m told that a lot actually. But for some reason, I feel like I don&amp;#39;t like those Uki Christian Fob guys anymore? I feel like I don&amp;#39;t belong in that crowd anymore, cause I don&amp;#39;t like my mums slavic church and I despise going there. I mean honestly, all those Portland fob guys play hard to get on purpose which I don&amp;#39;t play. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m not even sure if I&amp;#39;m even meant to get married? Perhaps it&amp;#39;s not in my will to do so. I&amp;#39;m always told by my buddies bout how genuine of a girl I am, but I feel like I would fail at being a wife. When a guy talks about the kids he wants, their automatically placed on my &amp;#39;Do Not Like More Than A Friend&amp;#39; list. Not only would I fail as a wife, but as a mother as well. I admit I want a son though, but not sure if I want to risk it and possibly end up with a daughter :/ I&amp;#39;ve grown to be so negative towards myself, but I don&amp;#39;t try to be, I just accept the fact that I&amp;#39;m not the finest fish in the sea. I honestly would feel bad for whoever had to marry me ahah!! &lt;br&gt;There&amp;#39;s really no main point in this post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3659599103588041009?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3659599103588041009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3659599103588041009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3659599103588041009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3659599103588041009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/no-main-point-to-this.html' title='No main point to this'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5445413929545379786</id><published>2011-09-02T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T21:17:10.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oregon State Fair 2011</title><content type='html'>So, I went to the Oregon State Fair once again. It&amp;#39;s funny cause I&amp;#39;ve talked about it every year since I&amp;#39;ve had this blog, since 2008. Every year though it seems like less and less people go though cause they think it&amp;#39;s overpriced. To me it&amp;#39;s like tradition to go, so I don&amp;#39;t worry bout the prices much. I did spend around $50 all together though. I went by myself for the first time too, cause I had no one to ask and like I said, no one wanted to go due to the price issue. First I looked at the animals which were so funny and cute, but I didn&amp;#39;t spend too much time with them cause honestly you always see farm animals. I got a vanilla Ice Cream cone which I always do cause it&amp;#39;s so bomb! There was a fire fighter (not in his suit though) sitting at a info tabel, and we were kind of eyeing each other. I came up an asked him about how to do a ride along with a State Trooper rather than a county one, he wasn&amp;#39;t sure exactly how that worked but he was being so silly and flirty, including myself. Super cute guy, has a slight country accent and look though which I don&amp;#39;t dig. I continued walking through the stands with all the stuff for sale, I bought new aviators ^_^ there black framed and bigger than my previous ones. I than went to the food and sewing building, which has cool cakes and quilt blankets on display. There was also a display of old Army &amp;amp; Navy uniforms. I love their uniforms, just so legit. Nicely fitted with all these cool niknaks. I went next door to the convention centre building which is my fav cause they have a lot of cool stuff. The first stand I came across was a registration to vote as a republican. I was thinking about signing up but didn&amp;#39;t. The guy asked what music I was listening to and I happened to be listening to Ruki Vverh so I said Russian. We hit up a convo, I told him I was by myself, than he introduced me to his son *&amp;gt;_&amp;gt; awkward. Was I just able to just enjoy my time without any guys please! I continued my way to the art building which I love as well, and I always get my name written in Caligraphy form. I than proceeded to the gaming area, with all the carnival games and rides. I kept my eye out for my two buddies from school that worked there last year. I found one at one of the gaming stations and we caught up on life. He gave me a free blow up alien he found floating around, I thought that was so sweet. I sure wasn&amp;#39;t lonely with that alien. I started walking back when than I saw the piercing station. Last year I wanted to get a tragus piercing, but couldn&amp;#39;t cause I was 17 &amp;amp; my parents weren&amp;#39;t present to give them permission to, which they never would. Since I was alone, &amp;amp; 18, I decided to get it. I was scared shitless, but they helped me stay calm and it wasn&amp;#39;t painful at all. I didn&amp;#39;t realize I wasn&amp;#39;t going to be able to put a headphone in that ear now though, cause the earing sticks out in the back!? It&amp;#39;s still in a bit of pain though. Have to listen through one headphone now :( need to buy big headphones that don&amp;#39;t go in the ears. It&amp;#39;s a cute big white diamond stud earing, $25. That&amp;#39;s why the total I spent at the fair was so much, cause of this earing. &lt;br&gt;I saw both my buddies passing buy that work at the fair and I joined em real quick and showed em my new earing. Walking with both of them brings me back to the Freshman and Sophmore years, we were like the 3 muskateers. We hung out all the time, until we seperated when we went to college at 16. &lt;br&gt;After touring the whole place, I finally departed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5445413929545379786?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5445413929545379786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5445413929545379786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5445413929545379786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5445413929545379786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/09/oregon-state-fair-2011.html' title='Oregon State Fair 2011'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4322255514925463721</id><published>2011-08-30T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T21:32:25.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Water in the Sky</title><content type='html'>So, of course the most exciting part about the Cali trip was getting to fly. The flight there was ehh. The plane was full, but fortunately the middle seat between me and this one lady was empty like I mentioned before. It was behind the wing, so the engine was roaring the whole way there. My music couldn't even eliminate the sound. Lots of people were getting up and going to the bathroom, it was annoying. I know flight attendants despise when people go to the bathroom on a 2.5 hour flight! I only went cause after 2 small bags of snacks, I had a lot of crap stuck in my braces that I just had to wash out. It was a slightly rough landing too.&lt;br /&gt;The flight back was awesome though, cause the plane was half empty. I had a whole row to myself, and so did the girl about my age that sat in the section next to mine. I buckled my stuffed dog Bluey in one of the seats, the flight attendants laughed cause they thought it was too cute. I sat next to the window this time too, the views above the clouds were just jaw dropping. I wanted to take pics but my film ended, &amp;amp; I had a tough time figuring out how to rewind the film! I ruined quite a bit of the pics I know. My favourite part about take offs and landing is going through the clouds (if any). It's seriously, just wow, beyond awesome. I always look up in the sky to watch the airplane the size of a flake fly by, but now someone is watching me in that flake fly by. I saw crater lake from the plane too! I noticed it right away cause of its shape and the little mountain thats in the lake. And I also saw another plane below fly south. That's also my favourite thing to see on board, is seeing other planes fly by. They go a billion times faster when your about their level rather than looking from the ground. The airplane wasn't as loud as the other either, very quiet and smooth. The landing was excellent too, no bumps or anything. I hope I'll get to fly sometime soon again, they are just too fun.&lt;br /&gt;When I arrived home I unpacked and what not, just talked with my sis and dad. After everyone left I listened to some of my mellow songs from Thrice like Digital Sea and Open Water, cause that's all I listened to on the plane. I began to cry, louder and louder. I was sobbing. I cried so hard I had to go to the bathroom because I almost threw up. My stomach hurt so bad from crying, it felt like someone punched me real hard. I kept shaking my head and telling God how much I didn't want to be here, but I have no where else to go. There is no where else to go. I thought and felt like I was going crazy, I have no idea what or why such a strong feeling came over me to where it made me sick to my stomach. I felt betrayed, used, I can't believe I give myself up so easy and all for the wrong reasons. It disgusts me, it disgusts God which makes me feel even worse. It's just tough knowing that God knows every bad move you'll make, yet he won't warn you about it so that you would prevent it from happening. It just happens. &lt;br /&gt;My boss accidentaly put me to work on my last vication day, she's lucky my flight arrived in the morning rather than afternoon. When I came, I tried not to cry. Not cause of work, but cause my head hurt from all that crying &amp;amp; those crazy thoughts I had, I took pills and felt like crap for the most part. It was just so crazy to think that, that morning I woke up in San Diego and was now at work over a thousand miles away from where I woke up. It's just mind blowing. &lt;br /&gt;I do ask you, if you may, pray for me. God will know what's up. Thank You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="292" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gqWXRUyoDK8?rel=0" width="350"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4322255514925463721?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4322255514925463721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4322255514925463721' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4322255514925463721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4322255514925463721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/water-in-sky.html' title='Water in the Sky'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/gqWXRUyoDK8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5268295522400106490</id><published>2011-08-30T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T23:04:45.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calish #2</title><content type='html'>So, I went to Los Angelas with a buddy to the Griffith Observatory. It's a big place up a big hill where they have huge telescopes to watch the stars. It's a lot like a space museum too where they have real astroids and what not. LA has so much smog it's disgusting, but I still got to see the Hollywood sign! Than my bud went to his business meeting so I was chilling at a Starbucks for a while. Barista didn't know what deducting sales tax from Oregonians ment either. He actually didn't even know the word 'deduct'. Geez. Later, we went to a Electro Dance House Party! I was so excited to meet some of the well known DG USA dancers. Everyone looks much different in person than in video, especially Vouge which I adore. She has such a unique fashion style and really slick electro moves. It was super chill, I wish we had electro dancers in my hood to do that all the time. It's just an empty living room with electro music playing the whole time and people practicing and dancing electro. Some of them actually knew who I was too which was cool, cause to me their like celebrities but to them I'm an electro veteran. We were there for a long time, than fimally headed back to San Diego. It's funny cause it's a 2.5 hour drive from SD to LA which to people there is a lot, but back home we drive 3 hours to go swimming at KahNeeTah ahah! &lt;br /&gt;Next day we went to another beach which was awesome cause we went boogy boarding! Can't do that much in Oregon. We were there for a while, than later that night we toured downtown San Diego. I loveeeee San Diegos nightlife, girls dressed like skanks including myself cause I just had to blend in. So many people walking through the streets, tons of cars slowly driving by. We ate at this Italian restauraunt which was iight, I just liked sitting outside and watching all the people passin through. It was a great busy night.  &lt;br /&gt;The next couple days we just toured some cities on the outskirts of San Diego like&amp;nbsp;Coronado&amp;nbsp;and La Jolla, went to the beaches and park. I don't miss home, but I kind of want to get out of here already. To another far city, San Fransisco perhaps, or Seattle cause I actually know tons of people there unlike SD. Don't miss work or my family though, hate Salem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pics from Polish Fest I went to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First off, my homeboy DJ Kruze&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nsJSLiUaKU8/TmcI6X9tYWI/AAAAAAAAAwk/5jvPO4DLGeQ/s1600/2011-08-28-1800-38.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nsJSLiUaKU8/TmcI6X9tYWI/AAAAAAAAAwk/5jvPO4DLGeQ/s640/2011-08-28-1800-38.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I randomly met&amp;nbsp;Nichole, she mistook me for her friend, but than we became friends!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4g2qPmx5fWM/TmcI6_pLLvI/AAAAAAAAAwo/v9h7qKdsLtc/s1600/2011-08-28-1801-04.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4g2qPmx5fWM/TmcI6_pLLvI/AAAAAAAAAwo/v9h7qKdsLtc/s640/2011-08-28-1801-04.JPG" width="576" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One person I had to met in SDizzy is DJ Filosoff!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-95q63fZcduQ/TmcI7e_VvpI/AAAAAAAAAws/C5YbKJjZYM0/s1600/2011-08-28-1801-26.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-95q63fZcduQ/TmcI7e_VvpI/AAAAAAAAAws/C5YbKJjZYM0/s640/2011-08-28-1801-26.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Probably the only digital pic of me at San Diego, photo credit to DJ Filosoff!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZaEEUH8bK50/TmcI76oXZuI/AAAAAAAAAww/wexdTPJRVMM/s1600/2011-08-28-1837-48.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZaEEUH8bK50/TmcI76oXZuI/AAAAAAAAAww/wexdTPJRVMM/s640/2011-08-28-1837-48.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-5268295522400106490?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5268295522400106490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5268295522400106490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5268295522400106490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5268295522400106490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/calish-2.html' title='Calish #2'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nsJSLiUaKU8/TmcI6X9tYWI/AAAAAAAAAwk/5jvPO4DLGeQ/s72-c/2011-08-28-1800-38.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-3416174051761918815</id><published>2011-08-26T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T13:47:33.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calish</title><content type='html'>So, waiting for my cousin to pick me up at 04:30 was the longest wait of my life. My stomach hurt, I was so eager and nervous to go to San Diego. I was so stoked to finally fly too, it&amp;#39;s been years. When I arrived at the airport I noticed my iPod,Cell Phone,&amp;amp; Wallet was gone. I was panicking cause I know I had just put it in the carry on. I thought that&amp;#39;s it, I have waited so long but won&amp;#39;t be able to go cause of that crap. I stepped aside and was frantically looking through my bag when a lady approached me asking if I was missing an iPod,Phone,&amp;amp; Wallet. She was an angel sent from heaven I swear. She turned it into the lost and found and I retreaved them back, the only thing that was missing were my headphones. That was not a problem, just bought new ones at the airport which have better bass sound than those other ones. The flight was awesome, I got aisle seat but there was no one in the middle seat so me and the lady who had the window seat were just spreadin ourselves out. &lt;br&gt;I finally arrived to San Diego, I thought it was so weird but cool knowing that the people I know are walking somewhere down there. And how there were so many cars and houses, it&amp;#39;s crazy how Adam &amp;amp; Eve started this whole human population. &lt;br&gt;Me and my friend roamed downtown San Diego which was really hot but great. There are so many restaraunts, cafes, and bars! Not a single one is the same! They don&amp;#39;t even know what Olive Garden is cause there are so many individualy owned food places there. I also saw their White|Black, I wanted to go in and ask if they liked the new District Manager cause I don&amp;#39;t haaa but I didn&amp;#39;t.&lt;br&gt;I took a long nap that day cause I didn&amp;#39;t sleep +24 hours, I was just too excited to go. So far, Cali is definitely not a place I&amp;#39;d live...No one in the south knows what deducting sales tax from Oregonians means. In Washington everyone knows, in Cali, no one. Only places where they don&amp;#39;t serve you do they deduct the sales tax if you show your Oregon ID. I&amp;#39;m anti-sales tax, so it upsets me that I can&amp;#39;t get that discount. &lt;br&gt;We also went to the beach which was awesome, the water was really cold and salty but refreshing. Their sand is really weird though, it&amp;#39;s very fine and sticks on you like no other. The beach we went to, the water smelled like rotten pourage? Gross. &lt;br&gt;More to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-3416174051761918815?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/3416174051761918815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=3416174051761918815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3416174051761918815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/3416174051761918815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/calish.html' title='Calish'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-7087110064376655976</id><published>2011-08-24T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T08:55:07.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DM Maddness</title><content type='html'>So, I mentioned before that we got a new district manager recently. I came to work one day and my co-worker and boss said that if she calls and you pick up, she will ask what your UPT (Units Per Transaction) is. Right now, we have the lowest UPT rate in the nation which is rather embarrasing. You would think we sell a lot since we&amp;#39;re an outlet but we don&amp;#39;t. Asians think $19.99 is still a lot and Americans find any way to get an additional discounts for (washable) stains on the item (we don&amp;#39;t give additional discounts), which I&amp;#39;m sure they make themselves in the fitting room. Anywho, I like our new district manager when I first met her, but she&amp;#39;s really up our asses bout everything right now. If she asks me what my UPT is, I&amp;#39;ll tell her to look for herself since she&amp;#39;s got all our info. I&amp;#39;d tell her I have no control of how much stuff people buy, what does she expect us to do, threatin them to buy it all? Hell no. If I really told her any of that (true) stuff, she&amp;#39;d fire me on the spot. I don&amp;#39;t mind one boss, but I do mind having +2 bosses. As if taking orders from one isn&amp;#39;t enough. I liked it when we didn&amp;#39;t have a district manager, so that they didn&amp;#39;t call every day and ask &amp;quot;What the heck&amp;quot;. Garghhh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-7087110064376655976?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/7087110064376655976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=7087110064376655976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7087110064376655976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/7087110064376655976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/dm-maddness.html' title='DM Maddness'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6276492988479557677</id><published>2011-08-24T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T00:28:48.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Big Lie</title><content type='html'>So, I&amp;#39;m beyond stoked to go to Cali. It was a hell ride with my parents though, specifically with my mum. My dad just asked why I was going, what for, blah blah blah. I simply said vication, I mean seriously, what&amp;#39;s wrong with that! Unlike my mum, he didn&amp;#39;t ask why I hadn&amp;#39;t asked them first. It was a minute convo with my dad but an hour and days of yelling with my mum. I told her I didn&amp;#39;t bother asking them cause I knew they would say No, like everything else I have asked them in my life. I&amp;#39;m 18, I don&amp;#39;t need parent permission for such things. My mum starting babling about girls running off and having a fling with a guy than next thing you know shes pregnant and overall screwed up. I told her I didn&amp;#39;t get what she was trying to say, cause I&amp;#39;m nothing like that and she knows it. Almost makes me believe she thinks I&amp;#39;m that messed up to do such a thing. In fact, I&amp;#39;m sure she believes I was a huge mistake and I won&amp;#39;t deny that I might of been. I don&amp;#39;t like it here on earth. I am messed up for lying to them so much, but I would never do anything that would ruin my life in such a way like getting &amp;#39;pregnant, drinking, &amp;amp; drugs&amp;#39;. Seriously. I hate how she keeps bringing up all this crap that has nothing to do with any of this vication of mine. Crazy woman I swear. I won&amp;#39;t be getting married soon, which would mean I&amp;#39;ll have to force myself to move out on my own but hopefully with room mates. My sisters teenage years went smoothly, got her first boyfriend and job at 16. She got to go anywhere and everywhere with him. Married at 18, moved out and doing nursing school. &lt;br&gt;Me, didn&amp;#39;t get my first job by 18. Two ex&amp;#39;s. Can&amp;#39;t go anywhere cause I don&amp;#39;t have that boyfriend or best friend to go with. Not close to my associates in Hospitality &amp;amp; Tourism Management as I was hoping to be at this point. I don&amp;#39;t compare myself to my sister though, cause she does what she has to but I do what I love which just made me realize, it&amp;#39;s harder to do what you love rather than what you have to...Maybe cause going in the Airline Industry isn&amp;#39;t as well paying as Nurses/Doctors. Cept Airline Controlers, those suckers make bank. I just want to travel, meet new people all over the world. I can&amp;#39;t stand being in one spot for a long time, I need to keep going and moving. So much to explore, so little time. &lt;p&gt;I wounder how bad it would be to Not invite your parents to your wedding, cause I&amp;#39;m actually thinking about that. I know for a fact my mum would never let me marry the one I love, and that he won&amp;#39;t get their blessing. Idk how big of a deal it is to have to ask the parents if they can marry their daughter though, never really read that in the Bible. &lt;p&gt;My parents are complete control freaks. No their not over protecting, their control freaks. I was the quiet child &amp;amp; my sis was the crazy when we were kids. I obeyed my parents all the time, my sis not so much. It seems like the reason they let her move on with another man is cause they had let her go when she was a kid cause she was a wild child. But they never let go of me, cause their used to telling me to do stuff I don&amp;#39;t want to. That&amp;#39;s why I&amp;#39;m the rebelious one now. But obviously it&amp;#39;s worse as a teen than a kid cause you can drive and do crazy shtuff. &lt;p&gt;They say God gives you the parents you have cause they match with you...Yea right. This is all a mistake that is too late to turn around and make it how it should of been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-6276492988479557677?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6276492988479557677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6276492988479557677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6276492988479557677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6276492988479557677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/one-big-lie.html' title='One Big Lie'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1360467814109246873</id><published>2011-08-21T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T21:24:52.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick to my Stomach</title><content type='html'>So, yesterday I went to Vasily&amp;#39;s &amp;amp; Julie&amp;#39;s wedding. It was beautiful, the couple was just beautiful. I loved how the bride was always smiling, through the whole thing she was smiling. It made me smile. She prayed for quite a while but it was great, cause she kept thanking God for giving her such an awesome guy. I was jealous! I was by myself the whole time but it was alright. Of course the line to congradualte the bride+groom and the line for food was huge but it was worth it. I love weddings, seeing two beautiful couples come together as one. I was walking down the hall and Vasily was walking behind me, he said &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m the happiest man right now.&amp;quot; It was really sweet. &lt;br&gt;My San Diego trip is coming real soon, &amp;amp; I had to figure out how to tell the parentals. My dad was gone but my mum was talking about when their flying to Florida I think for a cruise. I said I was flying out myself real soon (real soon like in days!). She obviously didn&amp;#39;t believe me at first but I told her I was serious and what not, and that I have proof of my seriousness with a plane ticket. She asked who would let me go, neither my dad or herself will let. I said I&amp;#39;m not asking anyone if I can go, cause I am going no matter what. Cops can&amp;#39;t do anything, nor can they. She didn&amp;#39;t seem pleased at all, but I left right to work. If you have Uki parents, you would understand how strict they can realllly be. I know she told my dad, &amp;amp; asked my sis and bro in law bout it (they knew). When I came home from work I went straight to my room, I didn&amp;#39;t want to hear a word from them. My sis said when my mum asked her about my Getaway to SD, she seemed fine about it, but I know how my mum is. She makes it seem like its all good when in reality, she&amp;#39;s screaming on the inside. I just don&amp;#39;t see what there is to get upset about, I need a vication and one where it&amp;#39;s not with my parents. I&amp;#39;m always embarrased when I&amp;#39;m asked who I went to the beach and camp with, &amp;amp; it&amp;#39;s always with my parents. I want to go with friends (though I don&amp;#39;t have any travel buddies) or by myself for once. I&amp;#39;m just not looking forward to what my dad has to say, he can be a very angry man. I have that same emotion I got when I got really bad grades in middle school or got in trouble for any reason, that feeling that makes my stomach sick. I am indeed a very rebelious child. I lie to my parents a lot about where I&amp;#39;m going and what I&amp;#39;m doing, it sucks. But I feel like I have no choice because no matter what I ask to do, they will say no. &lt;br&gt;Gonna keep crossing my fingers that they won&amp;#39;t literally tie me on a leash like I have felt all the years of my life with them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1360467814109246873?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1360467814109246873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1360467814109246873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1360467814109246873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1360467814109246873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/sick-to-my-stomach.html' title='Sick to my Stomach'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1656695434052025334</id><published>2011-08-15T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T11:26:01.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking to a Priest</title><content type='html'>So, I finally got to talk to the priest at my dads Orthodox church. It was kind of an awkward first approach for me, but once we started talking it was really chill. He has his masters in Theology, so he is one smart (&amp;amp; funny) fellow. I definitely learned a lot from what he was telling me, like the main purpose of baptism and communion. &lt;br /&gt;"Communion isn't just a 'remembrence' of Christ like how all other churches do, they throw away the left over juice and crackers after. Sounds wrong doesn't it, throwing the blood and body of Christ away. We don't believe it's just some remembrence, but the fact that we really are consuming his blood and body in us because he was the only true Holy man after his resurection. We don't digest it, it digests us." &lt;br /&gt;Really really good point. Thankfully he said I don't have to memorize the creed in Russian, I can in English if I want and even just read it out loud which would be a billion times better and easier for me. Now I'm more excited to come together as one with God. &lt;br /&gt;He asked if my dad was a non-devoted Orthodox believer? I did tell him he was Orthodox, &amp;amp; that's all I know him being, but the priest said Orthodox are only allowed to marry other Orthodoxs or Catholics when baptised (which for them is when their babies), which he isn't (my pentecostal mum). But I said since they lived during the Communist era, where religion was a risky thing, it was probably tough to find any believer as it was. He said his wife actually didn't convert to Orthodox 3 years after their marriage, so he would understand. But than that means my possibility with any guy went from a bajillion guys, to a couple :/ and the only Orthodox boys I know are like my brothers as it is so their no use ahah! But of&lt;br /&gt;course, my crush is actually catholic (non-devoted though) so perhaps that can count :) &lt;br /&gt;Still sucks.&lt;br /&gt;Oh and this lady gave me cut watermelon to take home, I thought that was so nice :)&lt;br /&gt;That Sunday was actually a holiday of some sort, where they bless honey which you got to take home too. It was neat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oGKFdLk_1Pk/Tkn-s1iJ4EI/AAAAAAAAAwM/euoMnVFR5ok/s1600/photo-779347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641320054496288834" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oGKFdLk_1Pk/Tkn-s1iJ4EI/AAAAAAAAAwM/euoMnVFR5ok/s640/photo-779347.JPG" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1656695434052025334?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1656695434052025334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1656695434052025334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1656695434052025334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1656695434052025334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/talking-to-priest.html' title='Talking to a Priest'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oGKFdLk_1Pk/Tkn-s1iJ4EI/AAAAAAAAAwM/euoMnVFR5ok/s72-c/photo-779347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1710059042673957423</id><published>2011-08-12T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T23:42:56.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that what I think it is....RAIN! :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2XnxAVRLoQ/TkYc8DipMjI/AAAAAAAAAv8/fRfDSQdIvlo/s1600/photo-776572.PNG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2XnxAVRLoQ/TkYc8DipMjI/AAAAAAAAAv8/fRfDSQdIvlo/s320/photo-776572.PNG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640227401396466226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1710059042673957423?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1710059042673957423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1710059042673957423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1710059042673957423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1710059042673957423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/is-that-what-i-think-it-israin-d.html' title='Is that what I think it is....RAIN! :D'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2XnxAVRLoQ/TkYc8DipMjI/AAAAAAAAAv8/fRfDSQdIvlo/s72-c/photo-776572.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1254972890968003793</id><published>2011-08-12T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T03:01:14.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't fall asleep.Great.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1254972890968003793?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1254972890968003793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1254972890968003793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1254972890968003793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1254972890968003793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/cant-fall-asleepgreat.html' title='Can&apos;t fall asleep.Great.'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5924041640406451348</id><published>2011-08-11T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T13:42:41.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oldie Camera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hooYLXGGn8/TkTKihPKAjI/AAAAAAAAAv0/1hprXpVDo7o/s1600/photo-745394.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639855327761007154" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hooYLXGGn8/TkTKihPKAjI/AAAAAAAAAv0/1hprXpVDo7o/s320/photo-745394.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I was randomly looking through all the cute stuff on Etsy. I randomly stumbled upon some old cameras, and I actually wanted to order one but all the sellers sounded kind of sketchy on the description. They all said how they never tested it out and don't know whether it works so its sold as is. I don't want to pay $25 for a broken camera thank you. Before youth I decided to drop by Goodwill which I havn't been to forever. Right when I walked in, I found one old camera in the glass case. I got it right than and there, and for only $14.99. I didn't know they tested out cameras, so it does work. It was funny cause I forgot how to open it to put film in it, and all the associates were trying to figure it out too but we all failed. One guy was like "That's why I stick to digital." I said I took a film photography class, but failed it which would make sense why I forgot how to open it. &lt;br /&gt;After youth I went to WalMart with 2 boys I drove home, one of them broke their leg so he wanted to ride around in one of those electric carts, it was hilarious. I bought film and finally figured out how to open the camera. Now I need to learn about the exposure settings and crap again, but if people back than knew it, I can too lol. I looked up the manual online, and apparantly it's a late 70's camera which doesn't make it all that vintage, but still fairly old. It will probably empty my pocket from buying all the film and having them produced, but it'll be fun:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5924041640406451348?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5924041640406451348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5924041640406451348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5924041640406451348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5924041640406451348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/oldie-camera.html' title='Oldie Camera'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hooYLXGGn8/TkTKihPKAjI/AAAAAAAAAv0/1hprXpVDo7o/s72-c/photo-745394.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1793539394287921204</id><published>2011-08-11T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T17:36:32.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Longest Lashes</title><content type='html'>So, like in my Sucker Punch post, the girls in the movie have fabulous makeovers. I had smokey eyes cept with black and pink, can't see it in the pic though. These lashes literally took me 45min to put on cause I kept messing up! I got really&amp;nbsp;irritated&amp;nbsp;and my eyes were turning red from being poked so much, I just threw them on and let them be.&lt;br /&gt;*Pardon the center of my eyebrows, the lady who waxed my eyebrows told me I had to let them grow out because they didn't align with the center corner of my eyes. It's complicated. Grrr I just want to pluck it all out!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mM5OBF3GIGY/TkR1Arty4MI/AAAAAAAAAvg/DtAkCVJmUh0/s1600/IMG_0961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="260" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mM5OBF3GIGY/TkR1Arty4MI/AAAAAAAAAvg/DtAkCVJmUh0/s640/IMG_0961.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xwykMqeuPmI/TkR1GXzxWMI/AAAAAAAAAvk/8RLNWf48gzM/s1600/IMG_09677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xwykMqeuPmI/TkR1GXzxWMI/AAAAAAAAAvk/8RLNWf48gzM/s640/IMG_09677.jpg" width="470" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-1793539394287921204?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1793539394287921204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1793539394287921204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1793539394287921204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1793539394287921204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/longest-lashes.html' title='Longest Lashes'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mM5OBF3GIGY/TkR1Arty4MI/AAAAAAAAAvg/DtAkCVJmUh0/s72-c/IMG_0961.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5093949361986424701</id><published>2011-08-10T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T23:22:26.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ich Vermisse Dich</title><content type='html'>So, in the morning I had to go blueberry picking again which really sucked but whatever, I just took the whole time thinking some things through. Sunday I&amp;#39;m gonna have a talk with the priest about getting baptised and other things, like that I apparantly don&amp;#39;t know some of the Orthodox way of things. It shall be good, I know priests/pastors sons but I&amp;#39;ve never talked to a priest one on one before. In fact I&amp;#39;m nervous, I hope he won&amp;#39;t say something to make me want to postpone my baptism another 10 years. I highly highly doubt that, but it&amp;#39;s like what if I really don&amp;#39;t know the whole meaning of being baptised and all this other stuff? Which will make me want to be like ok whatever, put it on hold. But no, I will get baptised this year (or next) no matter what. I probably would of known a lot if my mum didn&amp;#39;t force me to her church that never taught me anything in my whole life. Grrrr bleh. &lt;br&gt;Our new district manager came to our store today and worked with us for a bit, I actually like her. She&amp;#39;s very upbeat and just cheerful. I dressed super nice in our store brand, to make a good first impression tehe. I closed with one of my managers that I close with the most. We laughed so much and so hard that night, I literally almost peed my pants (technically dress). We were mostly joking about getting angry at people and just things, and immitating uneccesary yelling. For some reason I always laugh when someones like pissed and yelling? I just naturally laugh when someones angry! Especially with my mum, she gets more and more angry cause I can&amp;#39;t stop laughing at her yelling and her growing anger makes my laughter grow. It reminded me of that time when me and my buddy were in Seattle and we walked by the first Starbucks ever and there was a huge line and he shouts at them &amp;quot;There&amp;#39;s a freakin Starbucks in every corner!&amp;quot; Man it was hilarious. &lt;br&gt;In fact, I wasn&amp;#39;t in such a cheerful mood that morning. Just kept thinking about all the people that had let me go at once. No one ever texts me anymore, it&amp;#39;s just dead, but I honestly don&amp;#39;t mind it. I did get one text message from my buddy that I was in Seattle with who lives in San Diego, saying he missed me. He always writes that, but this kind of came out of no where. I had the biggest smile on my face the rest of the day. Thinking about him gives me butterflies the size of eagels. It&amp;#39;s just so unusual, how such a handsome man like himself misses a little noobish Jewish looking girl like myself. At one moment I don&amp;#39;t believe it, but since it&amp;#39;s in such a constant basis, I do believe it. I can&amp;#39;t stop thinking about seeing his gorgeous face again, holding him in my arms. Patience is key in this situation though, which I have a lot of being so young. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m not happy here what so ever, but what makes me happy is knowing that the people far from me are actually thinking about me and even some loving me. It&amp;#39;s a great feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5093949361986424701?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5093949361986424701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5093949361986424701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5093949361986424701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5093949361986424701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/ich-vermisse-dich.html' title='Ich Vermisse Dich'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1492995299636426537</id><published>2011-08-09T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T16:07:21.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ie86xawKys0/TkIegsHRxNI/AAAAAAAAAvU/Nl9PwHC6TJ4/s1600/image-734440.png"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="420" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639103230367614162" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ie86xawKys0/TkIegsHRxNI/AAAAAAAAAvU/Nl9PwHC6TJ4/s640/image-734440.png" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K2v6f6fnJ_8/TkIeg82Z-rI/AAAAAAAAAvc/uWq4T5a5pdY/s1600/photo-735412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="426" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639103234860251826" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K2v6f6fnJ_8/TkIeg82Z-rI/AAAAAAAAAvc/uWq4T5a5pdY/s640/photo-735412.JPG" width="640" /&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/3610601959266713116-1492995299636426537?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1492995299636426537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1492995299636426537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1492995299636426537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1492995299636426537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ie86xawKys0/TkIegsHRxNI/AAAAAAAAAvU/Nl9PwHC6TJ4/s72-c/image-734440.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8902575505205604105</id><published>2011-08-09T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T13:03:07.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BP</title><content type='html'>So, long story short, I don't like it. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDuC06dhx1E/TkGSXF1UtSI/AAAAAAAAAvM/yCezhVLgXp8/s1600/IMG_0953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="558" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDuC06dhx1E/TkGSXF1UtSI/AAAAAAAAAvM/yCezhVLgXp8/s640/IMG_0953.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-8902575505205604105?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8902575505205604105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8902575505205604105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8902575505205604105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8902575505205604105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/bp.html' title='BP'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDuC06dhx1E/TkGSXF1UtSI/AAAAAAAAAvM/yCezhVLgXp8/s72-c/IMG_0953.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1939503856560431772</id><published>2011-08-08T00:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T00:30:58.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddies=Douchbags</title><content type='html'>So, Sunday I was simply not in a good mood. My buddy of over a year tells me not to text him anymore. This other guy I know came to church with his fiancee that I feel bad for cause I can see the sorrow in her eyes having to be with him. And my mum made me go to her church which I despise cause like I always tell her, I&amp;#39;d rather sleep at home than there, because I don&amp;#39;t get anything their saying. And I saw this other guy I knew at Olive Garden but I didn&amp;#39;t even say Hi or look at him cause just like the other douche bags, we hang out and &amp;#39;become real good friends and share secrets&amp;#39;, when all of a sudden they just act as if they never knew me before. It hurts, it hurts a lot. It hurts about the same as being broken up to by a boyfriend. But in this situation, it&amp;#39;s like finding out that your brother is really not your blood brother, he was just paid to make you believe he was. &lt;br&gt;Pissed off. I literally screamed in pain.&lt;br&gt;Such &amp;#39;cool&amp;#39; guys, all end up being complete retartds. I don&amp;#39;t like hanging or talking to girls much, so perhaps I should just be on my own again with my stuffed animals as I always have. At least they never annoy or hurt me. &lt;br&gt;I was looking through all my baby/kid pictures. It&amp;#39;s funny because the only way I remember being is very quiet. My mum even said she missed it when I was a little girl always sitting at the corner, blinking my big brown eyes, sitting there quietly. I guess I&amp;#39;m a wild child now cause I was tired of not knowing anyone because I never spoke. I miss being that quiet kid though, cause I never had any drama or problems with anyone or anything. &lt;br&gt;*side note* My buddy (whom I actually like like) just texted me Goodnight Milenkaya (it&amp;#39;s a cutesy russian word). Idk why I&amp;#39;m crying...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1939503856560431772?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1939503856560431772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1939503856560431772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1939503856560431772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1939503856560431772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/buddiesdouchbags.html' title='Buddies=Douchbags'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6098568617829358709</id><published>2011-08-06T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T21:38:57.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucker Punch Makeover</title><content type='html'>So, seeing the movie Sucker Punch (which I actually really really liked), I loved how all the girls makeup was done. Big lashes and smokey eyes, super cute and awesome. Lately I've been messing around with my own makeovers, trying to do stuff about the same. I don't have pics of my previous creations but I will when I remake them. I'm starting to have this weird obsession with fake lashes? I never really liked em, and thought they were only for special occasions. But I love wearing the pairs I have, and I also went to buy a few more. It's still tough putting them on, but the more I do it the better I get at it. Now I'm not as white as the main actress is in the movie, so my makeup doesn't have that doll look as it does on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img002.lazygirls.info/people/emily_browning/emily_browning_sucker_punch_makeup_tests_wA0OS72.sized.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-un_2C27CkyQ/Tj4WwAwW0YI/AAAAAAAAAvI/K1C_gr3brJI/s1600/makeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="332" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-un_2C27CkyQ/Tj4WwAwW0YI/AAAAAAAAAvI/K1C_gr3brJI/s640/makeup.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3610601959266713116-6098568617829358709?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6098568617829358709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6098568617829358709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6098568617829358709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6098568617829358709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/sucker-punch-makeover.html' title='Sucker Punch Makeover'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-un_2C27CkyQ/Tj4WwAwW0YI/AAAAAAAAAvI/K1C_gr3brJI/s72-c/makeup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4732719942633044033</id><published>2011-08-06T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T18:15:48.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretzal Love (more like Hate) 3</title><content type='html'>So, me and my co-workers were just talking and they were saying how much of a stalker I am which I didn&amp;#39;t deny that fact. I was telling them about that one guy at Auntie Anne&amp;#39;s (yes I know his name now ha) and my co-worker just says NO! She said their like mall buddies, and apparantly he&amp;#39;s married and possibly has kids. I was speechless. She said he&amp;#39;s nice to everyone, but the way I see it is far different. My previous posts on this clearly defines it, the way he acts around me and what not. Definitely not normal or the same for anyone else, but if that&amp;#39;s the case that he somehow IS married, than I clearly need to back off. Actually no, I&amp;#39;m not the one who needs to back off, he does! Why does he act in such a way, yet he&amp;#39;s (possibly) married. Either way I admit I was kind of heart broken, I felt like all those pretzals I bought and ate just to see him got clogged in my heart when I heard that news. I can&amp;#39;t find him on Facebook so I won&amp;#39;t know for sure, it honestly would be no surprise if he really was married though, I can see why any girl would want him in that way...&lt;br&gt;Life goes on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4732719942633044033?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4732719942633044033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4732719942633044033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4732719942633044033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4732719942633044033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/pretzal-love-more-like-hate-3.html' title='Pretzal Love (more like Hate) 3'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-2212012270302418289</id><published>2011-08-02T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T23:02:12.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretzel Love 2 / Hit &amp; Run</title><content type='html'>So, I went to Auntie Anne&amp;#39;s as always before work cause I was starving and was craving a sour cream and onion pretzel. I didn&amp;#39;t see any sign of that one guy I always saw. I was patiently waiting in line and I see him come out of the employee door and he sees me. I figured he was going on his lunch, but seeing through my peripheral vision, he seemed to be looking for something outside than walks back into the employees only area. I know what he did, I used to do that a lot. When you see someone you like in the same room and walk in without knowing (or perhaps knowing) they are there, you pretend to look for something or try to remember what your looking for which in reality, is nothing. I couldn&amp;#39;t stop smiling at how easy I caught him doing that. So I was finally paying and I see him come from the back room and speed to the cash register! He tells the guy that was working on my order to not forget to get my pretzel, the guy looked confused but was like alright. I smiled and laughed, and we waved bye as I was leaving. Ok, I&amp;#39;m not gonna make this sound all that great and this may be slightly harsh but he isn&amp;#39;t all That cute, well not my type I suppose. I stick to Slavics, which he&amp;#39;s not. But just his personality and that he gets out of his way just to say Hi is like the sweetest thing ever. He always makes my day. Plus it&amp;#39;s like everytime I see him, his heart stands out more than his looks. That&amp;#39;s what people really need to be looking at after all. I still havn&amp;#39;t got his name, but I will soon. &lt;p&gt;As I was looking through my Katu News app yesterday, I noticed one headline that had a picture of someone that looked kind of Uki. Well, he really ended up being Uki, and someone I know. He did a hit &amp;amp; run and that teen died on the spot. He turned himself 11hrs after the whole thing, it was also the day of his birthday. I knew him through my cousin, we&amp;#39;d always hang out together when we&amp;#39;d go to Portland. I was shocked, speechless, asking so many questions. He is definitely not the person to do such a thing, but I figured it was a huge accident is why he turned himself in. I think you&amp;#39;d have a lot of guts to turn yourself in, but perhaps that&amp;#39;s the best thing to do instead of having the cops hunting you down and recieving much bigger consiquences. I hope he will be okay, I hate seeing people I know go to prison if need be. Definitely going to keep him in my prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-2212012270302418289?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/2212012270302418289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=2212012270302418289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2212012270302418289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/2212012270302418289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/pretzel-love-2-hit-run.html' title='Pretzel Love 2 / Hit &amp; Run'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-5040561219947130534</id><published>2011-08-01T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T23:29:34.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-DmD3DEmvM/TjeZT4yMolI/AAAAAAAAAs0/OCdzsJKN9sc/s1600/photo-774980.PNG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-DmD3DEmvM/TjeZT4yMolI/AAAAAAAAAs0/OCdzsJKN9sc/s320/photo-774980.PNG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636142025616958034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-5040561219947130534?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/5040561219947130534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=5040561219947130534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5040561219947130534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/5040561219947130534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/08/stop-it.html' title='Stop It!'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-DmD3DEmvM/TjeZT4yMolI/AAAAAAAAAs0/OCdzsJKN9sc/s72-c/photo-774980.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4926566921449453052</id><published>2011-07-31T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T22:07:02.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends Day</title><content type='html'>So, it was finally Friends Day at church. I actually asked my parents if I could go which I never had done before. Surprisingly they said yes. It honestly feels good going to far places with permission, instead of lying by saying I&amp;#39;m going somewhere in the area or working. My dad was like &amp;quot;Be very careful driving&amp;quot;, I almost laughed. They have no idea how many times I&amp;#39;ve driven there. Anyways, I don&amp;#39;t believe it&amp;#39;s like National Friends Day, they just called the event that. They did a long worship in the beginning, than the pastor did his thing, than back to worship. Everything was set up so nicely than it usually is. The reason is cause they recorded the worship, audio for a new worship cd and video to make a dvd of it. It was awesome, pure awesomeness. I can&amp;#39;t wait till they come out with the cd and dvd, I hope they put me in the dvd =^_^= Afterwards we had BBQ outside, they used Trager grills so the burgers were soooo bomb! I mostly hung out with my friend Angelic, but ended up eating at a tabel with Avel and Dennis when she had to leave. Avel&amp;#39;s from Church of Truth and Dennis is from Voice of Hope (he has a really cool band too), really cool churches. They were there to help record the Worship, same with this other guy that added me on Facebook a long time ago but never knew him. He didn&amp;#39;t even know we were friends on there but it was nice meeting him in person finally anyway, super cool guy. Overall that whole shingdig was great. Oh and I also got invited to my buddies wedding there, I&amp;#39;m so excited! Unfortunately it&amp;#39;s the day after I wanted to leave to cali so I have to figure out a different plan for that. &lt;br&gt;Than I headed to downtown Salem to hang out with Lena again, cause she&amp;#39;s never really roamed through downtown. A lot of places were closed but there like lame places anyway. There was this small fest thing going on at the park called The Bite. It wasn&amp;#39;t anything big or even that special, but it was still chill to stroll through it. They had a tent with like reptiles and what not. There was one of those tropical birds sitting on a branch (forgot what they were called) that actually spoke English. It said Hello and Knock Knock. It would sometimes repeat what you would say to it too! It was weird talking to a bird, really weird. One guy was holding and showing a long snake and I said Louis Vutton would pay a buttload for that snakes skin to make a purse. He was like &amp;quot;No No No George (the snakes name) she&amp;#39;s kidding!&amp;quot; and the snake began to squirm under his arms. I laughed so hard. We also talked to some cops cause I wanted to know how to go on a ride along. I want to schedual one asap, hope there will be some crazy action when I do! We also walked through Salem Center and I bought a cute watch necklace at Nordstroms, the tag said $16 but it rang up $5.95! Score! We continued our roam through downtown and finally headed home. I was debating bout going to yecheika but decided not to cause I havn&amp;#39;t for a long time and wouldn&amp;#39;t feel comfortable being there I guess. All in all, it was a great blessed day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4926566921449453052?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4926566921449453052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4926566921449453052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4926566921449453052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4926566921449453052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/friends-day.html' title='Friends Day'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4835016656335275192</id><published>2011-07-31T00:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T00:21:24.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Perla</title><content type='html'>So, first off I had a really long slow day at work. It was another sidewalk sale which is kind of a big thing at the mall cause it obviously attracts a crap load of people. I really like having a lunch at work though, cause I never do. Right after I went to Outward Church which I havn&amp;#39;t in a while. There were only 2 kiddos there that I knew. After Saturdays service, the church always goes to La Perla right after which is a slightly small mexican restauraunt but at a neat location in downtown. I was hungry cause my teeth are numb and in pain from the rubber bands that are in the back of my teeth. All I had was Jamba Juice and Icee&amp;#39;s which is unexceptable but it&amp;#39;s tough to eat with numbed teeth. I figured soft tacos would be fine which thankfully it was. I went with Lena, one of the girls from Outward and also the sccs church. She&amp;#39;s such a cutie. Me and her actually never had alone time, so this was the first and it was great! We just kept talking and talking, for about 2 and a half hours. It was great, I wish every Saturday night was just like that. Going out to a restauraunt and talking foreverz. She, just like everyone else in Salem, has never explored downtown. I probably know how many sidewalk bricks there are there is how many times I&amp;#39;ve explored our little downtown. I really want to show her around on Sunday or Monday, it&amp;#39;ll be cool:) finally a girl I can chill with for once. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4835016656335275192?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4835016656335275192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4835016656335275192' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4835016656335275192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4835016656335275192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/la-perla.html' title='La Perla'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-856010023629885799</id><published>2011-07-29T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T22:39:33.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brace Face / Google+</title><content type='html'>So, I got up early morning to my first official&amp;nbsp;orthodontist&amp;nbsp;appointment. They mentioned something about only putting bands in between the back of my teeth so that over time they would&amp;nbsp;separate&amp;nbsp;a little. I figured I wouldn't have to worry but sad news is, they put brackets on my tops teeth. I did in fact get the clear brackets, not silver ones with colourful bands. Their not putting the wire just yet, so I have these plastic squares left glued on my teeth and rubber bands in between my teeth. It's not all that painful, just really uncomfortable. First thing I noticed is how my lips close now, definitely different than the way they usually always closed. I ate a cherry cause I didn't eat all day, and my teeth were throbbing so bad. It was my first day and I already didn't know how I was going to survive. I went to work which was optional but I didn't have anything to do anyway. I went to Jamba Juice twice next door, cause it's blended fruit (food) which is what I really needed. I'm really not looking forward to having the wire placed on next week, I'm told that things a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3iGehUCy20/TjOXClbUkMI/AAAAAAAAAsk/-7nsxp4uTwQ/s1600/280013_2134648919658_1049118413_2500632_4657309_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3iGehUCy20/TjOXClbUkMI/AAAAAAAAAsk/-7nsxp4uTwQ/s640/280013_2134648919658_1049118413_2500632_4657309_o.jpg" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Google has decided to make their own social networking site. In my like second post ever on my blog, I was comparing Facebook to Myspace and which I liked better. This was when Myspace was still the thing! And now I'm comparing Google+ to Facebook. Oh boy. I honestly didn't want to make one, but did anyway. In fact, when I wanted to sign up, you had to have an invite!? I patiently waited and one of my buddies sent me an invite. He was honestly the least person I expected an invite from, but of course I took it and signed up. Of course there's barely anyone I know on there. The reason why I like signing up for things that are just beginning to grow is so that if it gets really popular, I can be like "Yeaaaa I was one of the first people to sign up, back when you needed an invite" cause soon it'll be available to the public which won't be as cool. It's very basic, very very basic. But the thing is, it's a lot more fun and cool if you have the Google phone to go with it. That's a little too much to ask for though, but I bet if Facebook made a legit phone, people would actually get it just so that they can easily Facebook stuff more. You never know when one social networking site might get over powered by another though, that part of business is tough to work with. Plus I'm a Yahoo person, so Google in general isn't my thang ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Larry_large" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/11856785/larry_large.jpg?1310405315" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-856010023629885799?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/856010023629885799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=856010023629885799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/856010023629885799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/856010023629885799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/brace-face-google.html' title='Brace Face / Google+'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3iGehUCy20/TjOXClbUkMI/AAAAAAAAAsk/-7nsxp4uTwQ/s72-c/280013_2134648919658_1049118413_2500632_4657309_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1311857337226345577</id><published>2011-07-29T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T14:20:12.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously,Ew.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHt9NCFP6zM/TjMkDLAooSI/AAAAAAAAArI/5D_7VDOSqwg/s1600/photo-712420.PNG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHt9NCFP6zM/TjMkDLAooSI/AAAAAAAAArI/5D_7VDOSqwg/s320/photo-712420.PNG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634887195684282658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-1311857337226345577?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1311857337226345577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1311857337226345577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1311857337226345577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1311857337226345577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/seriouslyew.html' title='Seriously,Ew.'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHt9NCFP6zM/TjMkDLAooSI/AAAAAAAAArI/5D_7VDOSqwg/s72-c/photo-712420.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-6531644205739436604</id><published>2011-07-27T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T22:17:54.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretzel Love</title><content type='html'>So, there's this guy. Let me stop you now from what your most likely thinking. No it's not like that. Before work I usually always drop by Auntie Anne's for a yummy pretzel, which is either a&amp;nbsp;dollar&amp;nbsp;or two for mall associates. The associates of course always recognize me and ask me how I am. Funny story is this guy, I asked him for a pretzel+dip+drink. He gave me my dip+drink and told me have a nice day. I stood there emotionless, with a blank stare. He totally forgot about my pretzel! He realized his mistake and we all started busting out laughing (wait...I think I've blogged bout this already....oh well). I asked him if he really expected me to just eat the dip alone. Everytime I come now, he always says he won't forget:) I love how eager he is to serve me, especially when it's really busy. I can tell he tries to get done with the customers he's working with so that he can get to me. We were standing right in front of each other while I was looking down and he was putting pretzels in bags for these other customers. He looked up and whispered how I was doing, I looked up and said gooood =^_^= whatta cutie. I just like the fact that he's so eager to serve me when I come in, makes me feel like my visit is worth while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lnkqlefehj1qg6j9eo1_500_large" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/11410718/tumblr_lnkqlefeHj1qg6j9eo1_500_large.jpg?1309451408" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-6531644205739436604?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/6531644205739436604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=6531644205739436604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6531644205739436604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/6531644205739436604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/pretzel-love.html' title='Pretzel Love'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-8994865193837605815</id><published>2011-07-27T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T21:50:55.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting article,as much as I don't like crying babies,this lady has a point.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/family-bikes/2011/jul/27/kids-banned-airplanes-whats-next/#.TjDqbiCmYng.blogger"&gt;Kids banned from airplanes? What's next?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-8994865193837605815?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/8994865193837605815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=8994865193837605815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8994865193837605815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/8994865193837605815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/kids-banned-from-airplanes-whats-next.html' title='Interesting article,as much as I don&apos;t like crying babies,this lady has a point.'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-4014156196080434971</id><published>2011-07-26T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T14:27:43.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://76.my/Malaysia/hp-flash-drive-v165w-4gb-mini-mobile-hpfd165w-04-blue-1102-17-hardwarezone@148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://76.my/Malaysia/hp-flash-drive-v165w-4gb-mini-mobile-hpfd165w-04-blue-1102-17-hardwarezone@148.jpg" width="136" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I had my little lime green flash drive for as long as I could remember. I forgot it at the Goodwill Employment Center and called in to see if they had it. They were being dumb and said someone probably already took it for themselves or they donated it next door to Goodwill. How inconsiderate of them. It was my baby, I met no one with the same one. I looked for it online and it actually had been recalled so they don't make them anymore. I actually did find a few of the same on Ebay, but the problem was, the price. It only holds 512mb, and it was selling for around $10. With $10 you can find up to 16gb if your lucky enough. I'm very picky when it comes to flash drives, I hate when they slide out (which I have one but as a back up), or swivle around, and all this other&amp;nbsp;retarded&amp;nbsp;stuff. I just need a basic cap and that's it, and something really small. I hate those really long ones that only hold like 2gb, I mean I understand if it's just to have a better grip on it but still. So my hunt for a new perfect flash drive begun. As I was looking, I found it. A blue little flash drive, smaller than my ex-lime green one. Unfortunately it didn't have a cool blue LED light that my lime green one had that'd go off like a disco when you plugged it in, but it's still cute. I bought it for a good amount too. When it came in the mail, it came in a huge box!? I opened it and there was just a bunch of bubble wrap and I was scared they&amp;nbsp;might of&amp;nbsp;not sent me anything and just ripped me off, &amp;nbsp;but I found it hidden in the corner of the box. Yes it works perfectly fine so no they didn't rip me off in any way, they just reused a big amazon box they had I guess. It's very puny, 1/3 the size of my finger,I like it:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610601959266713116-4014156196080434971?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/4014156196080434971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=4014156196080434971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4014156196080434971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/4014156196080434971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-new-baby_5530.html' title='My New Baby'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610601959266713116.post-1633376613453957628</id><published>2011-07-25T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T14:27:22.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>48 Hours</title><content type='html'>So, Saturday I was&amp;nbsp;awfully tried at work so I had a Rockstar which definitely kept me up...till forever. I get a text at 1 at night, from a fellow I know from church. It was an invite to Shari's with his mate because they were gonna work on a song for a wedding that Sunday. I've helped them before, and considering I couldn't sleep and was bored, I snuck out and went.&amp;nbsp;I was there till 5 but they stayed way later, they had a really hard time finding a song to make lyrics for. I never liked sunrises, they make me cranky when my room gets brighter and brighter (my blinds don't close well). The sun was rising as I was driving home, and it actually looked really cool. It made all the mountains and hills black towards the east. I've never seen anything like it, Mt.Hood was black! I got home and slept for about 4 hours, than headed to church in Portland. I picked up my cousin along the way cause she wanted to check it out, which was cool cause I never have company come with me. After service I went around to say Hi to everyone, especially to this one guy I know from Seattle that I&amp;nbsp;haven't&amp;nbsp;seen for a long time, he was sitting right behind me too the whole time! When I saw him, I wanted to shout out Dima reallllly loud. I miss a lot of Washington faces. His girlfriend was there too, she's really hot. She asked how me and him were&amp;nbsp;acquainted, and with everyone else really. I never thought about that, I guess it's because I get around a lot. I am a social butterfly, so it'd be hard to miss me. Plus, it's such a small world, you shouldn't be surprised that you know someone, that knows someone, that knows someone, that you also know.&amp;nbsp;I took my cousin home than went to Borders which I talked about in a previous post. Went home, than to the park with the sccs youth which was super chill! My cousin was taking his mum to the airport, and I just had to go. 3 at night and we hit the road. There was so much lightning, it was really cool! And I saw the biggest shooting star of my life, so big and beautiful that I didn't even know what to wish for. We finally made it to the airport, and I helped my aunt check-in her bags and what not. I loveeeeeee the airport, the smell of it, the rolling luggage, and of course the airplanes. There was a pilot and his crew that walked by me, I couldn't help but smiling at them. They gave me a blank stare, not knowing why I was smiling so big. Me and my cousin went to the parking garage to watch the planes from there, but the very top floor was closed. My cousin had an idea though, to go to the second highest floor and walk up the blocked stares to the top. We walked out into the parking lot and it was completely empty, besides cones and some construction cars. I was worried there might of been security there or cameras that would lead security to come. There was no one and nothing. So we proceeded to the side where the airplanes were and watched the few that arrived and departed. The crappy part about the airport in the middle of the night is that there are way less planes than there are during the day. There's probably a plane departing/arriving every 30min. instead of every 5min. We were there as the sun was rising, it was so cool to see Columbia River become more visible and just the big sky turning lighter. It started pouring so we headed inside for some Jamba, than finally headed home. Of course I passed out! I will remember those 48 hours, but now I'm gonna need to catch up on my 48 hours of sleep I missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/3610601959266713116-1633376613453957628?l=alesa-alesa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/feeds/1633376613453957628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610601959266713116&amp;postID=1633376613453957628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1633376613453957628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610601959266713116/posts/default/1633376613453957628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alesa-alesa.blogspot.com/2011/07/48-hours.html' title='48 Hours'/><author><name>Alesa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16599812998762455489</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g35_KTj-9IQ/TvqVWJ0rAVI/AAAAAAAAA4c/f2KzXg4gXkE/s220/IMG_0120.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
