<?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-7165996784458770663</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:24:00.431-04:00</updated><category term='Random'/><title type='text'>I got distracted...</title><subtitle type='html'>I think about of a lot random things that don't make sense when I try to say them, so I'm just trying to get my thoughts out of my head. Plus, I occasionally have really "light bulb" moments, then I forget about them.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-6230716866395391240</id><published>2009-10-06T00:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:10:22.307-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i love a boston bean.</title><content type='html'>Jus so u know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-6230716866395391240?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/6230716866395391240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=6230716866395391240' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/6230716866395391240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/6230716866395391240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-love-boston-bean.html' title='i love a boston bean.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-8963947700407981609</id><published>2009-09-03T19:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:04:17.685-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the grass IS greener in greenville</title><content type='html'>Not really, but I like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's actually dry and orangey... and the dirt is red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roads here are named with absolutely no common logic. They criss-cross and change name before you even know what happened. There are 3 "Phillips Rd."s within in a 10 mile radius of where I used to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet tea is the south's crack. You wouldn't believe the mass amounts of it the people here drink. They should get their sugar checked... overload!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer I went to the Rocky Mountains on vacation. I saw the kind of country shit you see on the movies. We stayed up the road from people who have 2 goats, 4 chickens and a pony.. for pets. But on our lil piece of heaven, life was rather relaxing. There was a creek that ran 50 feet from the property. Bugs were rather minimal. We could walk up 100 yards and sit under a waterfall. One trip in particular reminded me of a very distinct memory of a night at the reservoir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recycling... Don't let the mass amount of options around the city mistake you. On the whole, recycling is taken rather seriously and is plentiful. However, this city is made up of a lot of implants. Mostly, Yankees. I have noticed a trend that southern bred people are more stubborn about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time I've been on the internet in 2 months. I'm a disgrace to my generation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-8963947700407981609?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/8963947700407981609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=8963947700407981609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/8963947700407981609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/8963947700407981609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2009/09/grass-is-greener-in-greenville.html' title='the grass IS greener in greenville'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-2357791069409190261</id><published>2009-06-14T01:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T01:41:25.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Being mature enough to fall in love</title><content type='html'>I don't think there is an age minimum or limit on love, but I do think you have to have a certain amount of maturity to love someone. I know someone that is claiming to be in love with her boyfriend. That's bullshit. She's not even mature enough to understand the concept of cleaning up after yourself. How the hell is she supposed to be in love. You also can't love someone for who they are until you know who you are. And now she can barely be without him. Literally, they spend every waking moment together, and it's just not healthy. Ugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I am not the most mature 22 year old on the planet, but I try. And I'm very sure of myself. Overly, maybe so. The fact of the matter is I love someone. With all of my everything, actually. I know exactly what my everything is, so I can say that. Granted, I think shit and do shit all the time that I don't understand. But that's the beauty of the human mind, there's always something new to learn about yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of maturity, what is the best way to deal with other people's immaturity? Do you call them out on it? Do you try to direct them to the road to maturity? Do you sit back and let them fall? I'd like to speak to someone very old and very mature and hear what their thoughts on that question are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like a mentor, I think. Someone that I can open my mind enough to to actually take in their advice and open up about my flaws to. I know that I need some help sorting through my crazies. Teesha helps with that. Real talk, that girl is so good at figuring me out. And at helping me figure myself out. Her presence alone gives me light bulb  moments (aka insights into my own mind aka reality checks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a rambling blog, but I like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-2357791069409190261?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/2357791069409190261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=2357791069409190261' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2357791069409190261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2357791069409190261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2009/06/being-mature-enough-to-fall-in-love.html' title='Being mature enough to fall in love'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-4602668521471631899</id><published>2009-05-31T00:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T01:05:08.931-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the beauty of a spaceship ride.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday at work was really lame. I made one mistake and instead of constructive criticism, I got a condescending tone and tisks of the tongue (which I loathe, by the way). I will be the first to admit that I made a mistake. I should have double checked, but I really was just trying to be helpful. When I asked in a polite tone "Please don't have an attitude with me," person was all on the defensive. I have learned that people only get defensive if they have nothing to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, however, was a completely different story. I liked all of the other servers, I was super organized and motivated, and we rocked that party out. Really, I have never seen us work so efficiently that we were done before the people had even completely left the room. Team work is really a good thing, but the problem is people don't work as a team EVER. Especially not where I work. Because everybody's got some crab up their ass that's got them pinched. Rumors are flying everywhere n shit. Idk, I think I need a new job. Ugh, I hate starting new jobs and then I gotta work all hard again. But I guess I'm already working my tail off so might as well go somewhere people aren't out to get me. I've never worked with a staff that is like this. Maybe it's the damn southerners (god love 'em). And they practically refuse to recycle! Bitches...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-4602668521471631899?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/4602668521471631899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=4602668521471631899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/4602668521471631899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/4602668521471631899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2009/05/oh-beauty-of-spaceship-ride.html' title='Oh the beauty of a spaceship ride.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-8177822562678079987</id><published>2009-05-29T01:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T01:39:14.828-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am in a fantastic mood.</title><content type='html'>Hello all. Sorry for the length between my posts, but without a working keyboard typing is really a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking a lot lately about good people, and what the definition of a good person is. I realized there really isn't one distinct definition. There are so many different ways to be good. I do wrong things all the time, I'm well aware that I'm far from perfect. However, I still consider myself a good person. I try to look out of others and have their backs. Giving to others makes me life more well rounded. And I really believe in Karma. (And stoner's karma for that matter). I started putting any pennies I get in the "leave a penny" jar, or I give them to my aunt. I swear good things have come to be ever since then. Not anything overly drastic, but little good things to make my day better. But then I know others that aren't necessarily givers, but they're good people all the same. I guess they're givers just in unconventional ways. But then there are those people that claim to be givers, when really they're so surrounded by themselves they couldn't give someone a handshake if they wanted to. I can't stand those type of people. That are so flippin' high on their horses that they think everyone owes them something! I mean come on, with all the bad things in our world, not getting you're convertible isn't the end of life as you know it. It all comes down to give a little, take a little. Everyone just needs to find the balance...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-8177822562678079987?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/8177822562678079987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=8177822562678079987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/8177822562678079987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/8177822562678079987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-am-in-fantastic-mood.html' title='I am in a fantastic mood.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-5901790631653239070</id><published>2009-01-09T00:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T12:50:48.194-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I really did get distracited.</title><content type='html'>I've been slacking on the blog posting as of late. I know only 2 people read this, but now you can be atleast a little more updated on my life. Apparently! I failed in the updating my friends on goings on department. Please keep in mind this is supposed to be me venting... so anything said can not and will not be held against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got into a a government/politics mind set tonight. I don't know where they come from. When I get such moods, I suddenly become a (self titled as it may be) political genius. Who knows if I actually am having brilliantly bright light bulb moments, but maybe I skipped the day the handed out the light bulbs. HA I got that from the south.. people down here are nuts man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been very discontent from the fact that we pay taxes when we make it and we pay taxes when we spend it. I don't understand it. Maybe that's because I'm most definitely NOT a political genius. I was thinking about this... If the general idea of the government and taxing  is this: We work to make money so we can spend it essentially how we please, and the government is there to help us regulate and better the things we as the people do not have the time or want to do. (i.e. paving the streets, paying the teachers etc. etc.) So if the government is just helping us regulate, why should they be making money off it more than what we are? Why should they be paid more? I dont know.. I thought I was having good ideas but now I keep talking them through in my hand and finding flaws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it possible to prevent hang nails? They're really a bitch. I need a fix, quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a cold right now. I've been coughing up unmentionable things. As long as they stay away from looking like blood I'm straight, I hope. Ive been sneezing a lot, and usually I only sneeze when I walk out into the sunlight. it's always dramatic and my mom &amp;amp; andrea will vouch that those sneezes are dramatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never seen Lara Croft before... it's kinda lame. Angelina's accent is cheesy and the directing w as lame. But it does have the sexy man from ps. i love you. he's adorable. i think angelina's bout to kick his ass. Nope he knocked her out.. man damn! Her eyes look fucked up in this scene and damn she killed him! how'd she do that? Apparently she's just gonna leave someone she was supposedly in love with lying there, I would atleast cover him up or something. Was that supposed to be Pandora's box? oh i guess maybe, idk what this movie's called&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-5901790631653239070?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/5901790631653239070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=5901790631653239070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5901790631653239070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5901790631653239070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-really-did-get-distracited.html' title='I really did get distracited.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-4306991567442005498</id><published>2008-12-18T00:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T00:25:29.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Spirit</title><content type='html'>Christmas is upon us and it's putting me in a weird, sexy super comfortable mood. I can feel myself changing for the better and I'm loving it. That's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-4306991567442005498?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/4306991567442005498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=4306991567442005498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/4306991567442005498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/4306991567442005498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/12/holiday-spirit.html' title='Holiday Spirit'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-4866876447979948104</id><published>2008-12-02T22:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T22:31:48.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey y'all.</title><content type='html'>That's right, I say y'all now. I've got a fucked up southern/yankee accent &amp;amp; I'm lovin it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm dating a girl now. It's been very thrilling. I'm crazy about her and she's so good to me. I've never been with someone who makes me feel so good about myself. She makes me laugh and we play around like were kids sometimes, which is good for the soul. I haven't told a lot of people outside of South Carolina. I told my brother, he says I'm literally losing my mind. Which is a very good point. But where is the fun in life if your always trying to keep your sanity? Anyways, I can totally be myself with her &amp;amp; she still likes me! It's crazy, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm a calm person now. I'm the cool headed member of my family. I have to be, or we'd all be going nuts. Well, we're all nuts anyways but that's besides the point. The best thing I've learned lately is that every situation had more than 1 perspective, &amp;amp; I should &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; consider the idea that my perspective may be a little off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I miss Ohio. I'm coming home from the 23rd to the 26th. Not long, but that's all I could get off work. I miss Columbus the most. Gah, I love that city. All of my friends there, my favorite restaurants &amp;amp; most of all, my apartment. I could seriously cry thinking about how much I miss that apartment. If I ever move back to Columbus (let's pray wherever I move after here is warmer) I want that exact apartment back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It's cold as fuck here. I am NOT impressed. I was told it would be warm here &amp;amp; it's fucking freezing my ass off everyday!! Not happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I miss my Andie. I need to hear see her smile. I need to hear her laugh. I need to sit on her back porch, chain smoke &amp;amp; complain about life. Too bad she doesn't even live in that apartment anymore. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I've never been more thankful for my friend Dan. Hey man, I miss you! Call me every once in a while would you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you,&lt;br /&gt;Samantha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-4866876447979948104?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/4866876447979948104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=4866876447979948104' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/4866876447979948104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/4866876447979948104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/12/hey-yall.html' title='Hey y&apos;all.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-102512553264400838</id><published>2008-10-22T18:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T18:25:05.587-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm alive, I swear.</title><content type='html'>South Carolina has found a way to occupy me so much that I am never even near a computer. But I'm having a bad day today so I need to vent. So here I am venting to a computer screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started a new job on Monday. I was late because of a car accident on the highway (out of my control, ya know?). Well today I was throwing up all day and I asked them if me going home would get me fired. They said "no put your health first". Then they call me and say don't come back tomorrow. So FUCKING pissed. Also pissed because I thought maybe just maybe this situation would finally get me to cry again, NOTHIN. WTF mate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a boyfriend now, but he's been incredibly inconsiderate lately so who knows what's going to happen. We're really good together, and we have a lot of fun. He makes me laugh and I know he cares about me so that's always good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I haven't been doing anything but hanging out of my girl MJ. Dan Cohen, that was for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. i miss my friends terribly today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-102512553264400838?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/102512553264400838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=102512553264400838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/102512553264400838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/102512553264400838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-alive-i-swear.html' title='I&apos;m alive, I swear.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-5518346847665981971</id><published>2008-08-13T17:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T17:35:13.632-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When did I get so philosphical?</title><content type='html'>In any case, I am and feel as I ever will be, a jumbled mess of emotion. I am trying to make sense of it all by reading things by Nelson Mandela and Ghandi. Hoping and praying that somewhere in their divine wisdom I will find a saving grace. Something, anything to save me from myself. I wish I could just reach deep into my mind and find out what it is I really want. I have a (rather soul crushing) idea of what it is, and I am not willing to face it. I need to figure it out soon though, before I hurt the ones I care about the most in the process. I am not sure why this is, but it seems whenever I am trying to find what makes me happy I end up hurting everyone I care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had a moment when you realize you made a huge mistake in the past? I had a moment similar to this last night. I realized I did something out of pure selfishness and stupidity. And now more than ever I regret it. I can't remember why I did it either, which is even more concerning. I have to force myself not to think of how different my life would be if I had stepped down from my pedestal and had some patience all those years ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress, I am not sure I will ever truly know myself. Or if anyone does. I think the idea is to find someone who can help you find yourself a little more everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony." Ghandi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-5518346847665981971?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/5518346847665981971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=5518346847665981971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5518346847665981971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5518346847665981971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-did-i-get-so-philosphical.html' title='When did I get so philosphical?'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-5845739543782771829</id><published>2008-08-08T02:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T03:32:07.781-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Places I'd Like to See</title><content type='html'>I have offially made my "Bucket List", if you will...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has 33 places (or had since I can't currently find my beloved list). Mostly, places that are extremely beautiful. Versailles being a main one. Why Versailles you may ask? I love Marie Antoinette! I'm not sure what is so interesting about her, but I have read about 20 biographies (I get bored quite often at work). Ever since I watched the movie, I've been a little obsessed. It's ranking right up there with my weird Judaism obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH Let me just tell you about the strangest/most embarassing/scariest conversation I had with my mother the other day. We were discusing a certain someone and their significant other being Jewish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suz: "All I wanna know is if they celebrate Christmas"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well, considering they don't believe Christ was the son of God, I'm gonna go with no."&lt;br /&gt;Suz: "What the hell, don't they read the New Testament?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No, actually they don't"&lt;br /&gt;Suz: "So, can we still give presents?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well they celebrate Hannukah. They will accept presents though. You're confusing Judaism with Jehova's Witness"&lt;br /&gt;Suz: "WTF is Hannukah? What about Easter?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Do we need to revisit the idea of not believing Christ is the son of God?"&lt;br /&gt;Suz: "Whatever, I don't understand maybe I should take a class"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the concept of just listening to her daughter is completely ungraspable and she must take higher education (after almost 40 year haitus). Crazy woman...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to my bucket list. I find it extremely sad and rather pathetic that I am going on 22 (scary thought, I like being 21) and I have yet to leave the country. I mean, I love America (That is &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;unAmerican!), but it's rather flat and bland where I come from. That's why I can't wait to teach Spanish is some obscure country. Not that anwhere that speaks Spanish and that is actually safe is all that obscure, but hey it's different than here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a strange urge to look at beautiful things lately.. I'm not sure where it's stemming from but I'm sure I will be analyzing the shit of out it in the coming weeks so I'll give you an update. Although, I digress, my analytical skills are taking a serious hit with the lack of mental stimulus in my system. Damn, I knew I shouldn't have quit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-5845739543782771829?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/5845739543782771829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=5845739543782771829' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5845739543782771829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5845739543782771829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/08/places-id-like-to-see.html' title='The Places I&apos;d Like to See'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-1247880158200689620</id><published>2008-07-30T18:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T18:35:46.989-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh how fast life can change.</title><content type='html'>Update Alert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now officially moved back to Arlington. I am enrolled for classes at the Univ. I am only working part-time at AirChef now. I'm actually really glad this is happening. I should be able to actually get out of debt!! Wo hoo! My best friend just bought her first home. And I'll actually be around to help and watch at it makes its transformation from kinda dumpy to beautiful! (Lets me honest here, Ill be doing the easy work, plus I know Andrea won't trust me with anything too imporant LOL). I'm finally reconnecting with old friends. It feels good to be comfortable somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise God for reading the signs in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-1247880158200689620?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/1247880158200689620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=1247880158200689620' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/1247880158200689620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/1247880158200689620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh-how-fast-life-can-change.html' title='Oh how fast life can change.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-155780823793926015</id><published>2008-07-18T15:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T15:30:15.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Post</title><content type='html'>I'm blogging because Andrea says I need to. What shall I blog about?? I have nothing really to say. I mean, I have plenty to say, but nothing I want others to hear or anyone would want to hear for that matter. Anyways, people are fuckin' shady! That's all I have to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-155780823793926015?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/155780823793926015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=155780823793926015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/155780823793926015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/155780823793926015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-post.html' title='New Post'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-2928590750979454184</id><published>2008-07-07T21:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T21:41:45.055-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I really love cheese.</title><content type='html'>So I'm eating cheese.. at AirChef (because where else am I ever?). And I really LOVE cheese. I think it may very well be my favorite food. But that's not &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; what this blog is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I really don't know what I feel like writing about. My mind is rather blank at the moment, it's kind of nice. Although! I did have self defining moment last night. I used to say I was overly honest, but I decided that's not really the truth at all. I'm just very direct. I ask for what I want and I am not afraid to say how I feel. Atleast the majority of the time. Unless saying how I feel would make me feel vulnerable, that shit I keep locked in a closet 7 floors below the bomb sheltair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I miss my best friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-2928590750979454184?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/2928590750979454184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=2928590750979454184' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2928590750979454184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2928590750979454184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-really-love-cheese.html' title='I really love cheese.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-2448243573270915011</id><published>2008-07-05T03:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T04:33:20.519-04:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI, If you will...</title><content type='html'>It's 4 am and I'm supposed to be writing about myself... but I'm finding it difficult to put a finger on who I am right now... mostly because it's 4 am and my brain is not fully functioning, but also because I have no clue whatsoever who I am or what I want to be. Also, let me preface this entire blog with the statement that I lack the normal spelling skills of a 21 year old. I'm not sure when this problem developed, but it is a problem and just rest assured that I am aware of it. Dan, this is for you so you better appreciate it bc talking about myself is boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I enjoy embracing being young and blonde. The most fun is fucking with people. I thoroughly enjoy putting on a show for people just to see how they react. I have learned never to pretend to be something you're not if you plan on ever going back to that place, because my your lies always catch up to you. I mean, these are little white lies just to make an evening interesting. When you pretend to tell someone your life story, and then you see them again and can't remember what story you told them, you look like boo boo the fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I believe I was meant to have an athletic body, had I just taken better care of myself over the past 3 years. Thankfully I am starting to get back to a much more appropriate weight and physique (sp?). I love to bike ride and ski. Mostly because neither require hand-eye coordination, which I lack to the extreme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I find all religions, languages and cultures interesting. If I could specialize in anything I wanted to, I would go into sociology. But instead I have decided to actually make money with my living and go into hotels. Not just hotels per say, more like rich bitch resorts, etc. I also love Spanish, and am thoroughly annoyed with myself that I lose it more and more everyday. Although, I do have the occasional dream in Spanish so I must not be that bad. Oh, and there's my slight obsession with Judaism. You should read "The Chosen" by Chaim Potok, it changed my whole outlook on life. You can borrow my copy, if you need. I am not practically religious. Ok let's be honest here I'm not religious at all. I do however, love to study Christianity. My minor is Religion with a Biblical Studies emphasis. My favorite college class was "The Old Testament". That and my religion film analysis class, but I stopped going and failed, so scratch that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Speaking of failing, I hate college. Mostly I dispise the idea of paying someone for them to tell me what to do and when to do it. I absolutely HATE  being told what to do. If you just add a please and thank you onto anything, I will offer my services gratiously (well, most of the time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My best friends of all time are Andrea and Brandon. They are the only two people that I have actually stayed close with through thick and thin over a very significant period of time. Andrea lives in Findlay (I know you're reading this, I love you, take a deep breath today and remember that everything will be alright in the end.) Brandon lives in Pheonix (stupid jerk left me here in cold ass Ohio!) I have several new found best friends. Seama is my Columbus girl. Hudson in my guy's guy friend. Tony lives in Vegas and I miss him :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I love animals with a few exceptions. I hate moths. I'm just scared of them really. It's an irrational fear, I know, but we all have them so try not to make fun. I find fish adorable, but all kinds of slimey badness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I tend to be overly honest. It's gets me in trouble sometimes. Actually now that I think about it I'm like the two opposite ends of the spectrum. There are something I will always tell the truth about, if it's inappropriate or hurts someone. There are other things I will always bullshit you about. I can't help it really, I just like to judge people's reactions. I'm overly analytical the majority of the time. It's exhausting really. Also, I'm a terrible secret keeper. Don't tell me anything you really need kept secret. It's not that want others to know things I just get over excited about things sometimes and information just comes flowing from my lips. (BTW I cut my lip off in 1st grade... I'll show the scar if you want)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. My body is practically falling apart. I have aches and pains like a 90 year old. I blame dancing from such a young age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I used to fall for guys really easily. I have learned to restrain myself, thank God. I really don't like sappy moments. I find them awkward and too mushy. I can enjoy a good chick flick when I'm in the right mood. I will tell everyone that I love them, because you never know when you'll never be able to tell them again. Being in love however is a different story. I think you can love someone you're dating before you're in love with them. ActuallyI think it's essential that you have that. Because that means you've built a friendship instead of just a romantic relationship. If you simply have romance and no base, then what do you do when the romance fades and you're in a relationship that you can't depend on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I'm exhausted and my fingers are starting to cramp up. If you want to know more detailed information, I guess you'll have to ask for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh also, I love the Yankees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-2448243573270915011?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/2448243573270915011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=2448243573270915011' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2448243573270915011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2448243573270915011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/07/fyi-if-you-will.html' title='FYI, If you will...'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-7546820796442496879</id><published>2008-07-04T23:44:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T00:34:04.297-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>7 more hours of boredom...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The fact that I don't know what to write about is exactly the kind of bull shit I've been dealing with in my life for about a month now. Let me tell you, it's getting &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; annoying. The only thing that I really feel passionate about it moving to Ireland. However, I really don't think that's going to solve any of my problems, unfortunately. I also am &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; craving Las Vegas. It's getting out of hand. If only I wasn't broke... then I could actually do things that make me happy. I have decided however that I need to start volunteering again. I think I'm going to join a church. That way I can volunteer in the nursery (because I'm also craving babies... just for small amts of time bc Lord knows I do NOT want a child) and I could sing in church too. I mean, singing about God and blabitty blue isn't exactly what I'd like to being singing about, but it's better than nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Maybe I should become a flight attendant, I think I would really like that. (P.s. if you're reading this and you work in aviation.. preferrably private... hook a girl up!) AirChef is getting extremely OLD. The people are all fucking idiots the majority of the time, Equal Opportunity MY ASS, plus I'm so sick of staring at these ugly piss yellow walls! NetJets is hiring, but since I sincerely dislike just about everyone that works at that company, I'd prefer not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Side note: half of the huge ass tree in my mom's backyard just randomly fell down today. For no practicular reason, it wasn't even storming. It's very strange...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;HEY ANDREA!! Did you still wanna go to the drive-in next weekend? If so, pencil me in cause I'm totally game. Can we take your truck so we can be comfortable and all... Also, can we not invite anyone else? I'm ready for a girl's night. OK THANKS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;BTW, doesn't the drive-in just sound like so much fun? I'm craving it like string cheese right now. Oh, you should know, I love cheese.. if you put an entire wheel in front of me, I would eat it all, its SO GOOD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I think I have gotten rid of all of my random thoughts for the evening, and now Andrea can stop bitching that I haven't posted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Love most of you... S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-7546820796442496879?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/7546820796442496879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=7546820796442496879' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/7546820796442496879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/7546820796442496879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/07/7-more-hours-of-boredom.html' title='7 more hours of boredom...'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-2044582031630199586</id><published>2008-07-02T18:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T18:32:39.259-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Venting</title><content type='html'>People really confused the shit out of me. Why does it seem like the majority of my friends pick the worst time possible to start being shitty to me? I have about a total of 5 people I can truly count on. That is just ridiculous. (Side note, never trust anyone!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this blog is TRUST. I'm going to stop giving people the benefit of the doubt. When I meet someone, I'm going to assume I can't trust them until they earn my trust. Then they'll probably lose it so what's the fucking point of it all? Fuck it, I'm moving to Ireland.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-2044582031630199586?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/2044582031630199586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=2044582031630199586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2044582031630199586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2044582031630199586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/07/venting.html' title='Venting'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-614187344051370283</id><published>2008-06-06T07:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T07:32:43.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For my best girl.</title><content type='html'>I love you, now read these quotes (Bc I know youre the only one that reads my blog).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Enjoy life, there's plenty of time to enjoy being dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;"Every time you wake up and ask yourself, &lt;i&gt;"What good things am I going to do today?"&lt;/i&gt;, remember that when the sun goes down at sunset, it will take a part of your life with it."&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO FOR &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt; TODAY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;To live with the conscious knowledge of the shadow of uncertainty, with the knowledge that disaster or tragedy could strike at any time; to be afraid and to know and acknowledge your fear, and still to live creatively and with unstinting love: that is to live with grace.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^MAYBE YOURE GOING THROUGH ALL OF THIS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO BE THE KIND OF WOMAN PEOPLE WILL WRITE ABOUT IN 100 YEARS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;"Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well."&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^YOU'VE GOT A LOT GOING FOR YOU, SO JUST EMBRACE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^I REALLY HAVE NO PHILOSOPHICAL COMMENT FOR THIS, BUT HEY, TREASURE CAN NEVER BE A BAD THING. UNLESS I SUPPOSE YOU'RE LIKE A DEAD BODY HUNTER OR SOMETHING AND ROTTING CORPSES ARE YOUR TREASURE, ANYWAYS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;About all you can do in life is be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won't like you at all.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^^THIS ONE IS THE STORY OF OUR LIVES^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;In the final analysis, the questions of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^I THINK YOU CAN FIGURE THAT ONE OUT OF YOUR OWN HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;Everything starts with yourself -- with you making up your mind about what you're going to do with your life. I tell kids that it's a cruel world, and that the world will bend them either left or right, and it's up to them to decide which way to bend.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;^I KNOW YOU GOT KICKED IN THE ASS, BUT ARE YOU GOING TO KICK BACK OR JUST TAKE LIKE A LITTLE BITCH BENT OVER THE COUCH? (FOR SOME REASON I PICTURED STEVE SIMS WHEN I TYPED THAT.... MUST HAVE BEEN A DRUNKEN STORY TELL TIME)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if none of these tickle your fancy, well then here you go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;“&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/life_goes__on_even_when_we-re_ready_to_quit-there/251033.html"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Life goes  on&lt;/b&gt; even when we're ready to quit. There is only one person I am living for, and if I can't have him, I want to be a Nun, and I am not even Catholic.&lt;/a&gt;”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-614187344051370283?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/614187344051370283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=614187344051370283' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/614187344051370283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/614187344051370283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/06/for-my-best-girl.html' title='For my best girl.'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-5992840302788501270</id><published>2008-06-04T00:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T01:21:06.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Continually fighting...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;As we all walk through life, we're consistently fighting. It may not always seems hard, which is what people usually classify as the main characteristic  of fighting, but really we are. If we're not fighting each other, were fighting to learn and grow and become wealthier (aahh that right there is something beautiful to be fighting for... anyways). The reality of it all is that we need to know ourselves well enough to decide when something is worth fighting for. I get extremely disappointed when I hear someone say "I know you, and this is what you want/need/would do". That's total bullshit. No one else is in my brain (thank goodness!) and no one else can really, thoroughly and completely understand &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;. The hard part is getting to know yourself. Sometimes the best remedy is spending time alone (a good bubble bath is always a plus), but you can't learn everything about yourself until you look at how other people make you feel, how you act around other people and essentially how others make you react. I truly suggest finding one (more, if you can) person that is constantly challenging your mind and your personality. Someone that always makes you think outside of the normal realm thought. Someone that helps you learn more about yourself. Because once you've delved deep enough into yourself, you can decide if what you're fighting for is worth it. It's doesn't always have to be something you want, either. Fighting for things can be absolutely worth it if it's what's right, or what's meant to be. If you love someone so much you want whatever is best for them and what's best for them isn't necessarily what is best for you, then fight for it. Do it because it's the right thing to do. Do it because eventually someone is going to love you that much, and if you have the right frame of mind, you can let them help you get whatever you want. It is human nature to be kind. And if being kind hurts you, then so be it, because if doing something nice for someone else is what's right, just fucking suck it up and fight for it. I am a true believer that we are all products of our environments. We do as we know. But if you challenge what you know, then you're more likely to fight what situation your environment has put you in. Don't get me wrong, if your situation is making you happy and you feel that your life is worth living, then just fight to keep it that way. You don't always have to be changing to be learning. But for God's sake, always try to be learning. Not just from books or learning what people tell you to learn, but try to learn to better yourself. You can always make yourself better, always. And if you fight for the right things, then you're probably going to benefit from it in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And someday, when you have learned exactly what it is that you want to fight for, I hope that you find someone that wants to be there right by your side while you're dong it, because that is exactly what love is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-5992840302788501270?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/5992840302788501270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=5992840302788501270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5992840302788501270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/5992840302788501270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/06/continually-fighting.html' title='Continually fighting...'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165996784458770663.post-2282766080859726305</id><published>2008-05-29T20:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T20:30:45.121-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Things?</title><content type='html'>I've been really pondering about things that are supposedly bad or wrong. How can something that feels good be bad? That confused me. Why would God put something on Earth (or whatever higher being there is) if it wasn't supposed to be used by humans?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new theory is:&lt;br /&gt;If you think about the entire history of the human race (100s of years back) and put in a time frame that is one thing spread out of a long period time. Basically, we're getting smarter and smarter, and making things easier and easier. What if God is just kicking back and watching his children learn more and more. Like he's making everything like this so that we can slowly get smarter and smart and eventually as smart as him. Wouldn't that be crazy? I hope that really is the way it is. Maybe I should write a book about this or something, because to me it's a brilliant idea. I would enjoy that. It's basically what we do when we raise children. They are small and unintelligent. And slowly they learn things, their brains grow, and life gets easier for them. (Minus the diseases, etc, that I believe humans brought on themselves with a lack of preparation and knowledged before we brought new things in our world)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, my life goals are to know a bunch of really random information, have a really strong mind, and a lot of money would be fantastic. I wanna own a BBJ. I want to be able to go wherever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want to. I really want a lot of things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, blogging really does help me sort out my thoughts. Thank you, Gmail blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165996784458770663-2282766080859726305?l=igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/feeds/2282766080859726305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165996784458770663&amp;postID=2282766080859726305' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2282766080859726305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165996784458770663/posts/default/2282766080859726305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://igotdistracted-samantha.blogspot.com/2008/05/bad-things.html' title='Bad Things?'/><author><name>Samantha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993166845074699669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_OsLzgCqtbSs/SDcGHedzX9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kOl_xqAZOU0/S220/vegas+018.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
