<?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-6101136863013605127</id><updated>2011-04-22T14:00:41.188+09:30</updated><title type='text'>meaningless ramblings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-8629792296836148216</id><published>2008-04-25T02:47:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-25T03:09:59.808+09:30</updated><title type='text'>It's been ages.</title><content type='html'>Life as i know it has been completely turned upside down. It's finally starting to become as normal as it used to be........ SLOWLY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems that bad things just keep happening in my life at the moment, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; finally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;beginning&lt;/span&gt; to realise there is light at the end of this tunnel (though it seems to be a long fucking tunnel)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; up late home alone while the boy is out working his ass off (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ahhh&lt;/span&gt; but what a cute one it is!) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so he's not exactly working right now, he just called to tell me he has finished for the night, so i talked him into getting a taxi home instead of having to sit around the city until 7am when the first train leaves. But of course being a guy he's apparently starving to death so is stopping by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Maccas&lt;/span&gt;, calling to ask if i needed anything from there. Who NEEDS things from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;maccas&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, people WANT to eat that crap but do they really NEED it? Ugh of course i said no, nothing worse then chowing down on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;McGrease&lt;/span&gt; burger sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost a cousin to suicide in November last year. The first real death i have ever had to deal with. Tuesday i went to his grave for the first time ever. I realise now after being there that i was in complete denial about his death. So it seems like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; having a delayed reaction. only now that i have been to the grave site and seen his headstone with his photo on it (photos on headstones really seem to creep me out for some reason &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;) anyway, only now that i have been there does it all seem so fucking final and real to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suicide is a pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;untalked&lt;/span&gt; about thing, when people ask how my cousin died and i say he killed himself, most people are shocked and either scurry away faster then their legs can carry them, or clam up completely and don't know what to say. It shits me to tears that people see it as such a taboo subject. I think it's about fucking time that this world sat up and opened their eyes to the reality of this world. instead of sweeping things under a rug and pretending life is all fucking sunshine and flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Aunty&lt;/span&gt; (my cousins mother) that suicide is a selfish thing. I'm glad they didn't say that in front of me because i would have hit the fucking roof. unless someone has been so completely depressed themselves they will never realise that people who attempt suicide, or succeed in suicide are not fucking selfish at all. When you are so low down that death feels like the only option, you are SICK. Depression is a sickness for crying out loud. as i was saying, when you are so low that you feel like you can't bear to take another breath. you are not thinking of anything or anyone else. you don't think of the impact your death will have on friends and family, all you can concentrate on is the complete and utter anguish and agony you are feeling. So suicide is not a selfish thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*hops off soap box*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, told you things have been falling apart for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently been to the doctor for a pregnancy test, which came back inconclusive, which my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Dr&lt;/span&gt; tells me means i probably was pregnant (3 days after the test i had the period from hell, 9 weeks late.) which my doctor thinks may have been a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;misscarriage&lt;/span&gt;. i had another blood test but naughty me, i haven't been back to get the results yet. With all the shit going on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not sure that i could really deal with whatever the test says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy and i have had a few ups and downs, seems like with all the stress happening at the moment we were just baiting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; into arguments. The worst argument was when he was working away interstate last weekend and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;asshat&lt;/span&gt; hung up the phone on me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not usually one to cry, but i was sobbing after he hung up the phone. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; so he called me back a few minutes later and we sorted shit out) But i very nearly ended the entire relationship with him that night. What's the point in staying together if all we do is argue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt; night we finally had the time to sit down and work through our issues. and now that the communication lines are opened things have so far been 100% better. I realise now after i almost kicked him out that that would have been a bad idea. i truly love him. I have thought i was in love in past relationships, but now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; with The Boy, i know i never really have loved anyone the way i love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; rambled a lot of shit here so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; gonna sign off and go read my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Cleo&lt;/span&gt; mag before The Boy gets home and tells me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; reading rubbish &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-8629792296836148216?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/8629792296836148216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=8629792296836148216&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/8629792296836148216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/8629792296836148216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-been-ages.html' title='It&apos;s been ages.'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-2363316016877125255</id><published>2008-03-22T18:24:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-03-22T18:41:39.319+10:30</updated><title type='text'>casino, dickhead drivers, and shopping</title><content type='html'>The boy had his first weekend night off in AGES. We were going to just stay at home and spend some time together watching movies and playing monopoly. But friends of ours called up and asked if we wanted to go to the casino with them at midnight when it opened. I have never actually stepped foot into the casino, and we had some extra money left this week so The boy decided it would be fun for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 26 this year and never once stepped foot into the casino. sad really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. I honestly don't find gambling all that interesting, my opinion is that chances of winning are fairly slim, i might as well chuck my money in the bin. but i figured i would go along, it gets me out of the house and could be fun. and i really wanted to see the inside of the casino. (by the way half of it was closed off anyway so it wasn't all that great)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the casino and looked around, watched people playing black jack, The boy was slugged 9 bucks for a small glass of JD and coke, which i tasted and either my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;taste buds&lt;/span&gt; are fucked up or there was something not right with the drink. it tasted disgusting, and i usually like JD. anyway, spent a couple of hours at the casino, at about 2am we were ready to leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all starving by this time and drove to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;maccas&lt;/span&gt;. acted like a bunch of teenagers in there (sad when the boy is 30 and the rest of us are aged between 25-26)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;driving home on the main road, we're all sitting in the car talking and laughing and just pretty much enjoying the company and the time spent together when the driver looks in the mirror and crouches down a little in his seat screaming like a girl ( as scary as this was i find it hilarious now) My friend (his wife) and i were yelling at him trying to ask him what the fuck was wrong when The boy turns around in his seat and his face went white.......seconds later two cars which were drag racing are right behind us, one overtook us on the left REALLY close doing about 150, the second car  came up on our right (totally illegal for starters) but there was no road there so the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;fucktard&lt;/span&gt; pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;much&lt;/span&gt; pushed us over into the lane of the other car. thank god the driver crouched down and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; decide to start swerving to avoid either car or i probably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; be here to type this up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ended up losing control and drove into a ditch., car was fine no one was hurt but it was fucking scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got home at about 4am, woke up at 11 to go shopping as we really needed food in this house. basically all we had in the cupboards was flour and sugar, and a shit load of coke in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to the shopping centre and it was REALLY crowded. the shops are only going to be shut for two fucking days, but people were buying stuff like the world was about to end.  people standing in the middle of aisles, people getting in other peoples way, pushing, swearing etc etc. i usually am a pretty calm shopper but after standing behind some stupid bitch lady blocking the middle of the aisle while she was talking on her phone and talking to her friend, and having people backed up behind us so we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; turn around, and after me repeatedly saying excuse me, i said loudly for fuck sake lady move, and shoved her trolley out my way, got a dirty look from her and a round of applause from everyone standing behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i have decided i am never fucking shopping the day before public holidays again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-2363316016877125255?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/2363316016877125255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=2363316016877125255&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/2363316016877125255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/2363316016877125255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/03/casino-dickhead-drivers-and-shopping.html' title='casino, dickhead drivers, and shopping'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-3317337461543336475</id><published>2008-03-16T23:20:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-03-16T23:36:19.277+10:30</updated><title type='text'>feeling rather blah</title><content type='html'>Watching centre stage on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;, the acting is fucking terrible how this movie became so big is beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy is at work again, so i went out for dinner with my mum and step dad. was pretty good, although i wish The Boy was there. barely seen him in over a week because of work, and when he is home, he's asleep getting ready for the next shift. God i hate night shift with a passion. anyway, the food was good, the conversation......&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;meh&lt;/span&gt; typical nagging mother style &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. but it was good to catch up with them it's been  a little while since i really spent any more then 10 minutes with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately i have been having some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bizarre&lt;/span&gt; dreams, mostly about me either being pregnant, or having a new born baby. though the freakiest was last night. My cousin killed himself in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;November&lt;/span&gt;. we were extremely close growing up but from about the age of 18 we barely saw &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; due to our lives going in completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;seperate&lt;/span&gt; directions. anyway, last night i had a dream and he was in it. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;apologised&lt;/span&gt; for us barely being in contact before he died, and told me that no matter what i was still his favourite cousin (same age &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;grew&lt;/span&gt; up practically living in each other pockets) and that he was sorry for causing me so much heartache over his death, that he was happy and he loved me. then proceeded to tell me i would have a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i woke up feeling completely at peace about his death, knowing that he felt it was the only option for him and feeling like he was finally happy with himself and his surroundings. i still miss him like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; totally confused, was it a dream? Or was it him really coming to me through my dream? and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wtf&lt;/span&gt; is up with the whole "you will have   a boy" thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think maybe it is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;subconscious&lt;/span&gt; playing a joke on me because of the whole late period thing, but at the same time i want to think its true because at least now i know he is at peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The part that is freaking me out the most though, is that i tend to have a lot of my dreams come true, Don't get me wrong i don't think i am psychic or whatever, although i think i believe in that stuff, it's just a bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;strange that things i dream &lt;/span&gt; about come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have so much house work to do, and i have no motivation what so ever to do it. i started to rearrange my entire house, got halfway through it and gave up, so our matress is on the loungeroom floor, half our bedroom suite is in the hallway, clothes are strewn from one end of the house to the other. (i decided to move our bedroom into the front room)  and there is paper work all over the table and on the floor too. Why is it that i get a burst of energy, get halfway though something, take a break and never want to finish it? maybe i should learn not to stop halfway though, that way it will all be done, and i wont feel like a lazy cow sitting in a mess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-3317337461543336475?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/3317337461543336475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=3317337461543336475&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/3317337461543336475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/3317337461543336475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/03/feeling-rather-blah.html' title='feeling rather blah'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-7244725707409015758</id><published>2008-03-14T19:00:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-03-14T19:07:20.025+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Isn't summer supposed to be over?</title><content type='html'>fucking 43 degrees outside under my patio today, I love summer but come on this is fucking crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy has been working extra hours this week, which means come thursday i have extra spending money. Although i barely see him as it is so with the extra hours he has been working it makes me wonder if the money is worth the time apart. Oh well, only a couple more months and he will be moved to armed guarding (ack! the boy with a gun is a fucking scary thought) and will be working only days, instead of only nights. Can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been so sick lately, if i am not sleepimg i am complaining i am tired. Every waking minute i am feeling like i am going to vomit everywhere, my stupid period is a week and a half late, now i am NEVER  late. I h ave taken two pregnancy tests, and both were negative, so what the fuck is going on with my body?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been too hot to really do anything interesting, and even if it wasn't i'm too sick to bother going out. The boy dragged me to the shops yesterday and bought me the simpsons game for the playstation. (i barely play the damn playstation, so i think this is him trying to get me more involved in things he loves) and i must say, this game is addictive, and pissing me off all at the same time. stupid bart and lisa simpson lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;going to be fucking hot again tomorrow, though i might drag my fat ass down to the beach (woohoo a bus, a train and a tram god i need to get my license)  and go for a run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-7244725707409015758?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/7244725707409015758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=7244725707409015758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/7244725707409015758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/7244725707409015758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/03/isnt-summer-supposed-to-be-over.html' title='Isn&apos;t summer supposed to be over?'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-3558880754822886808</id><published>2008-03-08T17:41:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2008-03-08T17:46:21.253+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Things about me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Things about me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; I am the moodiest person i know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; I hate mornings. more so then most "normal" people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; I hate the word normal. who the fuck determines what&lt;br /&gt;is normal anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; I am an avid reader. if the book is interesting, i will read it&lt;br /&gt;all in one sitting, stopping only to pee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.&lt;/strong&gt; I always steal those little alcohol swabs from hospitals.&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea why i do it but whenever i am in a hospital i&lt;br /&gt;just have to take a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.&lt;/strong&gt; I don't believe in love at first sight, i believe it is always only lust at first sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.&lt;/strong&gt; I am afraid of the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.&lt;/strong&gt; I have a fear of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;looking&lt;/span&gt; out of windows at night time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.&lt;/strong&gt; I hate being home alone all night. which happens a lot with my boyfriends work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.&lt;/strong&gt; I know my boyfriend better then i know myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11.&lt;/strong&gt; I suffer with post traumatic stress disorder. i try not to let it run my life, yet it still does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12.&lt;/strong&gt; I am scared of calling people on the phone that i don't know (how the hell did i last 3 years as a receptionist??!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13&lt;/strong&gt;. I was the one who set all the mice in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; biology free because i thought it was cruel to keep them caged up and study them. I let my cousin take the blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14.&lt;/strong&gt; I had never suffered the grief of losing someone close to me until November last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15.&lt;/strong&gt; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;went&lt;/span&gt; o my first funeral last year and hope to never attend one again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16.&lt;/strong&gt; I have a fear of dead things. be that fish, animal or human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17.&lt;/strong&gt; I have a fear of my boyfriend cheating on me, although i believe he wont i have been hurt in the past so i am over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;protective&lt;/span&gt; when it comes to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18.&lt;/strong&gt; I have a deep set hatred for my body, yet am not motivated enough to do anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19.&lt;/strong&gt; Gyms freak me out, i believe if i stepped foot in one i would be like an elephant walking into a room full of gorgeous skinny people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20.&lt;/strong&gt; I am an expert when it comes to cooking, but usually only cook quick easy things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;21.&lt;/strong&gt; I was in a relationship with a girl for 3 years. we lived together. i still believe if i was to see her to this day i would beg her to take me back. although i love my boy to bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22.&lt;/strong&gt; I fear i am infertile, yet have no real reason why i should think i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23.&lt;/strong&gt; All i want in this world is to be a mother, a wife and to look after my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;24.&lt;/strong&gt; I love to people watch. i love to sit in the middle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Rundle&lt;/span&gt; Mall in the city and watch people, i like to make up stories about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25.&lt;/strong&gt; I am extremely loud! i like to be the centre of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;26.&lt;/strong&gt; My favourite colour is Pink. it's almost an obsession&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27.&lt;/strong&gt; I cry at anything, including &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;maccas&lt;/span&gt; commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;28.&lt;/strong&gt; I can not drink a cup of tea made by any one else. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;No one&lt;/span&gt; else makes it exactly how i like it. except for my cousin Jen. she makes it perfectly, and is the only person i will allow to make me tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;29.&lt;/strong&gt; I hate hot coffee, yet love iced coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30.&lt;/strong&gt; As a teenager, i hated carrots so much that i pretended i was allergic to them so i wouldn't have to eat them if i was at someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Else's&lt;/span&gt; house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;31.&lt;/strong&gt; I suffer from a slight case of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt;. i have to do everything in 4's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;32.&lt;/strong&gt; I HATE odd numbers. my boy thinks it is hilarious to put the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt; volume up to an odd number then pin me down so i can't make it even. it pisses me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;33.&lt;/strong&gt; I have never had an orgasm. I fake it all the time, my boyfriend didn't believe me when i told him in the middle of an argument. i continue to fake it because i don't want to hurt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;34.&lt;/strong&gt; I only like granny smith apples, i hate any other type&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;35.&lt;/strong&gt; When eating something like a sandwich or a biscuit etc, i eat it evenly into a square shape, nibbling it as i go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;36.&lt;/strong&gt; I have run out of things to say at the moment but due to my crazy fear/hatred of Odd numbers i couldn't end this on one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-3558880754822886808?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/3558880754822886808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=3558880754822886808&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/3558880754822886808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/3558880754822886808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/03/things-about-me.html' title='Things about me.'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-5563986538881538702</id><published>2008-02-29T16:57:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-29T17:05:30.311+10:30</updated><title type='text'>i'm home</title><content type='html'>but i wish i wasn't! i love sydney. one night there was just not enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flight in was uneventful, i've been to sydney quite a few times now and NEVER got lost........got the train into central station from the airport.......and i get fucking lost! and the place iw as staying at is right next to the station, but inside that place is like a fucking maze (granted every other time i've been through central i have been with friends) this time i was alone, i ended up asking a hottie in a business suit for directions to get the hell out of there lol, and he walked me all the way to my hostel. who said people in sydney are rude? lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;backpackers hostels......only fucking accom i could get due to the massive number of people staying in sydney for mardi gras. i always thought of these places as sleezy cockroach infestations. but the central YHA is actually really fairly nice, and the people you meet there are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went to the event i went to, and came back exhausted with sore feet from new heels, but while sitting in the dining room having a coffee got talked into going to a pub  at the casino by a group of english and american tourists. had an AMAZING night, although had no sleep at all.  danced the night away. stumbled into hungry jacks on george street at about 4am then sat around until 9 where we headed off for breakfast and was escorted to the airport by two very goodloking canadians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flights were delayed and cancelled due to storms, thankg od mine was only delayed for an hour, because everywhere for accom was booked out, i would have had to have crashed in the room of one of the sexy english people (not that i would have minded but im sure the boy would have lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flight home was full of turbulance, i swear we were going to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got home to find the boy waiting for me with huge smiles. and although i was exhaused (2 hours sleep in 48 hours, still probably drunk and with blisters the size of golf balls on my feet) we went out for dinner and i fell asleep at about 9pm, slept right through until 4pm today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so theres a short update on my sydney trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i so wish i were back there :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-5563986538881538702?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/5563986538881538702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=5563986538881538702&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/5563986538881538702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/5563986538881538702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-home.html' title='i&apos;m home'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-8793978741835478811</id><published>2008-02-25T16:08:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-25T16:13:27.743+10:30</updated><title type='text'>ack</title><content type='html'>i can assure you there will be a shit load of blogger fodder for me shortly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my evil friendand her wanker asshole moody prick of a husband and  HER 5 year old (i say hers because he shits me to tears with the way he acts like the kid is his when it fucking isnt ) are moving in with The boy and i for 3 weeks.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i HATE HATE HATE her husband, hes a cranky, moody fucktard who i just want to kick in the balls so hard he wont EVER reproduce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, im a sucker who said they could move in here because i didnt want to see their kid without a home.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-8793978741835478811?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/8793978741835478811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=8793978741835478811&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/8793978741835478811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/8793978741835478811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/ack.html' title='ack'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-6428548832173959620</id><published>2008-02-20T20:17:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-20T20:19:25.095+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Sydney here i come!</title><content type='html'>Just finalised my flight bookings! can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pitty it's only an over night trip though :( but at least i get to attend a cocktail dinner and get all frocked up! leaving the boy at home though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i absolutely love sydney, only been twice, but when i am there i feel like i belong. gorgeous city. if only i could live there&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-6428548832173959620?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/6428548832173959620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=6428548832173959620&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/6428548832173959620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/6428548832173959620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/sydney-here-i-come.html' title='Sydney here i come!'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-9150744553916167169</id><published>2008-02-19T18:02:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-19T18:10:36.039+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Marriage, Kids, etc etc</title><content type='html'>What the hell is it with people? The boy and i have "officially" been together 12 months (living together and sleeping together for 17 lol) it took me almost 10 months to meet his parents (scary! but they are truly wonderful people)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, the amount of our friends/family who keep asking us when we are getting engaged, when are we having kids etc etc. it's driving me nuts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the worst culprits are his best friend and my best friend....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy and i met through our best friends who hooked up (and are now married but we didnt go to their wedding LONG story) Anyway, these friends of ours got engaged after only knowing eachother and being together for 3 months. they got married after being together for 13 months.  All they do is fight. theyre actually not the greatest friends to have, very toxic and complete shit stirrers, but thats a whole other story in itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so of course now they seem to think because they are married we should be too. The boy and i have already talked about this and will most likely getmarried at the end of 2009/start of 2010. and engaged sometime this year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it makes me so mad when people think they have the right to tell us how to run our relationship, when we should get engaged, when we should get married. people really suck sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now......HIS mother asks him every time they talk when he's going to give her grandkids, and my mother has been hinting on it. i have cousins i am close to who keep willing me to get pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just bitching because i really fucking hate people today&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-9150744553916167169?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/9150744553916167169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=9150744553916167169&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/9150744553916167169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/9150744553916167169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/marriage-kids-etc-etc.html' title='Marriage, Kids, etc etc'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-7026503704731001849</id><published>2008-02-18T14:49:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-18T15:02:30.728+10:30</updated><title type='text'>It's so hot today! 41 in the shade, pour me some lemonaide....</title><content type='html'>Shoot me now, i'm channeling Peter Combe songs!  (speaking of Peter Combe, did you know he now performs at night clubs in Adelaide for people who grew up with his music.......sad really lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;temp today, 39 c, temp outside my back door.......43c. FUCK.  I love the heat, but when im home doing nothing i find it ridiculous. i hate it with a passion, yet if i was at the beach right now i'd be loving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy got home from work at 7an, now i can't sleep when noone else is in the house at night time, so i was exhausted when he got home, i opened the door, and jumped into bed where i quickly started to drift off into lala land. he comes to bed just as my eyes were closing and my brain was turning off and starts to rub up against me. seems like the boy wasn't as tired as he claimed to be! I tried to ignore his advances at first, but gave in. so an hour later, he was fast asleep and there i was laying there fuckign wide awake! don't get me wrong the sex was great, but fuck i was mad that i was now wide awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy wants subway for dinner, as much as i don't want to cook i'm feeling like a tight ass today and don't want to spend money on something knowing i can make it just as similar for a third of the price, so i'm sitting here watching Judge Judy (see, told you i'm a sad case) waiting for him to wake up so we can go to coles and get the ingredients. my "subway" is  far more filling, and tastes so much fresher when i make it. Will post a pic later when it's done lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realised, it's a really hot day today, and what am i wearing? Jeans and a Black hoodie,..........smart move  Leah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-7026503704731001849?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/7026503704731001849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=7026503704731001849&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/7026503704731001849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/7026503704731001849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-so-hot-today-41-in-shade-pour-me.html' title='It&apos;s so hot today! 41 in the shade, pour me some lemonaide....'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-5162390065507194515</id><published>2008-02-17T01:08:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-17T01:51:38.814+10:30</updated><title type='text'>just after 1am</title><content type='html'>and i am just getting home, nope, didn't hit the town with friends (oh how i wish) so what was i doing you may ask? well, at 8pm i get a frantic call from my mother........conversation went as follows..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mum:&lt;/strong&gt; Leah!!!!! help!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(a little worried)&lt;/em&gt; What?? what's happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mum:&lt;/strong&gt; i really need your help!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(getting more worried) &lt;/em&gt;why?? what's going on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mum:&lt;/strong&gt; i can't get past this fucking level on spyro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(cue silence)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; errrr and you're calling me all frantic for this reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mum:&lt;/strong&gt; yes, now Paul &lt;em&gt;(step dad)&lt;/em&gt; is on his way over to pick you up i need you to help me! &lt;em&gt;(click end of convo)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now my mother always hangs up without saying goodbye, shits me to tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i get there just after 8:30 and have now only just walked in the door after sitting there for hours playing fucking spyo on the playstation. fuuuuuuck i hate that game, but the more levels i passed, the harder it got for her to do which of course meant i did them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and i also got there took over food and cooked the biatch dinner. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there you go, 25 years old and do i spend my saturday night out getting pissed with friends? nope, i spend it playing fucking spyro with my mother....... kill me now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-5162390065507194515?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/5162390065507194515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=5162390065507194515&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/5162390065507194515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/5162390065507194515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/just-after-1am.html' title='just after 1am'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6101136863013605127.post-3422174882155414677</id><published>2008-02-16T18:24:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2008-02-16T18:37:57.586+10:30</updated><title type='text'>here i is!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, i've recently found myself home alone a hell of a lot due to the boy working night shifts. i'm not one who likes to sleep in a house with noone else but myself for company, therefore i've decided instead of spending my nights watching crappy infomercials, or even worse, The Mint, that i may as well blog! otherwise i would be driving myself insane (even more insane??) listening out for creepy sounds and trying to stop myself from getting sucked into buying the latest fat blaster, face cream or super sweeper that claims to pick up a table and two bowling balls when in reality it probably wouldn't do anything other then spit dust particles around my house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So who am i? ? god, i don't think even i can answer that question!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;My name is Leah, i'm 25 living in adelaide with my wonderful boyfriend who usually treats me like a princess (when he's actually home that is) i'm currently studying bar and gaming. in hopes to gain employment as a bar bitch! lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;i may be young but to be honest, i feel like i have lived 1000 lives in my short lifetime. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;i have a severe shoe, hat and bag fetish, is there a 12 step program for such a disease?? because i sure as hell need one! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;ohhhhh side tracked! Finding nemo is on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I have a weakness for vodka and baileys (not mixed of course......but come to think of it i wonder how that will taste!) and anything pepermint flavoured. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I am a self confessed shopaholic, who can never pass up a great bargain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;i have lived in Adelaide my whole life, but ventured overseas once, and interstate a few times (in fact i am off to Sydney in just under two weeks!) Sydney is one of my favourite places in the world, if it wasn't so damn expensive to rent/buy a house or apartment there i'd move in a heart beat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;i am obsessed with the colour pink. a huge fan of the singer pink, in fact, i bet if pink is incorperated in anything i will fall in love with it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;i am quite the girly girl, but a clutsy tomboy at times. i can be painting my nails one minute and then climbing all over the back of a truck the next. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;so needless to say i'm a fairly typical Aussie Girl. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;i've most likely bored you all to death by now (all 1-2 of you who will ever probably read this lol) so it's time for me to go wake the boy so he can get ready and head out to work  to make more money for me to spend! (GOD don't i sound like a spoilt little princess???)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6101136863013605127-3422174882155414677?l=disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/feeds/3422174882155414677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6101136863013605127&amp;postID=3422174882155414677&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/3422174882155414677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6101136863013605127/posts/default/3422174882155414677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://disenchantedprincessleah.blogspot.com/2008/02/here-i-is.html' title='here i is!'/><author><name>Leah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05987344110415127846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_2sn0y20_yJA/R7ab-gERc2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/so9zESaso1o/S220/2901328553.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
