<?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-3670660118704534800</id><updated>2012-02-17T05:15:06.218+10:00</updated><category term='story'/><category term='weather'/><category term='friday night'/><category term='me'/><category term='uni'/><category term='movies'/><category term='internet'/><category term='boys'/><category term='music'/><category term='Taylor Swift'/><category term='tv'/><category term='Rant'/><category term='love'/><category term='quiz'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='Miley Cyrus'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Just Em.</title><subtitle type='html'>nothing inspiring. it's a load of rubbish really, but if you like it - i like you.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3211644625611047539</id><published>2010-05-04T19:37:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T21:00:39.450+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Em is Just Happy.</title><content type='html'>Yes, the rumours are true. In my chaotic and sometimes stressful world, I've found a balance. An emotional balance. I'm really truly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reflect on the past 18 months or so in absolute wonderment, to be honest. I think I'm finally starting to become the person I've always envisaged myself being. Working, studying, having an acceptable amount of social time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I'm still stressy now and then - I seem to always have tension build up in my back and neck (!), in my mind I am stable - zen - almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All it took was a little bit of believin'   ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and LOVE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3211644625611047539?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3211644625611047539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/just-em-is-just-happy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3211644625611047539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3211644625611047539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/just-em-is-just-happy.html' title='Just Em is Just Happy.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-8811726502962969503</id><published>2010-04-19T12:44:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T13:22:20.792+10:00</updated><title type='text'>An open diary</title><content type='html'>I have to admit - I've never really ever been the best at blogging. I'm not really that complex - I try to be as open and honest as possible, all the time. I don't intentionally keep secrets, and I don't blog under an alias for fear of my deepest darkest secrets being released to the world - and frankly, I don't really have any secrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So really, I'm an open diary. Not a flashing billboard or picture of narcissism, I hope - but if you want to take the time and have the paitence to read me, you can, if you like. I'm comfortable with genuinity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a friend of mine over the weekend who is hopelessly in love with a girl who won't give him an inch of her mind. They date, but thier conversation apparently involves a vague exchange of sarcasm and stories about other people. They don't talk about themselves. They don't talk about each other. He says he's in love with her - that her mystery is driving him insane, he's crazy for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think honesty was a bit of a negative attribute of mine, to be honest. I used to think that guys loved the mysterious girl -the one that's hard to read - whimsical and vague with her words. Which, we see is the case with my friend. Is she leaving things to the imagination, or is she just boring with nothing better to do than comminicate with vague banter or phsyicality? What I've found with my maturity and a bit of observation of those around me is that mystery doesn't allow for attraction, or even - love - at all - it allows for distrust, complexity, confusion, and misread intent. Yucky, dirty, messy situations are bred out of mystery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I think that being a bit of an open book has worked for me. I'm a happy girl. I'm comfortable with being open and genuine with my loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For as much as movies and fiction has pressed to us that mystery is the most lady-like quality - I believe it is possible to fall in love with someone just by reading their diary, and by that I mean, by opening yourself up - being honest, caring and genuine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps mystery allows my friend to paint the picture of his dreamgirl over the top of the one he's dating. Perhaps he's comfortable, for the while, creating an image of a seemingly great person and a good relationship. I can't imagine that there is any long-term comfort in mystery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the topic of blogging - I can't imagine that blogging is even a healthy outlet for those who aren't genuine with their real-life loved ones. The internet world confuses my thoroughly. My friend's blind infatuation with this girl, also confuses me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rave over - Peace and love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-8811726502962969503?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8811726502962969503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/open-diary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/8811726502962969503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/8811726502962969503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/open-diary.html' title='An open diary'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3955642765172867805</id><published>2010-03-30T16:17:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T16:29:06.031+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>Out-of-body Experience</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, when I look at photos of myself and remember what I was thinking or looking at, at the time - it feels like a complete and utter out of body experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm crazy, I swear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3955642765172867805?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3955642765172867805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/out-of-body-experience.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3955642765172867805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3955642765172867805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/out-of-body-experience.html' title='Out-of-body Experience'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3796096666498364064</id><published>2010-03-29T21:19:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T21:35:08.946+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Last weekend.</title><content type='html'>Was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3796096666498364064?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3796096666498364064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/last-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3796096666498364064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3796096666498364064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/last-weekend.html' title='Last weekend.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-1978834696921835548</id><published>2010-03-25T10:12:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T10:25:23.345+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Truly, Madly.</title><content type='html'>How am I so lucky that I get to spend my time with a person who makes me feel so excited, nervous, adored, valued, cherished and happy - all at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still get that flutter in the bottom of my stomach every time I touch him in the slightest way, right in that place where your hips and your hopes meet up, mingling with the butterflies in your gut. It's not anticipation, it's not a 'spark', per say - it's nothing more than pure and honest bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I could have even tried to imagine how it would feel to be with a person so wonderful. I'm counting my blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-1978834696921835548?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1978834696921835548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/truly-madly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1978834696921835548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1978834696921835548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/truly-madly.html' title='Truly, Madly.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3607278319828173186</id><published>2010-03-23T15:37:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T15:39:49.971+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Hiatus, over.</title><content type='html'>I’m glad I ended that last blog on a hopeful note. Maybe it gave me a bit of luck, because the past few months have been amazing. I’m going to keep it fairly vague for blog tracking and stalker issues, but let’s just say that I’m in a really good place right now. And honestly, I think even the history of these blogs show that I waited long enough. I attribute it all to Karma Credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the process that I stopped blogging here though, everything became a lot more uncomplicated, and complicated, all at once. The topic of my last blog blew over quite quickly, thankfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in the process of my hiatus, I’ve been to Canada and America – seen the Golden Gate Bridge and the Hollywood sign, the beaches at La Jolla on the Mexican border and skiid the Olympic tracks in Whistler. I thought I was lucky before – nothing could have prepared me for that trip. It was one of the most amazing experiences I’ll have in my lifetime, I’m certain of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think a lot about my general attitude towards life has been altered a little over the last few months. Don’t get me wrong – I’m just as whimsical, just as much a dreamer. But I think I’ve got a bit of the rose-coloured-glasses action going on. I’m not complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just going to throw it out there – the greatest people to be around make everything feel simple. They make you feel like you’re perfect to them. Like there is no possible way you could be any better than you already are. I never ever thought I could feel like I was perfect, in anyone’s eyes. But I’m starting to realise that maybe, I could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3607278319828173186?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3607278319828173186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/hiatus-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3607278319828173186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3607278319828173186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/hiatus-over.html' title='Hiatus, over.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-7964416670716385691</id><published>2009-10-12T16:27:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T11:20:02.828+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since I've posted - and a heap of things have happened to me. I can't possibly go through all of them for whoever reads this, because the whole situation is, for lack of a better word, complex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So August, right? To make a long story short, I got way too caught up in the moment. I was in love with the idea of someone, mysterious and attractive, falling in love with me. I was in love with the idea of them being my own. But I failed to see everything that was wrong with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, when I was taken out of said situation, as abruptly as it may have happened, I found myself falling into the same pattern. Feeling exactly the same as I did 2 months prior. He's so gorgeous, I really hope he knows it. To be honest, I don't think I have a chance. But its not going to stop me from contemplating the possibility....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm in a bit of a weird transition-type mode at the moment, I don't really know what to make of it all. But I'm hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-7964416670716385691?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7964416670716385691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/10/tired.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7964416670716385691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7964416670716385691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/10/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-1847995336506419934</id><published>2009-08-05T20:48:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T21:37:51.192+10:00</updated><title type='text'>I needed a break.</title><content type='html'>I needed a break from being so emotional. I needed to dwell on my feelings for a while. Thus, the lack of posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, I've been using twitter as a constant outlet source - which explains the fluctuating level of followers. I have discovered that when you post an emotional, thoughtful tweet - people often lose interest and un-follow you. Do the opposite - take for example - "Thinking about what it would be like to watch a Jonas Brothers concert from behind and just take in the view", and I acquire about 30 followers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self: if you want anyone to care, don't post to twitter. If you like it that nobody cares, keep posting to twitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still love twitter, don't get me wrong. I think it is excellent. But sometimes, you want people to care in a little more than 140 characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just haven't had all that much to say really, in terms of expressing my feelings lately. I think it's because I haven't figured it all out for myself yet, in my head. Once I know how I feel, then I'll shout it to the world. Or at least - I'll murmer it on some electronic outlet that has the probability of being viewed that is the same as the probability that Ill have a boyfriend by the end of the week. VERY UNLIKELY. Oh, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to completely change my track now - and talk about something that happened to me over the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got hit on by a 15 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm being completely serious. And you know what? I was FLIRTING BACK. I know - I'm terrrrrible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay confession time over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've really got nothing to rant about - so - bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and love xox&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-1847995336506419934?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1847995336506419934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-needed-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1847995336506419934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1847995336506419934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-needed-break.html' title='I needed a break.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-7666954031955517173</id><published>2009-07-16T14:16:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T14:53:13.957+10:00</updated><title type='text'>I read this somewhere today. It stuck in my mind.</title><content type='html'>If you want your negativity about someone to be heeded, be positive about them as often as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise you’re crying wolf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-7666954031955517173?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7666954031955517173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-read-this-somewhere-today-it-stuck-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7666954031955517173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7666954031955517173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-read-this-somewhere-today-it-stuck-in.html' title='I read this somewhere today. It stuck in my mind.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-6160019142442510284</id><published>2009-06-27T12:56:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T15:00:59.096+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><title type='text'>dot, dot, dot.</title><content type='html'>I hate that you can't see that she doesn't even give a shit about you. I don't know what you see in her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She brings out the worst in you, and you're becoming a terrible person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-6160019142442510284?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6160019142442510284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/dot-dot-dot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6160019142442510284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6160019142442510284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/dot-dot-dot.html' title='dot, dot, dot.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-1620567742632828959</id><published>2009-06-21T15:47:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T15:52:25.285+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>Whinge Fest.</title><content type='html'>I'm so so so gutless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have ONE chance. ONE. To make a good, lasting impression and keep them interested. I get nervous, chicken out and don't even take the chance up. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice, somewhat modest boys obviously intimidate me. I have issues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-1620567742632828959?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1620567742632828959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/whinge-fest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1620567742632828959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1620567742632828959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/whinge-fest.html' title='Whinge Fest.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-623508865293782991</id><published>2009-06-18T14:31:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T17:02:44.848+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>I'm so in love.</title><content type='html'>Dear Luke Pritchard (yes you, Luke Pritchard, lead singer of The Kooks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey. I adore you. Marry me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-623508865293782991?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/623508865293782991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-so-in-love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/623508865293782991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/623508865293782991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-so-in-love.html' title='I&apos;m so in love.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-5562168497212755830</id><published>2009-06-06T14:07:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T19:06:46.920+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Best Friends.</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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&lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Cambria Math"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:1; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-format:other; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face 	{font-family:Calibri; 	panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-unhide:no; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	line-height:150%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; 	mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; 	mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoPapDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	line-height:150%;} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	line-height:150%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wrote a little rhyme in 5 minutes about my bestie, because we're cool and digg weird stuff like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Friday nights, Tuesday afternoons&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You listen to me, while I listen to you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just talking&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And it’s always easy, being me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because you see what the others don’t see&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I can’t explain what you mean to me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because you’re always more of a man than you need to be&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A best friend, a brother&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;That’s how well we know each other&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your humour’s lame and your jeans are frayed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You’ve got a kick in your hair that won’t go away&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But you make me laugh, and you always care&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can call you for anything and you’ll beg me to share&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And although no one gets it,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I couldn’t live without it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Late night chats, midday secrets&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;There’s no holding back and no regrets&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Between us&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You keep your promises, I keep mine&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because of all that, we’re doing just fine&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I can’t begin to tell you, how it comforts me to know&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;That I have a friend like you to show&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;My sister, my mother&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m really glad we know each other&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your humour’s lame and your jeans are frayed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You’ve got a kick in your hair that won’t go away&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But you make me laugh, and you always care&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can call you for anything and you’ll beg me to share&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And although no one gets it,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I couldn’t live without it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We made a silly pact that one day we’ll get married&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;In case we get old, wrinkly, and begin to be worried&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;That our lovers go astray, or our hair’s going grey&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We always know who’ll be there waiting&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;At the end of the day&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Most people tell me its too good to be true&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;That they don’t know friends like me and you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And although no one gets it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We can’t live without it&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Peace and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-5562168497212755830?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5562168497212755830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/best-friends.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5562168497212755830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5562168497212755830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/best-friends.html' title='Best Friends.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-9127391754666803168</id><published>2009-06-04T16:08:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T15:02:09.059+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><title type='text'>A little story.</title><content type='html'>This is a semi-rant - inspired by reality and music and books and a movie I just saw. I'd say maybe 60% of this is true - the rest is inspiration, and exaggeration. So don't go being - OMG EMILY WHO IS IT? Because I'm not going to rat out a friend - my poetic liscence is at use here, I'm feeling inspired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t need to try to understand how you work. You were transparent and unguarded and it suited me just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t need to be warned by both my friends, and yours. You don’t have a good track record with any of them, love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t need you to be so lovely, that night we first met. You made me feel warm, and wanted, and comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t need you to tell me all of the things you knew I wanted to hear. You were genuine; at least, it seemed so. That was enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t need you to call me that time we talked for hours. Or dance with me at the place with the name neither of us can remember. Or send that one text message I’ve still got saved in my inbox. Or hold me so tight that night no one will quickly forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And - I didn’t need you to tell me that you’d started something else, with someone else. Or that it had been coming for a while. I didn’t need it all to seem like one big ol’ cliché.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, I didn’t need it to feel okay. I hate that it feels okay. Because I knew it was coming, I just didn’t want to fight it. Because I knew I wasn't enough, and I wasn't prepared to be enough. But - that's really actually okay with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t need you to come back to me and make me do it all again. But I know you will. And you know what? That too, will be okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-9127391754666803168?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9127391754666803168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/9127391754666803168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/9127391754666803168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-story.html' title='A little story.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-2695267072631562510</id><published>2009-05-27T19:20:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T19:26:08.435+10:00</updated><title type='text'>I know all your favourite songs.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so someone said the sweetest thing to me today. I don't really remember the exact words, but it went something like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes, I wish you would pay more attention to my favourite songs, because the lyrics they sing are all of the words I wish I could find to tell you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so thinking over it, it kind of sounds like something that should be on a bumper sticker. But I assure you - it was very, very sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lesson of the day - music rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-2695267072631562510?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2695267072631562510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-know-all-your-favourite-songs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/2695267072631562510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/2695267072631562510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-know-all-your-favourite-songs.html' title='I know all your favourite songs.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-8639238161730666186</id><published>2009-05-23T13:22:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T16:15:33.830+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance like no one's watching.</title><content type='html'>Dance like no one's watching, BLOG LIKE NO ONE'S READING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I totally forget that people read this. Which is good, I know - because this is like reading into my diary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd be a bit concerned if my diaries from 1998 to 2005 were published on the internet though - I used much simpler means of expressing my feelings. Like drawings and "I Heart ...." in the corner of the pages. I think it was the only space where I could just be immature, fragile and whimsical and no one could judge it - because even then I couldn't STAND the fact that teenage girls are just so ridiculously dependent. Like that annoying little side I needed to express, but just wanted to suppress more than anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one of my best friends at the time actually found my diary, opened it and read about half of it before I found out what she was reading. I acted like I didn't care but HOLY CRAP, I was so angry. I didn't write in a diary again, until I discovered blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest assured my blogging style is much different - but it's completely open and honest, and I'm really quite pleased with how it's all going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-8639238161730666186?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8639238161730666186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/dance-like-no-ones-watching.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/8639238161730666186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/8639238161730666186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/dance-like-no-ones-watching.html' title='Dance like no one&apos;s watching.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-647752651262468589</id><published>2009-05-22T08:38:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T09:28:36.672+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Distracted.</title><content type='html'>Isn't it funny when someone in your life can become so much more significant in the space of a few days. When they can drive you to distraction from almost every thing else around you, just because you want to get to know every little thing about them, and they want to know every little thing about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if it happens with anyone else, but it happens with me a fair bit - I think I tend to be pretty guarded, and can know someone for a while, and not really know them until they let their guard down too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just in the lovey-dovey-mushy way, but more importantly, in friendship. Having good friends and really 'knowing' them is so important to me. Letting down my guard is the best thing I've ever done for myself in that respect. I want to feel comfortable talking about the good, bad and ugly stuff with my friends without thinking they're going to judge me!! Really, we're I'm at right now with the nature of my friendships is exponentially better than high school. A lot of my friends are the same - we just connect on a better level, to put it lamely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest though, I think I'm changing. I'm working on the whole 'Fearless' thing, in both the friendship and 'extra special' friendship stakes. And it's scary - but I really, really like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-647752651262468589?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/647752651262468589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/distracted.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/647752651262468589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/647752651262468589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/distracted.html' title='Distracted.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-1323445944633285787</id><published>2009-05-18T21:22:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T21:33:24.449+10:00</updated><title type='text'>An amazing story.</title><content type='html'>Did Ben Kweller crawl into my head and make my dreams into song?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've been in the rain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've been on the mountain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've been round the fire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In fancy hotels&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Drank water from farm wells&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We sang with the choir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I kissed your dry lips&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We jumped off the high cliffs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And splashed down below&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Skin to skin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In the salty river&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Made love in the shadow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Woooah ooh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Read books to each other&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Read the mind of the other&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Flew one thousand (jets?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We laughed and we cried&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;At movies and real life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In our ridiculous beds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We danced in the moonlight at midnight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We pressed against back doors and wooden floors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And you never faked it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And frequently&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We ignored our love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But we could never mistake it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oooh ooh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We met on the front porch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fell in love on the phone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Without the physical wreck&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You gave me the necklace&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That used to hang&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Around your mothers neck&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We questioned religions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fed bread to the pigeons&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We learned how to pray&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We stood by the ocean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Turned our hearts in to one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We laid in bed all day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Heeey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We skipped on the sidewalk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Skipped stones on the water&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We skipped town&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've seen the sunrise with new eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've seen the damage of gossip and true lies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've seen the sun go down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Had passionate makeouts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And passionate freakouts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We built this world of our own&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was in the back of a taxi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you told me you loved me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And that I wasnt alone &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;My favourite Ben Kweller song. And justifiably so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Peace and (magic, lyrical, beautiful, honest and real) love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-1323445944633285787?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1323445944633285787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/amazing-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1323445944633285787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1323445944633285787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/amazing-story.html' title='An amazing story.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-6611308987015376924</id><published>2009-05-17T19:24:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T19:45:22.630+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fearless.</title><content type='html'>I find it really hard to be interesting sometimes. But what's the difference between that and scandalous? In my mind, it's hard to draw the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think my concience could handle being interesting, in that sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the idea of being interesting is based alot around the idea of being fearless. Throwing your heart, body and mind on the line and facing the consequences - coming out the end with a story to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may have to work on being 'Fearless'. But then, maybe it's more about the people that make you feel Fearless? More specifically, the &lt;strong&gt;person&lt;/strong&gt; that makes you feel fearless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because in the end, I suppose that being fearless isn't about not being afraid, or not having a concience - it's about being completely terrified and scared of the consequences....but &lt;strong&gt;jumping anyway.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To me fearless is not the absence of fear, it's not being completely unafraid. To me, fearless is having fears. Fearless is having doubts, lots of them, To me, fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. &lt;strong&gt;Fearless is falling madly in love again&lt;/strong&gt;, even though you've been hurt before. Fearless is walking into your freshmen year of high school. Fearless is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again...even though every time you've tried before, you've lost. &lt;strong&gt;It's Fearless to have faith that someday things will change&lt;/strong&gt;. Fearless is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can't breathe without them. I think &lt;strong&gt;it's fearless to fall for your best friend, even though he's in love with someone else.&lt;/strong&gt; And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they'll never stop doing, i think it's fearless to stop believing them. it's Fearless to say"you're NOT sorry" , and walk away.i think &lt;strong&gt;loving someone despite what people think is fearless&lt;/strong&gt;. i think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is fearless. &lt;strong&gt;letting go is fearless&lt;/strong&gt;. Then moving on and being alright... that's fearless too. But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it, &lt;strong&gt;you have to believe&lt;/strong&gt; in love stories and prince charmings and happily ever after. That's why i write these&lt;br /&gt;somgs. Because love is Fearless."&lt;em&gt; ---- Taylor Swift&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh she's an insightful one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-6611308987015376924?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6611308987015376924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/fearless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6611308987015376924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6611308987015376924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/fearless.html' title='Fearless.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-755060888342372221</id><published>2009-05-13T00:00:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T15:03:34.411+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><title type='text'>The back-up girl.</title><content type='html'>I always feel second rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your opinion doesn't register.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-755060888342372221?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/755060888342372221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/back-up-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/755060888342372221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/755060888342372221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/back-up-girl.html' title='The back-up girl.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-5442295843843453399</id><published>2009-05-10T21:51:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:10:20.102+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Taylor Swift'/><title type='text'>I'm just a girl.</title><content type='html'>Although I've always tried, I've never truly been able to write down my emotions as I experience them. It's far too heart-wrenching, whether it's something good or bad. I think that's why we have music. Music is greatly under-appreciated by intelligent people, I've found. But to all those talented lyricists out there, let it be known that Emily Clark thinks you're wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Particularly, Taylor Swift. I swear, this girl is so brave. She throws her heart on the line for our listening pleasure. It's uncomplicated, sure, but in this case, simple really works. I don't think males will understand it, nor do I really want them too. I don't think pretentious women will either, who think they're above it all. But I'm telling you now. Listen to any song on a Taylor Swift album; I've felt that emotion - I've been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share with you, a few of my favourite gems. Acutally, alot of my favourites. This may possibly be the lamest thing I will ever take you through, but lame is what I do well, so I'll just continue playing to my strengths. Who knows, this may be a nice soul-bearing exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay - so the first. It's called "A place in this world". This song should probably be my theme song, but there's a bit that kind of sums it all up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in this world"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It speaks for itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is, I think, my latest favourite. That feeling you get when someone sweeps you off your feet, just by being them. The way you can feel completely comfortable as yourself with them, that you can just go along for the ride. I wouldn't call it love, nor infatuation. But it is special. The song is called "Crazier".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;"I'd never gone with the wind&lt;br /&gt;Just let it flow&lt;br /&gt;Let it take me where it wants to go&lt;br /&gt;'Til you open the door&lt;br /&gt;And there's so much more&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen it before&lt;br /&gt;I was tryin to fly&lt;br /&gt;But I couldnt find wings&lt;br /&gt;But you came along and you changed everything&lt;br /&gt;You lift my feet off the ground&lt;br /&gt;You spin me around&lt;br /&gt;You make me crazier, craizer&lt;br /&gt;Feels like I'm fallin' and I, am lost in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;You make me crazier"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows me, knows that my family is the most important thing in the world to me. I count myself a very lucky girl to be blessed with such a loving mother, father, aunty, uncle, sister, grandparents and cousins.... But my mum is so wonderful. I love her to death. This one reminds me of our bond, and it's called "The best day".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;"And now I know why the all the trees change in the fall&lt;br /&gt;I know you were on my side even when I was wrong&lt;br /&gt;And I love you for giving me your eyes&lt;br /&gt;For staying back and watching me shine&lt;br /&gt;And I didn't know if you knew, so I'm takin' this chance to say&lt;br /&gt;That I had the best day with you today"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a song that I think I listen to every day. It was the first TS song I ever heard, that was in November 2006. I didn't really connect with it so much as I connect with it now, but it really is amazing. For me, it's the soundtrack to my days, because it reminds me of how special the people in my life really are. It's called "I'm only me when I'm with you". And it's so true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Friday night beneath the stars&lt;br /&gt;In a field behind your yard&lt;br /&gt;You and I are painting pictures in the sky&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes we don't say a thing&lt;br /&gt;Just listen to the crickets sing&lt;br /&gt;Everything I need is right here by my side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know everything about you&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna live without you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only up when you're not down&lt;br /&gt;Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground&lt;br /&gt;It's like no matter what I do&lt;br /&gt;Well, you drive me crazy half the time&lt;br /&gt;The other half I'm only trying to&lt;br /&gt;Let you know that what I feel is true&lt;br /&gt;And I'm only me when I'm with you"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last, describes I feeling I think most girls have had from time to time - it's called, "You belong with me". I think it describes a fair portion of my emotion in high school, as juvenile as it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find,&lt;br /&gt;that what you're looking for has been here the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you,&lt;br /&gt;'Been here all along, so why can't you see,&lt;br /&gt;You belong with me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There are so many others. But these are the only one's I'm going to share today. Can you tell I've been listening to Taylor all afternoon? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-5442295843843453399?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5442295843843453399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-just-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5442295843843453399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5442295843843453399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-just-girl.html' title='I&apos;m just a girl.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-1215960705774061094</id><published>2009-05-07T10:26:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:50:56.943+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>Again, Again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I like posting about things that make me happy. So here’s 5 things that made me happy this morning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having a seat on the train for the first time in 3 weeks. I don’t mind standing, but sitting makes me extra happy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting a free coffee from Starbucks, for “being friendly”.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The rad new buskers that stand outside the entrance to King George Square bus terminal. Their music is funky!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having the opportunity to wear my favourite salmon snake-skin heels. The kids over there at Betts really know how to make feet look sexy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Receiving a lovely text message from a fond friend, for no reason at all but to say “You’re a wonderful person, Emily”.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've decided I need to post about my dreams. I have wacky dreams. But that's for another time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Peace and Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-1215960705774061094?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1215960705774061094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/again-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1215960705774061094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/1215960705774061094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/again-again.html' title='Again, Again.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-6663467900358482887</id><published>2009-05-05T09:03:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T09:06:56.153+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><title type='text'>New favourite.</title><content type='html'>I love, love, love Jessica Marais from 'Packed to the Rafters'. I think she is absolutely brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm calling it now - she'll be snapped up by Hollywood in no time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, that show can do no wrong at the moment. Jessica though, a clear winner. See you on the big screen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-6663467900358482887?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6663467900358482887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-favourite.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6663467900358482887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6663467900358482887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-favourite.html' title='New favourite.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-5450214975016490973</id><published>2009-05-04T15:52:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T16:05:07.381+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>Don't go there.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had anyone tell you about that one person they know who is an absolute player, and to stay away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever met that person and fallen for their wonderfully genuine exterior, good conversation and the way he makes you feel like the most important person in the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever found yourself reviewing the evidence, only to realise within yourself that he really is a player?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, maybe people have it wrong....perhaps he is in love with being in love? Is that so bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-5450214975016490973?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5450214975016490973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/dont-go-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5450214975016490973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5450214975016490973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/dont-go-there.html' title='Don&apos;t go there.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-5455004061673726806</id><published>2009-04-28T19:00:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T20:45:40.633+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>I'm obsessed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;I’ve recently realised that I’m a girl of many  obsessions. I’m not mediocre about much. When I love something, or someone, I  genuinely, expressively and outwardly am consumed by it or them – this can be  anything from a pair of shoes, to a website, to a certain celebrity or  personality, a job, a book, a CD, a band, a boy, a place, a project, study, a  cause, a friend, an occasion…the list is endless. Yep, obsessed – that would be  me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;I kind of realised that I was an obsessive-type person  when I clicked onto the New York Times website for the first time. I spent hours  reading every article I could find – from economics, to politics, to art and  opinion editorials to social columns and religion columns... that was when I was  14. I read every article in the top 10 articles, every day, for about 3 months,  non-stop. Reading that for the first time, immediately concreted my future  ambitions to be a journalist. Well, we all know I know have aspirations within  the corporate world now – opting to be the one written about, I like to think!  Regardless of my career prospects, for as long as Wall St remains the centre of  the economic universe, and 5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; avenue the centre of the world for  designer-label shopping, and Sex and the City re-runs continue to inspire  socialite addicition to the ‘Modern Love’ section – then I’m going to be  obsessed with the NYT.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;I’m not ashamed of any of my obsessions, though many  have expressed my concern over a couple. Yet, none of them are malicious or  dangerous, so I don’t know what their problem is, frankly. Every single one  makes up the person I am today. I say today, because in my world, obsession is  pretty tangible – some can simply end and become ‘likes’ and others are  long-lasting, and can become classified as ‘genuine interests’. Most remain  interests, come to think of it. So really, I think after time, they just mould  in as a part of me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;For instance, I could probably consider myself  ‘obsessed’ with the following: fmylife.com, Gossip Girl, the Dow reports on my phone, concepts revolving branding and branding theory, my friends, twitter, the American economy, Disney Channel...and a few more things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;If I were to tell you what my obsessions were 18 months  ago, they would be more like this: Will and Grace, justjared.buzznet.com, globalisation, Barack Obama and his quest toward US presidency, monitoring the movement of the pound to see when I can buy from TopShop, myspace, Kevin Rudd's performance reports, acoustic covers of the Rihanna song 'Umbrella' and a certain amazing-looking guy with amazing wit to match from uni (who turned out to be a bit of a jerk, might I add).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;So sure, I’ve changed a little. But the general theme of  these obsessions are the same – people, music, celebrities, opinion-based  websites, some sort of social networking.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;I suppose in hindsight, what I’m really trying to  describe does not necessarily concern the concept of obsession. No, actually, I  think it’s more like passion. Yes, I am proudly passionate. I can’t think of  anything better to be, really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-5455004061673726806?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5455004061673726806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-obsessed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5455004061673726806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5455004061673726806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-obsessed.html' title='I&apos;m obsessed.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-5265769991471376126</id><published>2009-04-27T21:46:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T00:17:43.884+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>Things that made me happy today.</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about blogging today. I was thinking about things I could write about to make me seem eccentric or alternative. Like I've got my mind in this crazy space where I don't think about conventional things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the best things that came to mind were expressing my love for John Lennon music and the wonders of a Caramel Macchiato, I realised that I think about fairly conventional things. Gosh Em, everybody loves 'Imagine' and caramel flavoured expresso. So, I'm not going to try and seem unconventional, because frankly, that's fairly lame.&lt;br /&gt;People try too hard to be 'alternative' these days. Heck, I even had a crack at it. For 10 minutes. In my brain. Calm down, it's not like I went and got dreadlocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead of blogging about how individual I am, and showing off some photography or something (isn't that what all those indie kids are doing these days?), I'm just going to tell you about the things that made me smile today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. How crazy blue the sky was! If there is one thing I love THE MOST about living in Queensland, it's that iconic blue sky. Not a single cloud in sight. BLISS!&lt;br /&gt;2. Taking a flyer from a promo guy who'd clearly been standing in the same spot all day with so much as a grunt or an akward avoidance from passers-by. He was so thankful that I took that damn thing, couldn't take the smile off his face! That made me smile.&lt;br /&gt;3. The whistling Big Issue guy. I'ms surprised that someone hasn't given him a job, because clearly, he's a celebrity.&lt;br /&gt;4. My Irish cabbie. He told me a story about how when he drove a cab up north, he was offered a part in Australia, the movie, by Baz. Just a one-liner, but imporant nonetheless. But! He knocked it back because he loves driving cabs. What a legend.&lt;br /&gt;5. Zac Efron's hair. Because it JUST DOES THAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-5265769991471376126?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5265769991471376126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/things-that-made-me-happy-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5265769991471376126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/5265769991471376126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/things-that-made-me-happy-today.html' title='Things that made me happy today.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3966330425181217860</id><published>2009-04-26T14:10:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T14:55:19.333+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miley Cyrus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Taylor Swift'/><title type='text'>I don't like it when the radio makes songs crap.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I kind of really hate it when the radio ruins a song. Like, when they think the sound isn't right for the consumers' tastes, so they change it to a "Pop Version". Seriosly, 9 times out of 10 the "Pop Version" is crap. A sped-up version of a previously great song. So, the uninitiated form an opinion solely based on something that is completely different to the actual song. It really bugs me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, this is the fourth week in a row that Taylor Swift's "Love Story" has been #1 on the Australian Aria charts, having been knocked down for one week for that new Flo Rida song. Regardless, all they ever play on the radio is the pop remix, because the other version is branded as 'too country'. What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, here - I've embedded the two versions so you can judge for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the POP version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2D3pS2G2piY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2D3pS2G2piY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the MUCH BETTER album version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/z4xmxb9K8RI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/z4xmxb9K8RI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've done the same thing to Miley Cyrus' "The Climb". They've seriously butchered it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Fast" mix the radios are using.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/se4qtvDTHzA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/se4qtvDTHzA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, WTF is that. It's not meant to be fast! Ugh. Just thought I'd bring it to the attention of the interwebs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3966330425181217860?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3966330425181217860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-dont-like-it-when-radio-makes-songs.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3966330425181217860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3966330425181217860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-dont-like-it-when-radio-makes-songs.html' title='I don&apos;t like it when the radio makes songs crap.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-7936631673318946950</id><published>2009-04-25T18:04:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T18:22:59.722+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><title type='text'>FML</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Today, I got approached by a hot young lady in a bar. After joking around for a few minutes she said "hey I love your jacket, where'd you get that?". I then proceeded to tell her that it's actually a replica of the Indiana Jones jacket. This is when she remembered that she "had to go somewhere". FML"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I had to share this with whoever reads this. I laughed my head off when I read it. Whoever created FML (fmylife.com) is a legend. If you're not already into it, make it a habit! Reading about other people's hilarious misfortunes is the epitome of amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-7936631673318946950?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7936631673318946950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/today-i-got-approached-by-hot-young.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7936631673318946950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7936631673318946950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/today-i-got-approached-by-hot-young.html' title='FML'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3214144452750637656</id><published>2009-04-24T14:07:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T14:22:18.217+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quiz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>This completely lacks originality, and it's from Wednesday.</title><content type='html'>01. Who was your last text from? Mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02. Where was your default picture taken? (facebook) Last year at the Gold Coast, in front of the Bus Stop outside home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03. Your relationship status?Laughable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. Have you ever lost a close friend? Not lost - grown apart, perhaps. I’m not too worried about that. Respect is always there. Well, on my side it is, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05. What is your current mood? I’m feeling angsty. Like I need to have an angry teen rant. I’ve only got a year and a bit that I can use the angry teen rant card. Got to make the most of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06. How many siblings do you have?Just one wonderful, fantabulous, best little sister in the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07. Whats your brother(s)/sister(s) names? Rebecca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08. Where do you wish you were right now? At a Killers concert in Las Vegas with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09. Have a crazy side? I’d say so – but whether other people think I do is another thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Ever had a near death experience? I sat on a railing once at a shopping centre, 3 storeys up. I was 10, and perfectly balanced – but do you think my family ever fail to remind me every time we pass that railing at Oasis shopping centre in Broadbeach? No!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Something you do a lot? Daydream. Shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Angry at anyone? Neh. I’m chill at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What's stopping you from going for the person you like? The fact that he’s a young millionaire movie star, with a stunning girlfriend, living in another country. Just kidding! Damn you Zachary Efron!! In reality – probably my brain working overtime. I think about the break-up before I even think about the getting together part. Because I don’t want to lose the reasons I like them in the first place for! See – overthinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. When was the last time you cried? Watching a Gossip Girl re-run. Shut up, I can hear your thoughts judging me. I’m an excitable and emotional person, that’s all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Is there anyone you would do anything for? There are PLENTY. Family &amp;amp; best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What you think about when you are falling asleep?Anything, everything. I sometimes read a passage of Harry Potter so I can dream about going to school at Hogwarts and being a witch. For real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your favorite song? So hard! Float On – Modest Mouse OR When you were young – The Killers OR Naïve – The Kooks. Don’t make me choose. I love them all too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What are you doing right now? Nothing much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Who do you trust right now? My family, all of my bestfriends. It’s fairly rare that I don’t trust someone. I’m a very trusting person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Where did you get the shirt you are wearing? MYER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Have you kissed someone in the past week? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Who is your friend that lives closest to you? My sister – in the next bedroom. She beats you all by like, a zillion. You may think I’m cheating by choosing my sister. I challenge you to find closer friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Describe your life in one word? Promising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Who are you thinking of right now? Emma Reynolds. It’s her birthday today! Thinking of a present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. What should you be doing right now? Nothing, really. I should probably clean my room at some point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What are you listening to? OMFGG – Original Music Featured on Gossip Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Who was the last person who gave you a hug? Mummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Who was the last person who yelled at you? Mummy. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Do you act differently around the person you like? No, I don’t think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. What is your natural hair color? Blonde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Who was the last person to make you laugh? Bec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Who was the last person to make you sad? I won’t say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. What do you hear? Music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Is your hair curly or straight? Wavy – but it’s in a loose side bun so you can’t really tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Has anyone ever called you "scrumptious" before? Nope. That’s kind of weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Do you have a best friend? The best are Hayley, Bec and Jessica. But I have plenty more people I can call bestfriends, I think – I’m so so so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Held hands with the opposite sex in the past 3 days? Yesterday, walking down a flight of stairs – he was holding me up. Nothing to write home about. Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Do you use smiley faces on the computer? Yes. I like the odd smiley now and then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle? Many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Are you happy with life right now? Sure, I’m in a good place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. Are you currently jealous? To say that I’m not jealous would be a lie – but not so jealous to say that it consumes me. But seriously, while Tiffanys, Chanel, Vera Wang, Prada, Givenchy and Gucci exist and I can’t afford it? - I will be jealous. Ha Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. What jewelry are you currently wearing? 4 rings, bracelet, watch and earrings – all gold today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. What were you doing on Friday night? Uni, MW’s 18th, hitting up The Pitt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Have you ever had your heart broken? I’d say fractured, I wouldn’t say broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Have you ever broken someone's heart? The above answer probably applies to this one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now? Not really, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. What was the last reason you went to the doctor for? When I split my eye open at Yeppoon! Fun day that was! I had a black eye for 2 months. Remember between September and November last year how you barely saw me? Yeah – this is why. I was hiding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. How late did you stay up last night and why? 11.42pm – because I watched Gossip Girl, Skins, then checked and replied to my emails and read some of a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. Have you ever dated someone longer than a year? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3214144452750637656?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3214144452750637656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-completely-lacks-originality-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3214144452750637656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3214144452750637656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-completely-lacks-originality-and.html' title='This completely lacks originality, and it&apos;s from Wednesday.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-4786215812096633393</id><published>2009-04-20T14:48:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T15:07:27.114+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>I have the best friends in the world.</title><content type='html'>With every week that goes by, I become more and more convinced that I have the best friends in the entire world. The best. You cannot and will not ever top them. Why? I'll give 3 good reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. They're just so smart. Never ever ever do they fail to impress and inspire me with the wonderful things they do. I swear, I have befriended young people who will change the world for the better. I am convinced that they will become the next leaders in science, law and politics - that's a very exciting thing to sit with, let me tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. They're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;so &lt;/span&gt;hilarious. Always making me laugh. ALWAYS! I will have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;premature&lt;/span&gt; smile wrinkle lines, because of them, I can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;guarantee&lt;/span&gt; it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Best of all - they love me, whole heartedly, just as much as I love them. They're interested in what I do, care about how I feel, listen to me. They tell me that they love and respect me, and it's completely un-asked for, and real - I never ever feel unappreciated. I never have to question whether their friendship is genuine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that I'm doing a good enough job as a friend to them, because by GOD do they deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-4786215812096633393?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4786215812096633393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-best-friends-in-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/4786215812096633393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/4786215812096633393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-best-friends-in-world.html' title='I have the best friends in the world.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-3774885714899001336</id><published>2009-04-14T23:20:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T15:14:25.614+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>He's all I got.</title><content type='html'>I'll let you in on a secret. My biggest fear? That I'll end up like one of those losers with nothing better to do in life than to write my secrets on Post Cards and send them to PostSecret. I swear, some people have awful lives, but this is the ultimate of emo-ism. Writing secrets artistically on an 80c postcard is not going to make a miserable life any better. I hope I never, ever get to that stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-3774885714899001336?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3774885714899001336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/hes-all-i-got.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3774885714899001336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/3774885714899001336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/hes-all-i-got.html' title='He&apos;s all I got.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-8134649709407980203</id><published>2009-04-09T14:17:00.008+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T14:08:45.442+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Hey, don't you think so and so looks hot tonight?</title><content type='html'>I don't understand straight men who feel they have the god-given right to have an opinion on women's fashion, ESPECIALLY, if they have a noticable lack in styling for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed this in a few guys I know recently - I don't know whether it's my insanely accurate radar to detect poorly-dressed, pretentious and obnoxious losers, or just the fact that I happen to surround myselves with generally opinionated folk. Neither of those options are a good proposition. Ugh. Why do I thrive so much on good conversation and hearty debate? It's not doing me any good, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, back to the main point - why do guys have these crazy odd weird preferences when it comes to what girls wear? It's so rude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you an example. Girl A shows up looking stunning, wearing a charcoal grey silk dress with black lace embellishments and swarofski crystal cap sleeves. Patent Steve Madden heels, perfect simple accessorisation with sterling silver cuff, and a large dress ring, and some chandleir earrings dangle within her long blonde tendrils. She looks like she stepped right out of vogue, or nylon. But alas, the girl (girl B) she's with, wearing a halter-neck shirt made of satin material with a FRANGIPANI print - of all things - that looks as if she's just wearing a pair of boxer shorts around her neck, with a pair of denim shorts and rubber thongs; gets the compliment. The guy EVEN goes as far as to say that Girl A should take some fashion tips from Girl B and wear more colour, and a funky print.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has happened more than once, disgustingly. This isn't a personal story, I am representing all women here. It's a generalised example, witnessed at a fairly trendy bar recently. PS. I would die to get a pair of black patent madden heels!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when it has happened to me, I deduce it to the fact that I don't have big enough breasts. Because anyone I'm ever compared with is showing far too much chest to be respected. Which goes to show, it doesn't matter how intelligent you are, how much you adore your wardrobe or value your shoe collection, there's always going to be some pretentious idiot around to make some lame comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solution? Turn your back, walk in opposite direction, never look back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-8134649709407980203?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8134649709407980203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/hey-dont-you-think-so-and-so-looks-hot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/8134649709407980203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/8134649709407980203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/hey-dont-you-think-so-and-so-looks-hot.html' title='Hey, don&apos;t you think so and so looks hot tonight?'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-7071037690996055857</id><published>2009-04-06T22:25:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T22:33:53.324+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>Love, and other disasters</title><content type='html'>Love, and other disasters. It's a suiting description of myself, really, considering my own situation. As morbid as that does sound, I'm not playing the emo card here. It's simply an observation. My love life is MIA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that for as long as I sit around and wait for Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet, I'm going to be looking for things to do with my spare time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh - it's so depressing. Maybe I may have to down-grade from the whole, 'Prince Charming' standard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh - at least I've got a file full of a few hundred photos of good looking male actors and musicians, just to stare at, if I get bored. Ha ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-7071037690996055857?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7071037690996055857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/love-and-other-disasters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7071037690996055857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7071037690996055857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/love-and-other-disasters.html' title='Love, and other disasters'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-6563952167132463644</id><published>2009-04-06T19:04:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:56:20.500+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Monday-itis</title><content type='html'>I'm sure Mondays were made to torture me. They just don't agree with me, on any level. I wake up, feel exhausted, and fail to feel anything but, all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day felt really long too. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good part about Tuesdays is Gossip Girl. At least there is something to work towards!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing else to add - oh, except for the fact that my exam was bad. Just, so bad. Ugh. I study so hard and it barely ever pays off in the way I want it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-6563952167132463644?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6563952167132463644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/monday-itis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6563952167132463644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6563952167132463644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/monday-itis.html' title='Monday-itis'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-6921508574899988367</id><published>2009-04-04T19:28:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:13:59.962+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friday night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>Just a regular pre-exam Saturday.</title><content type='html'>There's a dog barking outside. It's been barking non-stop for the whole day. It's probably lonely, the poor thing. But all I really want to do is put it in some sort of sound proof/padded wall type kennel, because clearly, the dog's gone mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that small detail, I've been studying all day. All day. Uni can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, like that. But I deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was wonderful. I raced home from my lecture - well, as fast as I could because it was absolutely POURING rain on the way home. I think I did 30km/h for at least half the drive. But I did get to the movies on time - and it was so much fun! Monsters and Aliens was much better than I expected - it's perfect for all fans of Seth Rogan; he's the stand-out. I wish we could have seen it in 3D though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then progressed to a friend's house to play card games, chat and be psyched out by a strobe light. Other than breaking a few nails in Extreme Snap, it was awesome. I have brilliant friends - love them to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My exam is on Monday - I'll let you know how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-6921508574899988367?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6921508574899988367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-regular-pre-exam-saturday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6921508574899988367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/6921508574899988367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-regular-pre-exam-saturday.html' title='Just a regular pre-exam Saturday.'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-2897643579573048481</id><published>2009-04-03T12:47:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T12:54:03.895+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uni'/><title type='text'>A ray of sunshine!</title><content type='html'>Finally - the rain seems to have settled for a bit. I actually don't even remember it stopping last night; I'm sure it just kept on falling through the night. That's probably why I dreamt about London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to see Monsters vs. Aliens later tonight with some of my best friends. I haven't seen them in a couple of weeks, so it should be rather lovely, regardless of whether the movie is cruddy or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dreading going to class tonight. I don't think it should be legal to be so incredibly boring if you're a lecturer. But I must admit - I do giggle quietly to myself when she attempts to explain something to the class. She goes 'round and 'round in circles, and falls back on what the text says. Obviously, she has no clue on what she's talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, she always wears stripy shirts. I'll let you know if this will be the 8th striped shirt in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-2897643579573048481?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2897643579573048481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/ray-of-sunshine.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/2897643579573048481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/2897643579573048481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/ray-of-sunshine.html' title='A ray of sunshine!'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670660118704534800.post-7936922932081547040</id><published>2009-04-02T19:12:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T19:24:52.844+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>My fifth attempt at a blog</title><content type='html'>I'm going to try this again. Somehow, I always get around 4 posts into a blog and then just delete it, or leave it alone. I think it has something to do with me being a scatterbrain - I can never think of a way to put all of my thoughts in a box, concisely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a problem that I'm prepared to face, because there's something about being able to express yourself to a load of people you've never met that's so liberating and wonderful. Obviously you can tell that I think it's great - this is my fifth try to start a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think, this time around, I'm not going to blog about anything specific. That's why I named it 'Just Em' - because I'm just going to write whatever is on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to start things off, I'll give you a quick bio about me:&lt;br /&gt;I'm from Brisbane, Australia. I'm endlessly proud of being an Australian; I adore our culture, I adore our beaches, our cities, our suburbs, our people, our crappy television programs - I'm so lucky. I'm 18 years old, graduated high school in '07 from a STATE school (for all foreigners, that's a public school) - I was pretty committed, got good grades and was school captain....I then moved on to university. I'm currently in my second year at the Queensland University of Technology, otherwise known as QUT. I'm studying Business, and love it. My best friends are my family - my sister Rebecca, and my two cousins, Hayley and Jessica. We're insanely alike, it's rather bizarre when you're meeting us in a group for the first time. I still live at home with mum and dad, and I can't imagine changing that anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;For the while, that will do in terms of personal information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess, that this will be my first post. I'll try to keep things rather short and sweet - I'd rather leave you begging for more than just plain sick of me, right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3670660118704534800-7936922932081547040?l=justemblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7936922932081547040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-fifth-attempt-at-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7936922932081547040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3670660118704534800/posts/default/7936922932081547040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justemblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-fifth-attempt-at-blog.html' title='My fifth attempt at a blog'/><author><name>emilyclark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12044685001917646250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
