<?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-6912088058169260164</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:26:32.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Myself Exposed</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>myselfexposed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15511988400755161400</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>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6912088058169260164.post-7431850969233018204</id><published>2009-06-07T04:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T05:42:31.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gypsy Fade</title><content type='html'>I just pulled a "gypsy fade" at a party to go home and watch the movie "He's just not that in to you" with a couple friends.  I'm shaking my head right now.  Are women really like that?  According to my friends who watched it with me, who are both men, they are.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this might be the reason I'm still single.  I really don't think I'm like any of those characters.  Even me saying that makes me a little bit typical.  This is disturbing.  I honestly can't see myself, today, doing any of the things that those girls did in the movie....chasing after someone, staying with someone who cheated on you, being with a married man, or even making something out to be more than it's not.  The movie seemed to make women look desperate for relationships, willing to give up on standards, naive and quick to sacrifice instead of compromise.   Worst of all...just compromising too much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If it is, it is.  If it's not, it's not.  It should just be that simple, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to be in love and never look back as much as the next person does.  I love being in love.  But I don't want to look for it or hope for it.  What's so bad about going through life without a partner if they don't come along?  See, I have to try to convince myself that companionship is just an instinct.  Which is funny because you can't really change instincts.  Haha, my heart pounded off beat for a second.  Must be because I have a soul and not just a muscle in my chest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only part of the movie I really agree with was the fact that if a dude is really into you, he'll make it obvious.  Remember that part ladies :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's almost 6am, I gotta go to bed.  Good night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6912088058169260164-7431850969233018204?l=myself-exposed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/feeds/7431850969233018204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/2009/06/gypsy-fade.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default/7431850969233018204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default/7431850969233018204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/2009/06/gypsy-fade.html' title='The Gypsy Fade'/><author><name>myselfexposed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15511988400755161400</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-6912088058169260164.post-2000493722179366425</id><published>2009-06-05T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T23:44:39.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Beginning</title><content type='html'>I have a degree and I had a career.  I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; don't want to have the career that I had before.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I woke up at 5am this morning and took a shower.  Out of nowhere I started remembering all of the bits and pieces of my last job that I dreaded...  The contractor who wouldn't shake my hand and instead belittled me for what seemed like an eternity while his face turned beet red.  The crazy lady who would call me 2 or 3 times a day to complain for hours about how her house was torn apart.  The stress of having to meet sales goals while trying not to make my clients feel pressured into making big triple digit decisions too quickly.  The answering machine FULL of nasty voice mails first thing in the morning....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's so weird to me to write this.  Anyone who knows me knows I am unbelievable (aka annoyingly) positive.  I am a people pleaser but the honest kind.  I am not a good lier.  And I really was good at my job too.  I swear!  I wasn't a pushover or anything, I was tough!  It's just that apparently I really didn't like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since being laid off I haven't contacted any of my clients to set up appointments to take pictures of the remodels I did for them.  The truth is, I don't want to.  I don't want to be needed in the way they needed me ever again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BUT next time around...I think I want to have a career where I help people in need not people with wants.  Everything happens for a reason though.  I'm thankful I had that experience.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6912088058169260164-2000493722179366425?l=myself-exposed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/feeds/2000493722179366425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default/2000493722179366425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default/2000493722179366425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-beginning.html' title='New Beginning'/><author><name>myselfexposed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15511988400755161400</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-6912088058169260164.post-3041766107384018193</id><published>2009-06-03T02:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T19:59:07.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a limit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Do people stop you often to tell you that they can read who you are through your eyes?  Hmm, it seems to happen to me a lot.  I've been told I have large eyes.  I know large eyes are said to read as trusting and inviting in terms of body language. So, physically, I appear to be comfortable to talk to because of how I look on the surface.  It's amazing, there is an entire science based around how people act and are perceived because of how they look.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;I am also intuitive...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Just after last call at the bar I was at for karaoke tonight my friends and i were stopped by a random guy who figured his way into a conversation with us, out of the blue, and then his eyes latched on to my face for so long that my friends eventually left...waiving their hands behind him, at me, to make sure that I was OK.  I waived back.  I was OK just spooked, baffled and interested in what this person had to say, and, for no other reason but to have a funny story to tell.  I mean, he was talking a little bit to me but his eye contact was intense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Sure, I thought this guy had ulterior motives at first (not that I would ever respond in favor to them).  He was talking to me about how he could tell that I was a good person and how I have trusting eyes (give me a break).  I asked how he could know that just by looking at me.  I mean, I know that I am a trustworthy person but he could say the same thing to anyone else and they would believe it to be true as well.  I don't buy in to people who act like they are psychic or believe themselves to have some higher level of intuition.  I kinda wanted to call him out but eventually I could tell he wasn't just a drunk guy rambling. I was creeped out and sincerely intrigued by how deeply he kept looking into my eyes while talking to me.  I can't explain it but I really felt like he was trying to read my mind through my eyeballs.  Also, he had mentioned something about aura's at one point too but...whatever.  I don't even want to go there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;So, I shot straight from the hip.  Why waste time right?  I asked him if he thought he was psychic.  He said his ex girlfriend was into witch craft and that she thought she could read minds.  He said he felt he might have picked up on a little bit of that himself.  This is when I started backing away.  This is also the point when he started locking eyeballs with me even more intensely.  Through my expressions, I'm sure, he could tell I was not connecting with him at all but just being entertained.  He started talking about how he felt that there was a balance between darkness and light and that he fell towards the light rather than the dark.  He said as long as you believe in the light....and at this point my totally creepy mind connection with him faded compleeeetely.  DONE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Like I said, I am intuitive and my intuition told me that the conversation was interesting while it lasted but this guy was definitely NOT on the 'light' side of the spectrum (whatever that means).  As soon as I came to that conclusion the bartender shouted 'last call!' again.  I saw the random dude look toward the bar and I assumed he had to close out his tab.  I tapped his arm to let him know I was going outside if he wanted to continue the conversation.  Only, I didn't want to.  I knew if he really was as much of a mind reader as he tried to portray himself to be he would know that there was no way in hell that I was waiting outside for him and that I was going to run straight to my car to go home.  This is exactly what I did.  I even looked back to see if he noticed but he didn't.  Psh, you're not psychic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Ugh, creepy fake mind control dude...you are not part of the good side...you are part of the bad.  For the record I don't think I'm psychic but I'm intuitive enough to tell when other people are or think that they are.  You were a phony and I'm glad I got this story out of you.  I love crazy people.  They are so entertaining.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Also, nothing beats sensing someone's psyche before seeing or meeting them.  Beat that random dude.  You and anyone else in the world can read my eyes.  They are big and my expressions are very animated.  I'm just saying, I would beat you in a game of who's more intuitive than who.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Thank you. Good night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Katie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Ps. Friends, this was my first blog.  It was so much better in my mind but now it's online and also....it's almost 4am.  I'll do much better next time :)  Love you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6912088058169260164-3041766107384018193?l=myself-exposed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/feeds/3041766107384018193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-have-limit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default/3041766107384018193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6912088058169260164/posts/default/3041766107384018193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myself-exposed.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-have-limit.html' title='I have a limit'/><author><name>myselfexposed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15511988400755161400</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>
