<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812</id><updated>2009-02-21T10:04:53.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dotted T's and Crossed I's</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-8011390550728855651</id><published>2008-08-31T09:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T09:44:30.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Blog for You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;No matter what I do in this life, I will never forget you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We've been going on for 8 years now, and I know this is only the beginning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What is a man without someone he can come home to and confide in?  A woman (or man--for those of who swing that way) who understands you when the rest of the world doesn't.  When you are down and out, she will lift you up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;She knows what to say, when to say it, and how to say it.  Never blaming you, but giving you the benefit of the doubt when you know you were wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Knowing she shouldn't be with you, but knowing that without you, she wouldn't be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's the same for me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Baby, this blog is for you, eternally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/6451010cdc9281/"&gt;Donny Hathaway - A Song for You&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-8011390550728855651?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/8011390550728855651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=8011390550728855651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/8011390550728855651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/8011390550728855651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-for-you.html' title='A Blog for You'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-861418212071896714</id><published>2008-08-10T07:30:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T07:37:32.670-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Line</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've always been a procrastinator.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In Kindergarten, I would be the last one to take a nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, in college, I wait to the last minute to turn in assignments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If that deadline isn't within a day, I'm not thinking about it.  And it's burned me more than once, evidenced by me having to take online courses to fulfill the credit requirements to graduate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If that's not motivating enough, what is? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yet still I find myself on the brink of elimination.  Some deus ex machina figure keeps pulling me out of trouble, coming from the sky when I think all hope is lost and rescues me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I fear I won't be scooped up this time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-861418212071896714?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/861418212071896714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=861418212071896714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/861418212071896714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/861418212071896714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/08/dead-line.html' title='Dead Line'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-3243385943015735993</id><published>2008-08-05T19:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T19:37:52.256-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Those who are dead, are not dead, they're just living in my head</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I remember you cousin Jackie.  How can I forgot?  I couldn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You were and will remain my favorite cousin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When I was younger you used to call me your "boyfriend" and I was tickled (I still am to this day).  I'll be whatever you want just to see you again.  To see your smile beaming from ear to ear, full of exuberance and life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Jackie you were a strong woman and even though your life was taken by the hands of a man, you remain strong, even in your demise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;At this very moment, I can feel your spirit touching me, comforting my disconcerted soul, telling me everything will be alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know you're with God now.  I will never forget you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Jackie, you're my angel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-3243385943015735993?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/3243385943015735993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=3243385943015735993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/3243385943015735993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/3243385943015735993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/08/those-who-are-dead-are-not-dead-theyre.html' title='Those who are dead, are not dead, they&apos;re just living in my head'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-7952318448841228501</id><published>2008-07-23T15:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T16:03:49.912-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody wants somebody to their own piece of clay</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well it is true, isn't it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;People use people as a means to an end.  It's just how it is and always will be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But the manner in which someone uses another can have a great effect on not only the user, but the one being used.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I just finished reading "Native Son" by Richard Wright and the protagonist, Bigger Thomas, felt used by the superior white race.  So much so that he did not think of himself as human. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When you use someone you devalue them and their self-worth.  They start having thoughts of inferiority and nothingness.  They are, but they aren't.  They are just ghosts moving along in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Waiting to be clay to another kiln which will produce pottery so majestic and regal, yet so lifeless and moribund.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Be mindful of how you treat people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/1583517827e7b253/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Marvin Gaye - Piece of Clay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-7952318448841228501?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/7952318448841228501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=7952318448841228501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/7952318448841228501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/7952318448841228501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/07/everybody-wants-somebody-to-their-own.html' title='Everybody wants somebody to their own piece of clay'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-1191644774271636161</id><published>2008-07-06T06:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T06:24:16.493-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Demons are no joke.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have a demon.  I mean demons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;They dwell inside of me.  They make me do things that are not in accordance with the will of God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;At one time I believe I drove them out, but they came back.  Stronger than the first time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have been able to control them to an extent, but they are ruining my life.  I fear that I will be pushed to the brink, almost to the point of no return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's the money, shoes, arrogance, immature, pornography, and shy demon.  I have been living with them for a while now.  I just want them gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adherence to the word of God and continual prayer is the only way to drive them out.  I have been playing with God.  Saying one thing and doing the other.  I do want to stop.  It is just very difficult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I want to prove the devil a liar.  I know Jesus died for me and I can't let that love be lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-1191644774271636161?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/1191644774271636161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=1191644774271636161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1191644774271636161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1191644774271636161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/07/demons-are-no-joke.html' title='Demons are no joke.'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-6626987689586151242</id><published>2008-07-03T09:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T09:59:58.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There's a jumpman back there--deal with it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What is a shoe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Is it the sum of its parts, or the parts of the sum?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The Air Jordan III is my favorite shoe ever.  The elephant print, tumbled leather, visible heel air, "nike air" lo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The "Nike Air" logo was a mainstay on all Air Jordan III shoes pre-2001.  But things have changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now featured on the heel of the Air Jordan III is the jumpman insignia.  An omnipresent sign of the times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Jordan Brand may still be under Nike, but it is still its own brand.  So wouldn't it make sense to feature the emblem that everyone recognizes the brand with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nostalgia can only take you so far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What would you rather have, a "Nike Air" logo or no Jordan III at all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;A modern marvel in it's own rights not confined by it's parts, but embraced for it's sum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-6626987689586151242?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/6626987689586151242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=6626987689586151242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/6626987689586151242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/6626987689586151242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/07/theres-jumpman-back-there-deal-with-it.html' title='There&apos;s a jumpman back there--deal with it!'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-7576581894956632211</id><published>2008-06-30T12:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T13:03:47.475-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just because you wear kicks...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just because you wear kicks does not give you a right to anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You bought the kicks, not stock in the company.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nike does not need your help.  As awkward as it may seem, they have been doing this for a long time now.  And have had a tremendous success without your input.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Jordan Brand may seem to be falling off and selling itself short, but that is to you.  You are a microcosm of their consumers.  So what if a shoe does not come out like you want it.  Don't buy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm just tired of all the complaints from members who think they are entitled anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;They're just shoes.  Get over yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Song of the day:  Coldplay - Viva La Vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/1446336972b980f6/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/1446336972b980f6/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-7576581894956632211?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/7576581894956632211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=7576581894956632211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/7576581894956632211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/7576581894956632211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-because-you-wear-kicks.html' title='Just because you wear kicks...'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-1387151289736890787</id><published>2008-06-20T23:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T00:50:43.335-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More than the present</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Damn I'm glad I got a job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's nothing big; just something to hold me over until school starts back up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm tired of lying around my folks house doing nothing.  It's so boring.  There is nothing to do, and after that, I just sleep.  College life was so much better--more frenetic, exciting, enjoyable, and bearable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I swear if I look at these four walls one more time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And what's worse is my mother is always yelling at my nephews.  So I don't have to deal with that either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I mean I don't mind helping out around the house, since I am living here rent free.  I just need something to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I need to break the monotony.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of the day:  Anthony Hamilton - Sailin' Away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/13958119ee198435/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/13958119ee198435/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-1387151289736890787?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/1387151289736890787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=1387151289736890787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1387151289736890787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1387151289736890787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-than-present.html' title='More than the present'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-1161601596878740483</id><published>2008-06-16T08:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T09:15:43.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Or is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I sincerely believe that my friend and I will marry and have kids in some grandiose house that fairytales are made of.  But this is real life.  And I like to think realistically. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Realistically, I don't know what the future holds for the two of us.  I don't even know if there is a us.  I do know that I want her, and she wants what she can't have, and I may or may not be that want, but I do look to satiate her every need.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But what can I do when she's faking and feinting with the ball in her hand?  She's about as consistent as Kobe Bryant was in Game 5 of the NBA Finals last night.  You just don't know what you're going to get from her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I want to get the MVP--to show up in the big moments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She's the Most Valuable Person to me.  At times can she can the Most Vindictive, but I digress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't want the clock to wind down and have her miss her coronation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;With the world against us, a team of two in love can overcome any defense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's no I in team.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Song of the day:  Marvin Gaye - My Last Chance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/13701828e9cf5fea/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/13701828e9cf5fea/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-1161601596878740483?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/1161601596878740483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=1161601596878740483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1161601596878740483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1161601596878740483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-last-chance.html' title='My Last Chance'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-1159562834684012809</id><published>2008-06-13T13:43:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T15:29:44.732-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Woman is a Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday at Six Flags, I observed something that left me stunned.  A man putting his hand on a woman.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't mean holding her hand, hugging her, or saving her from some unfortunate event. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This guy had the nerve to beat this woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It all started when two girls were in line for funnel cake.  The guy comes out of nowhere and busts in front of them.  The vendor ignores this and goes onto fulfill the order of the two ladies.  While the drink is being handed to the ladies, the guy has the nerve to knock it out of her hand.  The vendor replaces the drink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Next, the vendor hands the guy a funnel cake.  One of the two ladies proceed to knock the funnel cake out of his hand.  The guy reacts by "pieing" the funnel cake in the woman's face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The girl punches the man in his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens next still shocks me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The guy proceeds to punch the young lady, causing blood to fly everywhere.  He doesn't stop here, but beats the woman until her friend jumps in.  And then proceeds to beat her as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This goes on until security comes in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The onus does not fall on security, bystanders, or the vendor, but the man.  Somewhere he missed the memo that said women ought to be treated with the utmost respect, at all times, and under all situations.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;At no time in a man's life, should he hit a woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Women should not be degraded to something less than what they are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Every woman is a queen and are to be treated as such.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Song of the Day:  Lauryn Hill &amp;amp; D'Angelo - Nothing Even Matters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/13569591c03dfb1b/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/13569591c03dfb1b/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-1159562834684012809?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/1159562834684012809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=1159562834684012809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1159562834684012809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/1159562834684012809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/every-woman-is-queen.html' title='Every Woman is a Queen'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-3692126204718986894</id><published>2008-06-10T22:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T22:39:43.698-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm here to stay.  Won't be going anywhere no time soon and you just have to deal with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I may bug you at times and get on your nerves, but that doesn't hide the fact that I love you.  Want to be with you until my stay is up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And even when I enter those pearly gates, you will stay on my mind.  All I know is that where you go, I will follow.  I can't be away from you too long.  These three years have been a killer for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Not being able to see you has made me stay.  When friends told me to leave, I stayed and prayed.  This time without you has made me stay, when my heart and mind told me to go.  They don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;About my soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Song of the day:  John Legend - Stay With You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/134328449b51015f/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/134328449b51015f/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-3692126204718986894?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/3692126204718986894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=3692126204718986894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/3692126204718986894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/3692126204718986894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/stay.html' title='Stay'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-765491376041584296</id><published>2008-06-08T23:22:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T23:55:18.627-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Age Aint Nothin' But a Number</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate that word.  I love my comfort zone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't want to change what I'm doing now because to me it's right.  To others, it may now seem right, but if it aint broke, don't fix it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, it is broke.  The first step is acceptance, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I want to treat others better; I want to work harder; I want to apply myself more; I want to be a better christian; I want....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No, I need.  It's tough when you know what's best for you is also what's worst for you.  But I want to be a better man, not boy.  I want my mother to be proud of the man she raised.  I don't want her to hope one day that her little boy grows up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think that is the biggest enemy of young men around the nation.  They just don't grow up.  Forever enamored with their youthful innocence, they miss the boat, and end up in a perpetual state of perplexion.  Wondering, if what they are doing is right.  Why the next man has everything he wants and more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The next man is a man.  You're just a boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm tired of being a boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Song of the day:  Lil Wayne - Shoot Me Down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/133274491d2ac2f0/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/133274491d2ac2f0/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-765491376041584296?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/765491376041584296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=765491376041584296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/765491376041584296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/765491376041584296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/age-aint-nothin-but-number.html' title='Age Aint Nothin&apos; But a Number'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-6467666491997625769</id><published>2008-06-06T22:22:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T22:43:01.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Too Much</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay, I don't want this blog to only be about the ongoing struggle between me and my longtime love interest.  I want it to be a multi-faceted catharsis of my daily ongoings.  But right now I'm going through this, so here you have it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So how much is too much?  When is too much, enough?  Is enough ever too much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As the great Luther Vandross once said, "Never too much, Never too much"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That heartfelt lyric rings true today.  I want to give every single last drop, but I'm left feeling like if I do give too much, it may come off wrong.  If I let my heart lead me, will my attempts seem overdone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This conundrum leaves me in a grey area in which I remain agnostic, and neither call too little nor too much--I don't call at all.  So instead of giving too much, which I'm afraid of doing, I don't give anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know I won't always have the answers, but if I'm true to myself, there can never be too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Song of the day:  Luther Vandross - Never Too Much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/132366301f11a05e/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/132366301f11a05e/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-6467666491997625769?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/6467666491997625769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=6467666491997625769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/6467666491997625769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/6467666491997625769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/never-too-much.html' title='Never Too Much'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661552731328069812.post-4665506138558326726</id><published>2008-06-05T07:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T08:48:19.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unorthodox Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is my blog.  I've been thinking about doing one for a while now.  And it's finally here.  Well, let's get the ball rolling.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How typical it is to start a blog off with the complications with a love interest, and it's no different here.  I've known this girl for about 10 years now and the relationship has been anything but typical.  She gives off mixed signals and it doesn't help that she is in another state.  We are not together, but I've been hooked on her for a minute.  I don't feel she cares for me as much as I do her, but when we are on the phone her tone changes, she lightens up, and she gives me her attention.  We've always had that connection, but I've done some things to her that I regret dearly.  And I fear that this continues to linger on in her mind.  After all, who--male or female--wants to get hurt again?  So she protects herself, or so I think.  I really don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't really asked her about it out of fear.  I'm not scared of her or anything, but I don't want to mess up again, so I censor myself almost to a fault.  I feel this has robbed me from giving her my all and showing her the person I am.  I don't call when I feel I should, which can go on for weeks.  I know I'm feeling her, but I don't know if she knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;  I need to be more consistent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's my drug at the moment and damnit, I can't kick her.  I get a natural high when I think or talk about her.  Her control is out of my control.  But like all drugs, it's not a two-way thing.  Most of the time it's the drugee who comes out on the losing end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope love isn't a losing game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of the day:  Raheem DeVaughn - Love Drug&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/13154158db6428f5/"&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/13154158db6428f5/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661552731328069812-4665506138558326726?l=dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/feeds/4665506138558326726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661552731328069812&amp;postID=4665506138558326726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/4665506138558326726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661552731328069812/posts/default/4665506138558326726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dottedtsandcrossedis.blogspot.com/2008/06/unorthodox-love.html' title='Unorthodox Love'/><author><name>Eye See Soles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12398859253431163313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08842623828465216411'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>