<?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-8763439327375136153</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:57:00.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Erika Priscilla</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-7097932733240455122</id><published>2009-05-07T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T15:46:16.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus, help me.</title><content type='html'>For everyone who really knows me, you know what I went through for about a year and a half during my senior year of high school and starting college. The panic attacks that ruled my life and everyone in it. I was so much better. Until a few days ago. I started a new medication for my asthma on April 4th. It helped at first, but now it has turned into my worst nightmare. I got laryngitis a week ago, and haven't gotten better. I wake up in the middle of the night, shaking, dizzy, and lost. I thought it was just because I was sick, but it wasn't. My attacks came back. I am in that same mind set that consumes my world and leaves me breathless. Paramedics had to spend some time at my apartment 2 nights ago, that was bad enough. But today got worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is flying into Seattle from Las Vegas tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;I have the best mother in the world.&lt;br /&gt;I will be gone for a while, I need to get better.&lt;br /&gt;Help me Jesus, please. My life is in your hands, take care of me Father.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-7097932733240455122?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/7097932733240455122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=7097932733240455122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/7097932733240455122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/7097932733240455122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/05/jesus-help-me.html' title='Jesus, help me.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-2952915075013264119</id><published>2009-05-07T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T15:35:46.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"a woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man has to seek Him first to find her."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-2952915075013264119?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/2952915075013264119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=2952915075013264119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2952915075013264119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2952915075013264119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/05/womans-heart-should-be-so-hidden-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-8511550591467101019</id><published>2009-04-02T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:23:11.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YAY LIFE.</title><content type='html'>Everything is going great for me. Just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;in case&lt;/span&gt; you don't already know, I will update you on my life. First; I am single. And it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; what I need to be. I am so much happier. Second; I started Dental Assisting school at Everest College on March 23rd! Yeah! I love it so much and I am having so much fun. I go Mon-Fri from 8am to Noon. I am still working at the Bridal store full time as well. Wednesday-Sunday; so no, I never had a day off. My lovely friend Nick was in town 2 days ago and I got to go spend at evening with him downtown Seattle at his hotel. It was so great to see him. It had been a whole year since the last time we saw each other. Way too long. Lets see .... what else. There isnt much else to update on other than how happy I have been lately. Trisha and I have been going to church together every Sunday which has been great. And Saosin is still the most amazing band on this earth. The end. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-8511550591467101019?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/8511550591467101019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=8511550591467101019' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8511550591467101019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8511550591467101019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/04/yay-life.html' title='YAY LIFE.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-602977950054381802</id><published>2009-03-17T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T23:37:01.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;3</title><content type='html'>“Come on, that thing is like 3,000 pages long.”(looks through book)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah. 3,000 empty pages. only one page has writing on it…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What does it say?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Lose 1 friend,&lt;br /&gt;Lose all friends,&lt;br /&gt;Lose yourself.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”So why are all the other pages blank?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing else seemed important…”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-602977950054381802?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/602977950054381802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=602977950054381802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/602977950054381802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/602977950054381802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/03/3.html' title='&lt;3'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-8903937656612305382</id><published>2009-03-15T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T23:42:25.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You were talking to me.</title><content type='html'>I haven't been to church in a while. I have gone about 4 times since moving to Washington a year ago. If you know me, that is NOTHING like me. I use to be at church every wednesday night and sunday morning. Anyway, when I woke up this morning, I had a feeling in my heart that I needed to go to church. So I went to the 6:30pm service at EastLake Community Church in Bothell. I honestly 100% felt like Pastor Ryan was talking just to me, like he wrote the sermon for me to put to my life.  I didnt want the service to be over. I just sat in my chair wanting more. The message was on friendship. So many times I have fallen short of being a great friend, and I know that. "Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragment to those who hear them." Ephesians 4:29. One passage that REALLY hit home with me was this... "Never abandon a friend... Then in your time of need, you won't have to ask your relatives for assistance. It is better to go to a neighbor than to a relative who lives far away." Proverbs 27:10. REALLY? REALLY! I have been going through so much crap in my life over the past few months, and this verse just makes so much sense to me. I feel like I don't have close friends up here because .. well, I don't. And my family is far away. So when I hurt, or get scared, I call my parents, who live thousands of miles away. God didnt intend life to be like that. He doesn't want you to be in a spot in your life where you feel like you have no one to back you up. If I don't know where I stand with God, there will always be a wall up in my life. I will be stuck inside a spiritual vaccuum, never letting anyone in. I need to get out! Another thing he talked about was forgivness. We all know that we need forgivness every once in a while, some more then others. Not forgiving someone, and storing up biterness will destroy you. Every one of us is going to do something wrong and fall short, so we have to accept that. But what better way to help your friends be better people then to keep standing by their side when they screw up instead of saying.... well, you messed up, you lost your chance at being my friend, see ya later! NO NO NO!! What is that going to prove? If you decide to not be friends with anyone who messes up, you will eventually run out of people to be friends with. Why? Because everyone screws up at one point or another. "There are 'friends' who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24. "I command you to love each other in the same way that I love you. And here is how to measure it- the greatest love is shown when people lay down their lives for their friends." John 15:12-13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a changed person because of the message I heard tonight.&lt;br /&gt;All I want to do is love people, and love every second of my life.&lt;br /&gt;I am so happy, and I am so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;I love you, all of you. All of my friends... no matter how often we talk or don't talk.&lt;br /&gt;Stay in my life, and know that I am always always going to be here for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-8903937656612305382?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/8903937656612305382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=8903937656612305382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8903937656612305382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8903937656612305382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-were-talking-to-me.html' title='You were talking to me.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-7538646078040925432</id><published>2009-02-02T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T13:12:56.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe it's best you leave me alone.</title><content type='html'>I do not drink alcohol. I never have and doubt I ever will even after I turn 21. It's a personal choice I have made and I never appreciate people trying to persuade me otherwise. Last night pushed me over the edge. "Just take a drink, Just try it, One sip won't kill you, Everyone else is drinking." What part of I DO NOT DRINK do you people not understand????? No one back home in Vegas ever pressured me to drink. They respected me for my choice and left it at that. What is the big deal with drinking anyway? Are you too immature to deal with real life so you make yourself intoxicated to forget the struggles and stress you're dealing with? What are you doing with your lives? Honestly step back and look at how stupid you look. OMGZZzzz lets TakKe likE a MillIoN pIctUreSSSsss for MYSPACE of us holding our pathetic red plastic cups filled with coors light! Maybe you feel better about yourself when you drink? Maybe you get courage to talk to that girl you were too shy to look at when you were sober. Are you failing your high school or college classes because you stay up partying every night? THATS SO COOL. I have had too many friends die from something related to alcohol. I don't want to see another one pass because of it, but is that what it's going to take to make you guys wake up and see how stupid you are being? Try doing something worthwhile. Read a book, talk on the phone with your parents, write a letter to a friend you haven't talked to in a while, study for a test coming up, volunteer at a homeless shelter, get a fucking JOB. just grow up. please. I feel sorry for so many of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im so proud of myself for knowing when to walk away.&lt;br /&gt;I am a strong person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-7538646078040925432?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/7538646078040925432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=7538646078040925432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/7538646078040925432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/7538646078040925432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/02/maybe-its-best-you-leave-me-alone.html' title='Maybe it&apos;s best you leave me alone.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-2109214790764347778</id><published>2009-01-23T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T17:56:04.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest In Peace Ruffy. 1-21-09.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SXpzWiYpXLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WuSnIO-fWSQ/s1600-h/beachcait+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294671142951935154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SXpzWiYpXLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WuSnIO-fWSQ/s320/beachcait+011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ruffy was my brother, my best friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Losing him has been the hardest thing I have EVER had to go through in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am an only child, so growing up... he was the one who would play with me when everyone else went home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He listened to me. I told him all of my secrets and he never told anyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could yell at him and he'd run back to me 2 minutes later, tail wagging, with a big smile on his face, ready to play some more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...It still doesn't seem real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People keep asking me whats wrong... and saying "my dog died" just doesn't feel ..... real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think it's hit me yet that he is actually gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wasn't mad when it happened, I was confused... everyone was talking, talking, talking at me and I couldn't understand a word they were saying, and then their voices became a blur and soon I couldn't even recognize their faces; they were like these blobs and they started to grow fangs and their eyes became green and I knew I had to run away. I ran outside, put my arms out, and I started spinning around and 'round and 'round. I feel like I am still there... spinning 'round and 'round and 'round... and I can't stop... and I don't dare slow down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am scared.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-2109214790764347778?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/2109214790764347778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=2109214790764347778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2109214790764347778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2109214790764347778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/01/come-back-home.html' title='Rest In Peace Ruffy. 1-21-09.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SXpzWiYpXLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WuSnIO-fWSQ/s72-c/beachcait+011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-604321967048761164</id><published>2009-01-19T01:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T01:26:32.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's always love.</title><content type='html'>Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;My friends...You have impacted my life in some way and I love you.&lt;br /&gt;I know we don’t talk everyday, neither of us have time for that.&lt;br /&gt;It’s crazy to look at where we are with our lives now.&lt;br /&gt;You’ll always have a part of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colton Longmire-For listening to me complain about boy problems and letting me cry on the phone with you for hours.&lt;br /&gt;Brandon Darley-For stealing my Roxy hat and Our Hearts Hero CD and never giving them back.&lt;br /&gt;Neema Khalili-For never giving up on me no matter how many mood swings I had, and for coming to see me on Christmas day. AND for taking care of me in Reno.&lt;br /&gt;Scott Teepen-For being the reason I thought I was pretty in high school. You reminded me of it everyday.&lt;br /&gt;Alex DeLeon-For proving to me that dreams really can come true.&lt;br /&gt;Alex Johnson-For taking me on my first date and showing me that you can stay real no matter how many people know your name.&lt;br /&gt;Aryn Escudero-For my flight home from college. I still owe you.&lt;br /&gt;Ashley Cardenas-For showing me that sometimes when you need to just get away, you can really do it.&lt;br /&gt;Brett Harris-For taking me to the best Chinese restaurant in Henderson and for giving me advice on all of my stupid decisions.&lt;br /&gt;Caitlyn Ward-For walking up to the Rec everyday when I was bored at work.&lt;br /&gt;Carissa Reckinger-For our day trip to the Fashion Show Mall.&lt;br /&gt;Kim Knapp- For laughing with me when my burps taste like "brock"... and then making out with him after me.&lt;br /&gt;Casie Thibodeaux-For making strawberry pancakes with me, and loving me, even when you were told not to.&lt;br /&gt;Charlie-For being the only person on West Side 6th Floor to still have a heart.&lt;br /&gt;Chelsa Whitney-For showing me that true love can conquer anything. And for driving around Boulder with me for hours listening to Barlow Girl.&lt;br /&gt;Chloe Slater-For being my best friend since 4th grade. And for Bill Porter.&lt;br /&gt;Chris Meshkoff-For making Art class in high school something I looked forward to, every day.&lt;br /&gt;Christina Ibarra-For trading Pok E Mon cards with me until 3am.&lt;br /&gt;Dan Dan Conway-For always believing, always loving, always calling, and always trusting. And for wearing the sail boat shirt for me.&lt;br /&gt;Daniel Trujillo-For not thinking I was completely crazy for bringing you Christmas dinner. And for reminding me what it feels like to have a elementary school crush.&lt;br /&gt;Dario Lorina-For taking me to my first rock concert and introducing me to Lucilles BBQ.&lt;br /&gt;David Hadden-For coming to see me in the hospital before and after my surgery. And for blowing up a rubber glove to keep my spirits high.&lt;br /&gt;Diego Perez-For flying to Seattle just to spend a week with me.&lt;br /&gt;Phillip Wakefield-For teaching me so much about life and love. For sleeping in your car in the rain all night just because I didn’t want you to leave.&lt;br /&gt;Garrett Hormel-For telling me I am a princess and for spending so much time in Boulder City with me.&lt;br /&gt;Jack McGiffin-For letting me give you rides home from work and being such a cute little guy.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob Hanna-For proving to me that you don’t need to take life so seriously. For giving me my sense of humor back.&lt;br /&gt;Jen Fetterman-For helping me realize that first impressions are not always right.&lt;br /&gt;Jim Ervin-For making me fall for you and then leaving. You made me stronger.&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy Altman-For telling me that you hate watching movies alone and then making me hide in the closet. And of course laying on the trampoline with me until 3am.&lt;br /&gt;Joe Cortez-For getting sick so I could come lay in bed with you until I had class.&lt;br /&gt;Joey Esquivel-For giving me rides home from school.&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Axelson-For WaderSkeer and Halloween 05.&lt;br /&gt;Jonnie Kawkak-For being so spontaneous and having the kind of lifestyle and personality that everyone loves.&lt;br /&gt;Jordan Connell-For being my first crush at South Hills and for the entire night of “Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape.”&lt;br /&gt;Justin Johnson-For being my first boyfriend. And for going through more then most people I know and doing it with your head high.&lt;br /&gt;KC Magrabi-For making that summer with Blaine and Jimmy the best and worst of my life.&lt;br /&gt;Lia Thormosgaard-For being my twin for so long and letting me take you to Hume Lake. “It’ll change your life, I promise.” I didn’t break my promise did I?&lt;br /&gt;Matt Frantom-For being that guy I always wanted but could never have. I got you though.&lt;br /&gt;Mclane Mahon-For making me think I was in love with some random guy from Black Diamond, Washington.&lt;br /&gt;Melissa Tretton-For being the strongest girl I know and never letting what other people say sway you.&lt;br /&gt;Mikey Badgely-For never letting our hate get in the way of our friendship. For being my first friend in Boulder City and for playing spin the bottle with me on Whits trampoline freshman year.&lt;br /&gt;Nathan Gwatney-For the night at the skate park in Boulder.&lt;br /&gt;Baby Tyler-For always always always having the weirdest things to say and for your dog that I renamed "sausage."&lt;br /&gt;Neil Sansone-I can’t really say why I appreciate you and let the whole world know about it. So let’s just say… telephone.&lt;br /&gt;Nick Symmonds-For giving me something to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick Williams-For introducing me to all of the sweet people in your neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;Rachel Montisano-For making me mix CD’s and almost killing a girl for saying something mean about me.&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Herman-For having me and my girls over almost every night and for catching me and holding onto me when I almost fainted at Mario’s funeral.&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Hoffman-I think you should be the one thanking me. You know why. High school football.&lt;br /&gt;Shane Levin-For almost making me lose 2 of my best friends and making me realize how much I really needed them.&lt;br /&gt;Shanel Meyers-For introducing me to the crazy fucked up little world we lived in junior year.&lt;br /&gt;Steven Arnold-For being so driven and smart and passionate. For loving me no matter how much I screw up and most of all, for respecting me.&lt;br /&gt;Steven Newton-For giving me the pleasure of calling you Fig Newton all through elementary school.&lt;br /&gt;Taryn Ohl-For sitting with me for hours on end talking about life.&lt;br /&gt;Taylor Henstch-For being the best neighbor I could ask for. Middle.&lt;br /&gt;Tessie Perkins-For spending so many months working at the Park Service with me.&lt;br /&gt;Trenton James Morris (not the 3rd) -For being the first boyfriend to make me cry. Jerk. And for also being one of my best friends through highschool. AND for screaming songs with me in the car. Scream talking.&lt;br /&gt;Ty Halfpenny-For making me always wonder who that cute boy in the little truck was that I would see driving around town. And for making me believe that you actually needed help with your homework.&lt;br /&gt;Tyler Bosia-For making me fall in love with bacon cheeseburgers.&lt;br /&gt;Vivian Sanders-For reminding me in the morning that I yelled “it’s 2:43!!!!” and “you would use MY trashcan!” Best roommate, ever.&lt;br /&gt;Hailey Broadbent-For yelling at me after I ate your Reese’s and for telling your brother that I thought he was cute so I almost pee’d my pants.&lt;br /&gt;Brett Moravec-For choosing me out of your 2 options for sadies dates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-604321967048761164?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/604321967048761164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=604321967048761164' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/604321967048761164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/604321967048761164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-always-love.html' title='It&apos;s always love.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-634063619330942020</id><published>2009-01-09T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T22:17:11.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>what about now?</title><content type='html'>I feel like I live on a roller coaster that I can't get off of. I'm strapped on tight and I can't close my eyes. I quit American Apparel as I have previously stated, and I have been so much happier lately. I have some bad news for my Vegas and Boulder friends. I am not moving back. Not yet anyway. If you have ever seen Ryan and I together, you'd understand why I just can't leave. I have a new roommate who moves in Feb 15. Her name is Angela and I already adore her! [: I have an interview tuesday at a Bridal store in Everett. Haha how cute would that be! I am pretty excited, wish me luck! I am going to go back to school, I just don't know where I should go. Everett CC? Edmonds CC? Bellevue CC? Cascadia CC? North Seattle CC? HELP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never saw it coming&lt;br /&gt;I shoulda started running a long long time ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I never thought I'd doubt you&lt;br /&gt;I'm better off without you&lt;br /&gt;more then you know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-634063619330942020?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/634063619330942020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=634063619330942020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/634063619330942020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/634063619330942020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-about-now.html' title='what about now?'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-4220691743660468217</id><published>2009-01-04T01:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T01:43:06.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>how do you look at others?</title><content type='html'>isn't it amazing how God can look at people with loving eyes? we need to be careful not to look down on people. it's easy to get mad at people who sin, but God calls us to love sinners and only be mad at the sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;think about what Jesus said right before he was crucified. "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." even when he was in extreme pain, Jesus looked on people with compassion and love. of course he was mad about their sin, but he still loved them. he even &lt;em&gt;died&lt;/em&gt; for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how do you look at others? do you judge people by how they act and make decisions about them based on their behavior? allow God to use you to love people. God knows how to balance love and judgement. We don't - so stick to loving instead of judging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-4220691743660468217?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/4220691743660468217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=4220691743660468217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/4220691743660468217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/4220691743660468217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-do-you-look-at-others.html' title='how do you look at others?'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-2110350104166670022</id><published>2009-01-03T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T21:17:25.259-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one week too many...</title><content type='html'>I finally did it. I finally stood up for myself. And I am FINALLY done working at American Apparel. I loved it in the beginning, but things took a turn for the worse and the past few weeks have been a living hell. It amazes me at how cruel and flat out rude some people can be. I am done having people who mean NOTHING to me, tell me what to do. No thanks, go away. Today was the last straw. I got pushed so far over the edge today that I finally put in my 1 week notice that I will be quitting. I feel like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders. So now what, right? Living on my own with no job? Thats what I was thinking too as I was driving home from work tonight. I came inside and got on my computer to check my email. I had one. Just one. From Kelly and Pacific West Dance Academy in Snohomish. "Hey Erika, just wondering if you would still be interested in teaching ballet, lyrical and jazz here at the studio. I would love for you to come assist a few of my classes to get a feel for my method of teaching.  And then you can have some classes of your own. Let me know what you think!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello answer to my prayers. Seriously WOW. I am like.... speechless. All I have ever wanted to do is teach dance and the day I quit my job, God gives me what I want. I am so happy. (=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Think about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things." Romans 2:1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-2110350104166670022?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/2110350104166670022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=2110350104166670022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2110350104166670022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2110350104166670022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-week-too-many.html' title='one week too many...'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-8891125964083438855</id><published>2008-12-28T17:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T17:56:31.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Couldn't of said it better myself.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;clownstastefuny0&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(5:46:09 PM):&lt;/span&gt; you're undecided and you make a lot of descions based on impulses and that usually leads you to get bored of what your doing and change your lifestyle often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's so true. i get so bored cause i never know what i want. but i know what i want now. i loved going to highschool/collegeat CSN. i love living in las vegas and all of my friends there. im going back. for sure. 100%. washington is NOT for me. i dont mind visiting up here but i cant live here for any length of time. this place is eating me alive. goodbye 425, hello 702.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-8891125964083438855?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/8891125964083438855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=8891125964083438855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8891125964083438855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8891125964083438855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/12/couldnt-of-said-it-better-myself.html' title='Couldn&apos;t of said it better myself.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-3296404534797912431</id><published>2008-12-28T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T13:26:59.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradox.</title><content type='html'>"The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete...Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Remember, to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:&lt;br /&gt;Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-3296404534797912431?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/3296404534797912431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=3296404534797912431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3296404534797912431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3296404534797912431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/12/paradox.html' title='Paradox.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-3717740907121864442</id><published>2008-12-17T22:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T22:32:24.627-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About Erika</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I find it amusing when I take a bag of popcorn out of the microwave and a few kernels pop while the bag is still in my hands.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t understand people who feel they need to make a religious, political, or social statements via bumper-sticker or window-decal.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t like the smell of Wal-mart.&lt;br /&gt;I also don’t like the smell of PAM when it starts to cook in a pan. I gag.&lt;br /&gt;I avoid using public bathrooms whenever possible.&lt;br /&gt;It is impossible for me to finish an entire water bottle.&lt;br /&gt;Growing up in Vegas, I don’t understand the concept of “mold” here in Washington.&lt;br /&gt;I lived the first 7 years of my life on an Indian Reservation.&lt;br /&gt;I always wear flip-flops unless forced to do otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;I am allergic to the world. Seriously don’t even get me started or I might start sneezing.&lt;br /&gt;I always have some sort of glitter on my face.&lt;br /&gt;I sing really loud in the car, but not in the shower. I have a feeling it’s because I can turn the music up in the car to drown out my singing, which is not possible considering the acoustics of a shower.&lt;br /&gt;I usually sleep with socks on.&lt;br /&gt;I usually sleep with makeup on too, which I hate, but when I get tired and lay down, I’m usually too lazy to get back up and wash my face. I’d rather wait until morning.&lt;br /&gt;I am ALWAYS cold in Washington. I have 5 heaters in my apartment and a heat pad.&lt;br /&gt;I cringe when people repeat themselves in conversation. (ie: “If only I had another chance.. If only I have another chance..) Once is enough, stop being so dramatic.&lt;br /&gt;I live in my own apartment, by myself, in Everett, Washington.&lt;br /&gt;I can’t drink warm water, and my water of choice if VOSS.&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time I hang up my phone without actually saying goodbye. Sorry, but that takes precious time I just don’t have. I’m sort of a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;Vegas is where I grew up, and one of my favorite place in the world; I miss it dearly.&lt;br /&gt;I strongly feel that an adequate amount of English should be known as a prerequisite for living in this country.&lt;br /&gt;People that loudly use blue-tooth headsets in public are annoying.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t do roller-coasters.&lt;br /&gt;Driving in snow is an enormous threat to me and everyone else on the road.&lt;br /&gt;I almost never remember my dreams for more than an hour after I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t like people who have “ring-back” tones.&lt;br /&gt;It irritates me to no end when parents do not control their chaotic children in public places.&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely can’t stand people who drive slowly in front of me. I’m not racist, but if you do it, you’re probably Asian.&lt;br /&gt;I am definitely NOT a morning person. I consider anytime before noon to be the “morning”.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never had a nosebleed in my life. Okay once, but it was forced. I got smacked in the face with a block at daycare.&lt;br /&gt;I like dressing up for formal and semi-formal events. I grew up in Vegas, first class is a must.&lt;br /&gt;I’m always [with good reason] overly polite to people that handle my food, especially at fast-food establishments.&lt;br /&gt;Fall is my favorite season, for both the weather and the required clothing.&lt;br /&gt;I am often mocked for having “guys” handwriting. I’m over it.&lt;br /&gt;I think I eat breakfast foods more at night than in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;I HATE turning on the shower when I still have clothes on and getting my sleeves wet. It makes me extremely uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;I want to learn to play the piano, and re-learn the violin.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t see the point in chewing fruity gum.&lt;br /&gt;I would drop everything and marry Jude Law with no hesitation if the opportunity presents itself.&lt;br /&gt;I feel naked without my cell phone. (I also feel naked without my clothes)&lt;br /&gt;I overuse Chap Stick, Burt’s Bees being my product of choice.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never been in a real car accident. I’ve done 360 degree spins and fish tails down the freeway on ice, but that’s hardly an accident.&lt;br /&gt;I love the sun, hate the wind, and am indifferent about the rain.&lt;br /&gt;I think T-Shirts with clever or witty one-liners are overrated and are worn by people who think they are comedians.&lt;br /&gt;My favorite dessert is ice-cream.&lt;br /&gt;I send/receive 200-300 text messages a day.&lt;br /&gt;I always obey the “10 Items or Less” rule of the speedy checkout line, and despise those that ignore it.&lt;br /&gt;I’m 5′ 7″, 115 lbs, and wear a 8 size shoe.&lt;br /&gt;I look in every mirror I pass, almost as a reflex. When you look this good, why pass up an opportunity?&lt;br /&gt;I love the beach.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t use gel in my hair, I use wax and a small amount of hair spray.&lt;br /&gt;I think boys with European accents are incredible.&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/8763439327375136153-3717740907121864442?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/3717740907121864442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=3717740907121864442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3717740907121864442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3717740907121864442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/12/about-erika.html' title='About Erika'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-3223073700600271684</id><published>2008-12-16T10:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:31:58.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Knock Knock. Who's there? Me, I kill you.</title><content type='html'>I did not start this morning out right. So here's the deal. I had my own phone plan. And ryan had his own phone plan. Both T-mobile. Then my roommate ended up wanting T-mobile so I was like hey you both can just go on my plan so it'll be cheaper for everyone. So us three had a plan together. To make a long story short, my roommate ended up moving out a few days ago and then went and started a new phone plan entirely!! So here I am with another line on my plan that isn't being used so I have to either pay for that line every month or cancel it. Cancellation fee is 200 dollars that I DONT have. Or to pay for the line is 60 every month. Fuck my life right now, seriously. So irritating. I'll get it all figured out, hopefully. Haha. Merry Christmas Erika. Not. I wrapped all the presents I'm sending to Vegas last night. I'll probably put them in the mail today (= But that might need to wait a few days because I'd rather not take my car iceskating on the roads today. I want to stay inside and be warm. Uhhh...... I am so mad, I need a massage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-3223073700600271684?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/3223073700600271684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=3223073700600271684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3223073700600271684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3223073700600271684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/12/knock-knock-who-is-it-me-i-kill-you.html' title='Knock Knock. Who&apos;s there? Me, I kill you.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-1941897052878067560</id><published>2008-12-11T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T12:25:11.961-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Begin to fade.</title><content type='html'>I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-1941897052878067560?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/1941897052878067560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=1941897052878067560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/1941897052878067560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/1941897052878067560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/12/begin-to-fade.html' title='Begin to fade.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-2182128594666859010</id><published>2008-12-04T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:43:35.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am now ready to marry him.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/warner_brothers/harry_potter_and_the_goblet_of_fire/robert_pattinson/firepre2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 281px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/warner_brothers/harry_potter_and_the_goblet_of_fire/robert_pattinson/firepre2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, You know who I am talking about. EDWARD CULLEN. I fell into the Twilight hole... along with every other teeny bopper in the world. But I'm okay with that. I finished the first book yesterday and I am going to buy the second book, New Moon, from Barnes and Noble today. How convinient it is that there is a Barnes and Noble in the mall I work at. (= It's so weird reading this book because it takes place in Forks. For a lot of people, Forks is a mystery place. But when I first moved to Washington with my parents, I lived just 45 minutes away from Forks, in Sequim. So trust me, that weather they talk about, it's real. Haha. And trust me again, there are no guys there. Seriously, don't go there looking for a guy, it won't happen. Anyway, I am going to go tanning. And then pick up my book, work at 4, and then 2 days off. Yesterday was moms birthday! Tomorrow, Ryans band has a show at the Redmond Firehouse. And then Saturday Ryan and I are doing to Christmas shopping, running errands, and then going to meet my whole family in Seattle for dinner at the Spaghetti Factory. Yum. Well I should go do something productive with my day. Maybe? I don't really even know what to do around here that would be productive but I'm sure I can find something. Maybe cleaning my apartment? Nah. Go on a jog? Too cold. Grocery shopping? Don't like going alone. Give me some ideas! I'm rambling. I must be out of my mind. OH! I hada crazy weird dream last night. You don't even want to know. Really. Let's just say it involved violins, mcdonalds, and my dear friend Dan. Yeah? Okay. Goodbye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-2182128594666859010?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/2182128594666859010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=2182128594666859010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2182128594666859010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/2182128594666859010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-am-now-ready-to-marry-him.html' title='I am now ready to marry him.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-1478120336380568514</id><published>2008-11-27T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T00:05:44.599-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays.</title><content type='html'>I meant to post this on Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's strange the way the holidays can be the hardest days. When you don't feel much like celebrating the thing that the rest of the world seems to be celebrating, that's not a lot of fun.  And if whatever everyone else is celebrating happens to be (connected to) something that's broken in your life, that can be some really hard stuff. We know that today is a tough day for a lot of you. Forgive me for saying what I said last year, but I think we got it right so i'm gonna say it again: For people in pain, there's just not that much fun in fear or blood or death on Halloween. I just wanted to take a minute to say that if tonight is a tough one for you, you're not alone. It doesn't make you strange or weak. It's okay to ignore this so-called holiday. Spend tonight with a friend, read a good book, find a song you love... it's okay. This will pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I still believe that. We still believe that. We're not afraid to say the things nobody says. To place hope in surprising places. We want to be a brave safe place.That's all for that. Whatever you do, be safe tonight. Spend it with a friend. Smile at the pumpkins and do your best to laugh at the wind. It's gonna be okay."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-1478120336380568514?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/1478120336380568514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=1478120336380568514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/1478120336380568514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/1478120336380568514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/11/holidays.html' title='Holidays.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-936752698129526905</id><published>2008-11-27T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T20:07:10.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You.</title><content type='html'>"You should dance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three simple words.&lt;br /&gt;That meant so much to me;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-936752698129526905?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/936752698129526905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=936752698129526905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/936752698129526905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/936752698129526905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/11/thank-you.html' title='Thank You.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-8449365115757930256</id><published>2008-11-25T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T12:13:18.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Finally a day off. Sort-of. I have to work tonight 6 to 11, but I got to sleep in so I feel like it's a day off. I've been happier lately. I was always sad and angry because I had to leave all of my friends back home but i have made some good friends here. Cassandra, my cute roomie. Brandon, my new best friend. He's an animal. Reuben! My absolute favorite. Oh gosh you have to know this guy, haha. Jake, my anti-asian, asian. Josh freaking Heitzman. We have way too many inside jokes for our own good. Becky! His precious girlfriend. Keirsten, one of the sweetest girls I've met here! And of course, Jon, Ethan, Rachel, Austin, Krissi, Jordan, Bryn, Luke, Anthony, Lauren, Janae, and there is probably more. I am going home tomorrow for 2 days to spend Thanksgiving with my family in Sequim. COOL. Haha that town is retarded I swear. Well I'm off to be cliche and read more Twilight, haha. Oh by the way, I am tan now! YES! 3 points for Erika!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-8449365115757930256?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/8449365115757930256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=8449365115757930256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8449365115757930256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8449365115757930256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/11/lazy-tuesday.html' title='Lazy Tuesday'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-3516675995206952228</id><published>2008-11-21T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T18:37:12.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience and Grace.</title><content type='html'>So as I was sitting in the back room on my lunch break at work today and my phone starts vibrating. It's mom. I answer, and this is what I hear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       "Hi honey, I have a story for you. I went down to the grocery store today to get a few things and when I got in line to pay, there was a woman in front of me, about my same age, and in front of here was an elderly woman about 80.  They elderly lady had just a few groceries in a small bag and she was frantically looking through her purse. The man behind the counter was huffing and puffing. The lady was shaking as she searched through her purse. Finally the lady my age who was behind the elderly lady turned to me and said, "You might want to go to another line. She can't find her debit card." She said this with a very rude and annoyed tone in her voice.&lt;br /&gt;         I looked at the ladies groceries and knew it couldn't be that much money so I asked the checker, "How much is it?" The man looked at me in shock and said "Uh... 15 dollars" So, I took my credit card out and swiped it. The little old ladies face lit up and she said to me"I can't thank you enough. Please tell me your name and let me pay you back. I got robbed last night and I think they must of taken my Debit Card. I only needed these few things and I have to get to the hospital. One of the robbers hurt me." As she said this, she lifted up her skirt to reveal a large brown and purple bruise on her thigh. "They kicked me and took a great deal of stuff from my house." The man behind the counter and the rude woman behind the elderly lady just stood there in shock. I hope they learned their lesson."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-3516675995206952228?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/3516675995206952228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=3516675995206952228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3516675995206952228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/3516675995206952228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/11/patience-and-grace.html' title='Patience and Grace.'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8763439327375136153.post-8148487351790449997</id><published>2008-11-21T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T10:09:50.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fourty Six? Really?</title><content type='html'>Well here I am. It has been a rough past few months and writing always helps me get my feelings out. As a lot of my friends know, I moved to Washington. You remember me talking about it so much when I lived in Vegas. "I was born in Seattle, so it's my real home... I want to go back." Well now that I'm back, I want nothing more but to be back in Vegas. I miss my friends and all of the crazy adventures we had. I  miss the HEAT and I miss the sun. I can't even remember the last time I saw the sun. I guess I really took advantage of seeing the sun every single morning when I woke up. Oh, and about the title of this blog.... fourty six. Just guess what I'm referring to? Yeah. The freaking temperature right now. Dear Lord get me out of the arctic. At least I have work to keep me busy. I'm working at American Apparel and Hollister. It's fun. And I'm thankful for each of my jobs having a heater. Anyway, I have 20 mins before I need to go to work so I think I'll go do something productive? Maybe? I started reading Twilight. I'm only a chapter in and I'm already obsessed. I hear the movie isn't as good though, so good thing I bought the book. I need to go tan today after work. Yeah. And get my nails done. And get highlights and a trim please? Shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8763439327375136153-8148487351790449997?l=erikapriscilla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/feeds/8148487351790449997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8763439327375136153&amp;postID=8148487351790449997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8148487351790449997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8763439327375136153/posts/default/8148487351790449997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikapriscilla.blogspot.com/2008/11/fourty-six-really.html' title='Fourty Six? Really?'/><author><name>Erika Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01797242414061468624</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aaS54F_pNc/SWhAfn-ybjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7X-Y_wBO5L8/S220/ballllletttt+010-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
