<?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-2139585181160111885</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:13:12.945-08:00</updated><category term='religion'/><category term='Myspace'/><category term='Life'/><category term='goals'/><category term='personality'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='writing'/><category term='homelessness'/><category term='celebrities'/><category term='poverty'/><category term='facts'/><category term='scientology'/><title type='text'>The Kate Escape</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-1337327142702042906</id><published>2008-01-26T07:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T08:02:03.304-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Myspace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Blogging on Myspace</title><content type='html'>I began blogging regularly on Myspace in September of 2007.  I had been using the account I had since 2003, but decided it would be easier for me to have a separate profile for blogging and the people I'd meet while doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has certainly been an interesting endeavor.  While blogging on Myspace will never make you a millionaire or bring you any recognition in the broader sense, the community is unlike anything I've seen on any other blogging site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the only place where I can receive immediate feedback on something that I've written.  While some bloggers note that when people comment on their blogs, the comment is more about them than the actual article, I enjoy reading about different experiences.  I love it when something I've written sparks up a debate.  It means that what I wrote was actually interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also gotten my confidence as a writer back.  I do not consider myself a great writer; one that will write the next great classic.  All I have known throughout my life is that I have a unique perspective on life, and that is what we are all looking for in a distinguished writer.  The structure of grammar and spelling is just part of it.  What matters the most is feeling the writer's personality come through, and whether or not they can transport you into their minds, even if just for a little while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-1337327142702042906?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/1337327142702042906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=1337327142702042906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/1337327142702042906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/1337327142702042906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/blogging-on-myspace.html' title='Blogging on Myspace'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-16739066562686194</id><published>2008-01-25T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T18:24:58.924-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scientology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Scientology.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.iwatchstuff.com/2007/04/18/Tom-Cruise-South-parkweb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.iwatchstuff.com/2007/04/18/Tom-Cruise-South-parkweb.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Tom Cruise lost his mind on Oprah's couch around two years ago, I haven't been able to tolerate him.  He's managed to convince himself that he's this big Scientology God up on the Hollywood sign looking down on all us less fortunate folk whom are too poor to throw down the dough we need in order to become our own Scientology Gods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now other celebs are converting just so they can shmooze with the other A-list Scientologists.  Maybe they have dinner parties on the weekends where they wear tinfoil hats and baste their naked malnourished bodies in Crisco and sacrifice virgins to the alter of L. Ron Hubbard.  Oh, no wait, I'm sorry, sacrifice virgins to Suri Cruise, since her crazy-ass father managed to convince himself that his only biological daughter is the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot begin to convey how glad I am to have grown up on the East Coast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-16739066562686194?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/16739066562686194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=16739066562686194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/16739066562686194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/16739066562686194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/scientology.html' title='Scientology.'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-306532418348862570</id><published>2008-01-21T10:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T16:52:03.491-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>10 Random Things</title><content type='html'>1). I really, really, really, really love the Real World/Road Rules Challenges.  they are my top guilty pleasure of all time.  Fuck Survivor and any other reality TV show (sans The Real World, but that is by far a distant second).  It is always a show I MUST see.  Nobody better bother me while I'm watching that show.  I'm like a church lady watching my stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2).  I have the BIGGEST crush on Jim Carrey.  It started back in 6th grade.  I saw "The Number 23" a few months ago.  With all due respect to Jenny McCarthy, but DAYUM.  The body he had was worth watching the movie (which wasn't the best, but I've seen worse).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3). Everyone needs to see the movie Party Monster, because Seth Green and Marilyn Manson are FUCKING BRILLIANT in it.  If you know anything about the "shockumentary" Party Monster, and the tale behind Michael Alig and The Club Kids of the early 90's, you will see what great impersonations they do of James St. James and Christine.  I didn't actually think that Macculley Culkin's portrayal of Michael Alig was as good as theirs, but when it comes to facial expressions, he is a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; good actor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4).  I love junk food.  I know it's bad for me, but it's processed goodness knows no bounds with me.  I just make sure to do my best to not live off of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5). I also love pickles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6). The type of man I usually find attractive is: dark hair, dark eyes, is about as tall or taller than I am, not too skinny but not overweight (although I'll take overweight over super-skeletal skinny), has tattoos, a few piercings, a really sexy mouth and great eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While that is my ideal man, I will settle for someone with great eyes and nice lips; great eyes are a MUST.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7). I am a make-out slut.  Yes, I'll be the first to admit it.  I'm a total, complete kissing whore.  Guys, girls, I love to kiss em all.  Although kissing girls is more fun than kissing guys, I can say without a doubt that kissing guys turns me on MUCH more.  Sorry ladies, but that's how I know I'm pretty much a hetero.  That and the fact that while I find girls a bit more aesthetically pleasing when naked (more like appreciating a work of art I suppose you could say), the sight of a naked man can do wonders for my libido. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8). I love to dance to hip-hop and salsa, and if I too lessons, I'd be really good at it.  Right now I'm aiight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9). I am not one to really talk much on the phone.  Never was.  I'm missing the girl gene that makes us want to gab on the phone constantly.  Thank you whomever invented text messaging.  Maybe that's another reason I have so many more guy friends?  It's a big possibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10). I like to play pool, even though I am an embarrassment to the sport.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-306532418348862570?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/306532418348862570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=306532418348862570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/306532418348862570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/306532418348862570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/10-random-things.html' title='10 Random Things'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-927588012067845311</id><published>2008-01-10T15:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T15:51:26.333-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poverty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homelessness'/><title type='text'>30 Dead in Greyhoud Bus Crash</title><content type='html'>According to an article on &lt;a href="http://www.theonion.com/content/news/30_miserable_lives_lost_in"&gt;The Onion&lt;/a&gt;, a Greyhound bus crash killed 30 people traveling from Rochester to Albany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading this makes me amazed at how much disdain our country has for our homeless.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father was in the National Guard for 20 years.  He was drafted for Desert Storm, but thankfully was not sent overseas.  I think about what our lives would be like if he had become injured and couldn't work every time I hear of how many homeless vets there are.  Every time I read a story about the deteriorating conditions of the vet hospitals in this country.  When I see their faces, it's a glimpse of what my life could have been had everything not turned out alright.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being poor, living paycheck to paycheck and constantly having to just barely make it (if you're lucky) tears away at your soul, bit by bit.  I've been fortunate to always have a roof over my head, and three meals a day.  Even if there were times when that's pretty much the only things I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desperate times call for desperate measures, and poverty is by far one of the top motivators for people drinking or doing drugs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us don't think about the reasons on why people do what they do.  If someone looks the part, then that's all they must be.  We always believe that the bad guys are when we perceived them to be when we were little; characters.  Exaggerated images  ripped out of a bedtime story.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad guy is not always the big, swarthy villain we read about as a child.  They take all shapes, all sizes, and it's always the person you'd least expect.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those people who died were somebody's daughter, son, perhaps mother or father.  Yet they are described as "degenerate sacks of shit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empathy is truly a dying emotion in this country.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-927588012067845311?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/927588012067845311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=927588012067845311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/927588012067845311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/927588012067845311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/30-dead-in-greyhoud-bus-crash.html' title='30 Dead in Greyhoud Bus Crash'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-3997671312144384955</id><published>2008-01-08T12:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T12:01:54.246-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Sometimes.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I talk and I feel like no one is listening to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I have beliefs that I know in my heart is what is right for me, and people do their best to tear them down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think that everything I think is complete bullshit and I shouldn't even bother opening my mouth in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I remember that because I'm a woman, and I am a person who always tries to give people the benefit of the doubt, people mistake that as an opportunity to completely talk over me and devalue my opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I remember that especially since I am a woman who doesn't take any shit from anyone, and will not allow anyone to disrespect me, is when certain men prove themselves to be the biggest cowards I've ever met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I have really wonderful men in my life, but I simply cannot be with them because I am too scared to trust again after what has been done to me in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get pretty fed up with people assuming I'm some unassuming, harmless, pretty little white girl who couldn't possibly cause any harm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I could be the vixen in an action movie, welding a gun and a leather outfit, black shades, and dark eye makeup.  I'd just go around kicking ass and taking names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I hate that the people who really need to be in my life on an everyday basis, I hardly ever see.  Either because we're both too busy or they live too far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I really think what is even the fucking point to me writing at all, when I have to fight so hard just to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't I worth hearing?  Does the fact that I live my life according to what I see is right, make my voice any less important?  Does my vulgarity make me someone who is to be pitied scorned, and chased with sticks?  Is my strongly held point of view not as worthy because it is not wrapped up in a nice, neat, pretty package?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In the end, I trust my heart.  My heart tells me no matter what, press forward.  Ignore them.  Just don't stop the momentum.  The hell with what they say.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only human.  These things get to me just as much as the next person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-3997671312144384955?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/3997671312144384955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=3997671312144384955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/3997671312144384955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/3997671312144384955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes.'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-4284261189833196528</id><published>2008-01-08T11:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T11:59:36.055-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>It's amazing...</title><content type='html'>...how some people are so used to lying it's just becomes second nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...how when confronted on their lies they either throw a fit or act as though they haven't a clue what you're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...how the same person who's been trying their best to fill my head up with promises of being a better person, is continuing to stab me in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...how I'm not even mad about it anymore.  I just feel the need to laugh right in their face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...how it's just so fucking pathetic how some people get so used to trying to manipulate anyone they come in contact with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter will not be around these people very much.  They won't be around one of them in particular very much.  (How am I supposed to trust you when you literally turn around and insist on sticking that knife in my back?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No way is any of that behavior rubbing off on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't care who sees this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am fed up with being lied to, I am fed up with having to deal with manipulation, especially when I have done nothing but my best to help certain people out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't deserve any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I get in return is people trying to leech whatever good I have in me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-4284261189833196528?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/4284261189833196528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=4284261189833196528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/4284261189833196528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/4284261189833196528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-amazing.html' title='It&apos;s amazing...'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-7122226708748462415</id><published>2008-01-08T11:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T15:44:12.317-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Desperate</title><content type='html'>I have so much in my life I need to be accountable for, so many things to juggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can get to the point where I honestly get afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding myself doing a lot of staring off into the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even necessarily thinking about anything in particular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually not thinking about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I need to force my mind to be a blank slate lately; there are times I feel the stress beginning to effect my heart and my blood pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately all I want to do is sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have such an amazing kid who loves me, but I still want more.  Most of the time I don't really think I'm going to have it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking a lot lately that I'm never really going to find love.  Every guy I've loved always comes up with some lame excuse as to why they broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not exactly trying to get back in the game right now.  I have options.  I just don't know if I have the energy to pursue someone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just miss having someone to hold late at night.  Someone to stroke my hair, my skin...someone to have long. slow, passionate kisses that feel like they're never going to end.  Kisses that make you desperate and calm all at once.  Kisses that set you on fire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-7122226708748462415?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/7122226708748462415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=7122226708748462415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/7122226708748462415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/7122226708748462415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/desperate.html' title='Desperate'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-8470046495957287442</id><published>2008-01-08T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T11:56:03.988-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>~I have a tendency to Myspace stalk people.  Especially if I have a crush on them.  If you've seen my IP address on your profile almost every day, yes, that's why.  I was probably just having dirty thoughts about your pictures and sniffing around to see what your friends are like.  (Our character is defined by the friends we keep, so I'm always just as interested in a crush's friends as I am the actual crush.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ I am a big people watcher.   Since I am usually sitting around at home with my daughter, and my town has the same old people in it day in, day out, I people watch on Myspace.  That's where the Myspace stalking has a tendency to kick in.  (I KNOW I am not the only one that does that!!!  I've looked up ex's too; don't act as if I'm the only one!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Even though I make it very well known that I love food, I have an extremely sensitive GI tract.  It can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.  (No pun intended.)  I try to eat that yogurt that's supposed to help GI problems, but I'm just not a big fan of yogurt, so I always forget to eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ I really, really need a haircut.  I haven't had one since I was 7 months pregnant.  My daughter is 9 months old now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~My legs are 38 inches long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~I love the smell of garlic, but when I was preggo it made me want to puke.  Tragic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~I have seriously been contemplating getting plastic surgery because I have so much loose skin on my body from having lost 50 lbs and having had a kid (most of it is on my stomach).  It could be a lot worse, but it bothers me a lot.  I know a good surgeon in Philly, but I do not have the finances to do this just yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-8470046495957287442?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/8470046495957287442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=8470046495957287442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/8470046495957287442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/8470046495957287442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-have-tendency-to-myspace-stalk-people.html' title=''/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2139585181160111885.post-7378292829718738140</id><published>2008-01-08T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T11:57:13.935-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Crow</title><content type='html'>Nobody's perfect. You can't watch what you say and be careful of how you say it 24/7.  We all make mistakes.  Eating crow is just a fact of life you have to deal with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, it's when you're making those mistakes you find out who your true friends are.  They are the ones who understand that you're only human.  It's people who hold grudges over every little thing you do wrong who are the ones that do not belong in your life; even if you're related to them.  Who needs that kind of aggravation and stress?  If someone is genuinely causing me that much anguish, I'm not going to be around them much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that I can do is make sure I don't make the same HUGE mistake twice.   If that isn't good enough for someone; don't let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Not everyone is going to like what I have to say.  I do not have to like or love every single person that my friends like or are related to.  I find it rather imprudent when someone acts as though because they share a chromosome or two with someone, no one in the history of the planet is ever allowed not to like them or have anything negative to say about them or polk fun at them, ever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, I don't even like some of my own family members, and I know better than most that your family is not necessarily whom you are related to.  In a lot of cases, people have to make their own families. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do not expect everyone I become friends with to like the same people I do.  To me, going around and cutting those you've gotten to know and like out of your life because they don't get along with the same people you do is just absurd.  Sure, that may have worked for you back in, say, 5th grade.  If you're supposed to be an adult for all intents and purposes, unless someone is causing you genuine grief and impeding your quality of life, who the hell cares if they don't get along?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just think that way of thinking really causes one to miss out on a lot, but hey, it's their loss if they choose to live like that.  In the end I'm not going to loose any sleep over it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2139585181160111885-7378292829718738140?l=kateaddict.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/feeds/7378292829718738140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2139585181160111885&amp;postID=7378292829718738140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/7378292829718738140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2139585181160111885/posts/default/7378292829718738140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kateaddict.blogspot.com/2008/01/crow.html' title='Crow'/><author><name>Kate</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
