<?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-7577563378898060304</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:09:32.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new chapter..</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A. Butler.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02562202142871157717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SRf6qlVLM-I/AAAAAAAAAII/ddWsINqw9JE/S220/Photo+133.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577563378898060304.post-5133929626427719396</id><published>2008-04-19T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T01:16:17.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SAmpzYSyXXI/AAAAAAAAAHY/l2k5Y5QAYxM/s1600-h/coool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SAmpzYSyXXI/AAAAAAAAAHY/l2k5Y5QAYxM/s320/coool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190866745680878962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go placidly amid the noise and haste, &lt;br /&gt;And remember what peace there may be in silence. &lt;br /&gt;As far as possible without surrender &lt;br /&gt;be on good terms with all persons. &lt;br /&gt;Speak your truth quietly &amp; clearly; &lt;br /&gt;and listen to others, &lt;br /&gt;even the dull &amp; ignorant; &lt;br /&gt;they too have their story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avoid loud &amp; aggressive persons, &lt;br /&gt;they are vexations to the spirit. &lt;br /&gt;If you compare yourself with others, &lt;br /&gt;you may become vain &amp; bitter; &lt;br /&gt;for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. &lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep interested in your own career, however humble; &lt;br /&gt;it is a real possession in the changing future of time. &lt;br /&gt;Exercise caution in your business affairs; &lt;br /&gt;for the world is full of trickery. &lt;br /&gt;But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; &lt;br /&gt;many persons strive for high ideals; &lt;br /&gt;and everywhere life is full of heroism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially, do not feign affection. &lt;br /&gt;Neither be cynical about love; &lt;br /&gt;for in the face of all aridity &amp; disenchantment &lt;br /&gt;it is perennial as the grass. &lt;br /&gt;Take kindly the counsel of the years, &lt;br /&gt;gracefully surrendering the things of youth. &lt;br /&gt;Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. &lt;br /&gt;But do not distress yourself with imaginings. &lt;br /&gt;Many fears are born of fatigue &amp; loneliness. &lt;br /&gt;Beyond wholesome discipline, &lt;br /&gt;be gentle with yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a child of the universe, &lt;br /&gt;no less than the trees &amp; the stars; &lt;br /&gt;you have a right to be here. &lt;br /&gt;And whether or not it is clear to you, &lt;br /&gt;no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore be at peace with God, &lt;br /&gt;whatever you conceive Him to be, &lt;br /&gt;and whatever your labours &amp; aspirations, &lt;br /&gt;in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. &lt;br /&gt;With all its sham, drudgery &amp; broken dreams, &lt;br /&gt;it is still a beautiful world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577563378898060304-5133929626427719396?l=albutler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/feeds/5133929626427719396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577563378898060304&amp;postID=5133929626427719396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/5133929626427719396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/5133929626427719396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/2008/04/go-placidly-amid-noise-and-haste-and.html' title=''/><author><name>A. Butler.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02562202142871157717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SRf6qlVLM-I/AAAAAAAAAII/ddWsINqw9JE/S220/Photo+133.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SAmpzYSyXXI/AAAAAAAAAHY/l2k5Y5QAYxM/s72-c/coool.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577563378898060304.post-2060932483246224940</id><published>2008-02-24T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T13:34:01.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feelings.</title><content type='html'>It's so easy to lose yourself, your purpose, your freedom, your love, your strength. It's always going to be a challenge finding and maintaining all of those things. You lose your job, your boyfriend, your favorite peice of jewellery, your nice tight fitting jeans, favorite cd.... everything becomes tragic. As frustrating as it is, there is no control on our emotions but to live them out and let time heal pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Imagine you're sitting in a safe warm room with family and friends. Time is lost. You are small. To think of the relation between you and your friends, family, the room you're in, the room in relation to the whole house, the whole house in relation to this town, this town in relation to this province, this province in relation to this country, this country in relation to the whole world and this whole world in relation to the universe...brings you back to the most important thing of all. The core. You.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latley I've been caught up in situations where I can't grasp how I feel or put it into words. It's like you tell yourself you're fine, but inside you're lost. I guess we're lucky to be able to grow and learn from our personal experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so easy to become caught up in the insignificant details of life and allow the emotions of those situations to consume us. It's a big realization to remember we've been given one life to live... The life to live happily, with purpose, freedom, love and streghth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-written by "misty thought"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577563378898060304-2060932483246224940?l=albutler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/feeds/2060932483246224940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577563378898060304&amp;postID=2060932483246224940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/2060932483246224940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/2060932483246224940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/2008/02/feelings.html' title='Feelings.'/><author><name>A. Butler.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02562202142871157717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SRf6qlVLM-I/AAAAAAAAAII/ddWsINqw9JE/S220/Photo+133.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577563378898060304.post-8926607942803382726</id><published>2008-02-04T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T02:04:34.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paint it Golden..  my favourite song right now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Run away from money &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6g0X2hsgrI/AAAAAAAAAFU/wBdiWg0g_yE/s1600-h/cool+lookin+sky.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163434557158752946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6g0X2hsgrI/AAAAAAAAAFU/wBdiWg0g_yE/s320/cool+lookin+sky.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quit your job and climb a tree&lt;br /&gt;One with hearts instead of leaves&lt;br /&gt;Build a sandcastle big enough for us to sleep&lt;br /&gt;Paint it golden with the sunrise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause we are&lt;br /&gt;Like a wingless bird&lt;br /&gt;Crashing down&lt;br /&gt;To the helpless earth&lt;br /&gt;And if somethin's gonna break it&lt;br /&gt;See it all around you&lt;br /&gt;Feel it in your body&lt;br /&gt;You'll be hiding in the shadows&lt;br /&gt;Where love is still alive'&lt;br /&gt;Til all of it is burning&lt;br /&gt;Through a field we're walkin&lt;br /&gt;Empty as the open sky&lt;br /&gt;We escape from all the troubles&lt;br /&gt;Found a waterfall and&lt;br /&gt;Took a dive to cool our skin&lt;br /&gt;Finally we found this feelin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577563378898060304-8926607942803382726?l=albutler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/feeds/8926607942803382726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577563378898060304&amp;postID=8926607942803382726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/8926607942803382726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/8926607942803382726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/2008/02/paint-it-golden-my-favourite-song-right.html' title='Paint it Golden..  my favourite song right now.'/><author><name>A. Butler.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02562202142871157717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SRf6qlVLM-I/AAAAAAAAAII/ddWsINqw9JE/S220/Photo+133.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6g0X2hsgrI/AAAAAAAAAFU/wBdiWg0g_yE/s72-c/cool+lookin+sky.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577563378898060304.post-3771838790793395375</id><published>2008-01-31T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T14:48:52.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6PAtGhsglI/AAAAAAAAAEk/ysF8AuzPiPE/s1600-h/pianooo.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6Ov_WhsgiI/AAAAAAAAAEM/tSYOIcaTVF0/s1600-h/Victoria.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162163100810248738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6Ov_WhsgiI/AAAAAAAAAEM/tSYOIcaTVF0/s320/Victoria.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Looking through photos of last summer instantly puts a smile on my face. It's interesting how we have these adventures and amazing experiences, then put them into a box never to look at again until months later on a cold cloudy day. I'd have to say Victoria is one of my favourite places. I don't remember a moment of doubt being there. Actually I take that back. Maybe there was a bit of doubt when it came to the "real" reason I was there (music and performing) but besides that I enjoyed everything. The restraunts, the music, the ocean, the people, the history.. It was amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working toward completing my Royal Conservatory 10 this yr and taking the exam in August. In preperation toward completing th&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6O5JWhsgjI/AAAAAAAAAEU/mGThRExO2Mw/s1600-h/pianooo.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e course, I plan to attend VPSS again to polish my program. (Which means another July in Victoria! woot woot!) I am looking forward to adventuring the city again and being challenged by music. Everyday was a day worth while there. I can't say I had ever practiced or performed that much in 3 weeks ever. When it came to performing, I don't think I had ever felt so alive from the rush of evil butterflies lingering in my stomach. Since I'm on this topic, let me elaborate the feeling process you go through. First you sit and wait, and as you wait you start to feel nauseous and dizzy. You may even feel a slight hesistation toward 'actually' performing. You then start second guessing yourself and panic. Finally your name is annouced and there's no backing out. You stand, walk toward the stage not even registering your feet are leading you to the spot light. Suddenly you feel like you're in a dream and 'this' isn't happening. Your fingers touch the keys and your head starts to spin a little. All details learned in a song suddenly becomes magic.... You don't know 'how' this is happening but it is. Your heart starts beating faster than ever, the biggest adrenaline rush almost imagined. (sounds extreme, but I'm kind of an extreme person I guess.) This can either lead to humiliation or an extreme high. I've experienced both. Humilation happens when letting yourself be taken over by the evil butterflies. And the extreme high comes when you breathe, breathe, breathe, relax and focus. The audience claps and you're still dreaming. You bow, walk off stage, go back to your chair you had left 10 mins ago with a more relieved feeling than ever before. I'm not going to lie, performing for me is alwaaayys intense. I love that feeling of being out of your comfort zone. Interesting, it is. It mind boggles me how some people can perform without a fear in the world! Those people are my idols and inspiration. At the same time, getting through the struggle is one of the most rewarding feelings ever. I'm excited to go back! .. It would be nice if July could come a little faster..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6PAkGhsgkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/OzPU0Dijkf0/s1600-h/showcase.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6J2ymhsggI/AAAAAAAAAD8/O0tvEHnywL0/s1600-h/P1010694.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6J2a2hsgfI/AAAAAAAAAD0/n1tOGqpTx_0/s1600-h/P1011643.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6J11mhsgeI/AAAAAAAAADs/ualuwy3Il90/s1600-h/P1011814.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6J0KGhsgdI/AAAAAAAAADk/Z_7Hzts8jYY/s1600-h/x1pN1mp8dKYgTEji61MJ1Ll_Fp_fejd8unS74nFfIOcU_L2sM4bou6plxre2GQ19aCnMmlniM6D5LJfl-O8EhWGo5Ms-4xM5rMESNefisMOgoV6sTAFYgi8hg.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577563378898060304-3771838790793395375?l=albutler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/feeds/3771838790793395375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577563378898060304&amp;postID=3771838790793395375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/3771838790793395375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/3771838790793395375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/2008/01/looking-through-photos-of-last-summer.html' title=''/><author><name>A. Butler.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02562202142871157717</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/SRf6qlVLM-I/AAAAAAAAAII/ddWsINqw9JE/S220/Photo+133.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R6Ov_WhsgiI/AAAAAAAAAEM/tSYOIcaTVF0/s72-c/Victoria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577563378898060304.post-7484950499470461040</id><published>2008-01-28T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T21:06:26.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57MPWhsgMI/AAAAAAAAABU/f6kUp7J40yo/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160786787130179778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57MPWhsgMI/AAAAAAAAABU/f6kUp7J40yo/s320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So here it is, my first blog.. how exciting! I've attempted many times writing about myself, but for some reason have failed miserably. Probably because if you "know" me well, you know that I can be fairly shy, especially when talking about myself. Anyway, I decided it's time to step out of my shell a little and try "this" again, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;. Plus, I enjoy writing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; so why not!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't sure I was "up" for having a birthday party this weekend, only because this last week, I suddenly felt anti-social and wanted to be a hermit. Long story. Anyway, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Suzannah&lt;/span&gt;, (my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bff&lt;/span&gt;) decided to host me one anyway to uplift my spirit. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, I don't know whether to thank her right now, or not?... I guess since it was my first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bday&lt;/span&gt; party since I was about 13, it was nice to have one again. It started off low key @ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Alpenhorn&lt;/span&gt; where everyone met for drinks. We all socialized and talked about o&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;liiivess&lt;/span&gt;, very nice and chill. About an hour later, p&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57D22hsgKI/AAAAAAAAABE/2DoV79oqFU8/s1600-h/pig+tails.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;oor broke Suzy, with only a few nickels and dimes to spare, sat with her water while watching everyone indulge in their alcoholic beverages... Our waitress arrived with our second round of drinks, lost her balance and dumped 3 pints of beer onto little&lt;br /&gt;miss "pigtails" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;suzy&lt;/span&gt;. (Every guys &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;dreeeaaam&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, drenched head to toe along side the waitress, smelled more sour than anything went the rest of the night. My dear friend, the trooper.. toughed it out (like always) and because of that, was given a free beer!!! That's when the party really started! Kyle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Mcreary&lt;/span&gt;, my fellow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;soul mate&lt;/span&gt;, arrived an hr late (as per usual) .. We kind of have a love hate relationship, but I'm putting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;allot&lt;/span&gt; of emphasis on the "love" part, even though he probably would beg to differ. :P Anyway, I decided to forgive him since he dressed up so nice for the special occasion. I'm sure he's slapping himself for it now after all of the "attention" Josh and I gave him for it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, If there's one thing you should know about Kyle, he most certainly does not respond well to affection! As Josh puts it, "kyle is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;manatee&lt;/span&gt;" .. but a very lovable one of course ;). After &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of "harassing" Kyle and downing random shots, It was finally time to get our cosmic bowl on! I can't say bowling went well for me that night... At one point in my life I was actually in a bowling league, but come to think of it.. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;pretttty&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;surrre&lt;/span&gt;..that was a dream!&lt;br /&gt;When it came to my last turn of the night, with the score of 67, I told myself "I HAVE to get a strike!!" My amazing friend Allan thought to help me out on this one. We discussed it would be a sweet idea to throw a ball down one after the other in hopes that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; one would hit the middle. So there I went up, "granny style between the legs" counted 123, and as I threw my ball down, Allan threw his half a second after ... hitting the shites out of my middle finger! We had quite the audience watching as I stood whimpering over and over like a baby.... Allan &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Suz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; came to the rescue, went outside gathering snow and bringing it back in for my poor finger (that is now swollen blue) to rest upon. In the end, no strike for me, but on a brighter note, Allan ended up getting me a spare ! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After bowling, and in such pain... Everyone thought it would be a good idea to get little old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Alana&lt;/span&gt; even more drunk to REALLY cure the pain in my finger. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, so a few of us jumped into Ian's sober truck... Then Josh asks to stop by his Van left by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Alpenhorn&lt;/span&gt; to give me my gift. Josh and I get out, go into his van, where he then sang me this sweet song that he wrote himself. Touching, I know. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, It made me laugh and almost cry at the same time. With Josh's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;sweetass&lt;/span&gt; lyrics, I'm almost certain he'll become the next "prince charming" posted on girls walls. That's if he continues with the cheese in cheesy! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, anyway It was probably one of the sweetest birthday gifts ever &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt;! :)&lt;br /&gt;After that, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;then made&lt;/span&gt; a quick stop to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;liquor&lt;/span&gt; store, then back to my house to part-eh! I'll admit, it was a bit of a gong show! We started off by playing spoons, which to me is one of the easiest games known! But for some reason there was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of confusion going on. Let me just say, there were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of cards being passed at once, when really! How hard is it to know you're only to pass one at a time? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;. Even though the game wasn't played properly, we seemed to get through it.. (some, a little frustrated) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt; and others not as much.&lt;br /&gt;After the game, I decided to leave the "drinking zone" and go into "dancing zone," where it wasn't so complicated. After a few hours of that nonsense, it was suddenly time for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;tbar&lt;/span&gt;! Only a few joined in on this sketchy adventure, Jess, Josh, Ian, A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;European&lt;/span&gt; boy (who i don't know )and myself. We get into the twin, get our dance on, (besides Josh who is by this time feeling miserable... and running from stool to bathroom back and forth.) After an hour into this dance party, we realize the party is really at my place!...&lt;br /&gt;So we go back..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57NT2hsgOI/AAAAAAAAABk/0quULkLOvmw/s1600-h/piano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160787963951218914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57NT2hsgOI/AAAAAAAAABk/0quULkLOvmw/s320/piano.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My finger all of sudden feels amazing.) We go back to my place and I prove to everyone that I'm still a hardcore pianist. I rock out some of my mad piano &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;skillz&lt;/span&gt;...and get a mix reaction from the crowd. Some people were telling me to stop, and some were telling me to go on... I didn't know who to listen to. I'm pretty sure I should have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;listened&lt;/span&gt; to whoever told me to stop! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt; my finger definitely wasn't in the happiest mood a few hours later. After my little 'shinning moment' Jess &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;Suz&lt;/span&gt; bust out the camera and we have a little photo shoot! (haha like we always do when we get together!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I go upstairs to find some of my friends dancing in the living room, some playing drums and some upstairs in the hot tub. ( &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, this a little R rated, so anyone under age read ahead) First of all, I don't know how this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;happened&lt;/span&gt;, or why? But.. apparently naked Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;Crosson&lt;/span&gt; jumped off my roof and into the snow. This is something you just DON'T do when drinking. And this is what I mean by "gong show." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was, drunk off many random shots, rum &amp;amp; coke and beer, (thanks to friends) and apparently stumbling everywhere! I was pretty much told to bed by this point. (probably for the best)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57M0WhsgNI/AAAAAAAAABc/Wk7QxmyeHhQ/s1600-h/cards.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160787422785339602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vAMxJUh6X9E/R57M0WhsgNI/AAAAAAAAABc/Wk7QxmyeHhQ/s320/cards.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really know you had a party when you awake to many beer bottles, cards &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;scattered&lt;/span&gt; everywhere, a broken toilet flusher,a blue swollen finger and a hang over. Was it worth it? heck &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;nooo&lt;/span&gt;...! Feeling like crap the next day is never worth it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, but ... I guess I don't regret it either..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say the age of the date your born on is your "golden" year. So far in the last week, I've lost way too many things for it to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;considered&lt;/span&gt; "golden." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;.. I'm hoping this will change around on me, and I'm hoping this "golden" talk actually works. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;Bringgg&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"&gt;oon&lt;/span&gt; the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"&gt;goolldd&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577563378898060304-7484950499470461040?l=albutler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/feeds/7484950499470461040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577563378898060304&amp;postID=7484950499470461040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/7484950499470461040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577563378898060304/posts/default/7484950499470461040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://albutler.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-first-blog.html' title='My first blog.'/><author><name>A. 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