<?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-10373353</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:11:50.228-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Come On In</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-114411876903520715</id><published>2006-04-03T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T21:46:09.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Stuff</title><content type='html'>I'm mad that I'm having to buy all of the baby's stuff by myself.  I get about a thousand as bonus. I'm going to pay my car note and rent. With what I have left I will get a glider/ottoman combo from JCPenny for $200.  My tax return should be here within 3 weeks or so. It's only 6 hundred, but I will use about 400 to buy furniture and bedding.  Whatever is left will be used to decorate the room. I'm using 100 to get some decorative stuff for the house.  I'll be fine being broke for another month, as long as my baby's stuff is taken care of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-114411876903520715?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/114411876903520715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=114411876903520715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114411876903520715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114411876903520715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2006/04/baby-stuff.html' title='Baby Stuff'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-114411852009383784</id><published>2006-04-03T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T21:42:00.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Damn</title><content type='html'>For some reason this nigga irritates the shit out of me. I don't like him driving my new car with a suspended license, not when I'm not with him anyway. He has this thing about fucking things up when he starts talking. If I'm with him, I can let them know that I didn't know his license is suspended so they won't impound my car. If he's by himself, they'll probably end up coming to the house to arrest me or some shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime he gets my car he likes to drive to his cousins house. Granted, he told me he was going to the store and back. Sayin some shit like he wanted to get out of the house. Okay, they live like a 5 minute walk from us, so why does he have to wait until he gets my car to go?? Then if I said to him, after he asked if he could take my car to get some cigarettes, that he needs to walk, why would he take it upon himself to go somewhere else in my shit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He always has to run over there for something or another.  Said something about having to tell his sister that we're leaving Friday instead of Saturday. Yea, that's real pertinent information that just had to be told tonight and not tomorrow or Wednesday. Right. And if someone there owes me money, why would he go over there without me? I'm just wondering. Shit and the police in this area are the worst in the county. &lt;em&gt;Everybody&lt;/em&gt; knows this. But he's trying to make me think that I know nothing about police in this area. Shittin me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-114411852009383784?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/114411852009383784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=114411852009383784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114411852009383784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114411852009383784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2006/04/man-damn.html' title='Man Damn'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-114410235347429182</id><published>2006-04-03T17:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T17:12:33.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So today I find out that the only way to make more money here @ the job is to quit and then come begging for my job back. Doesn't make any sense does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chick I used to work with, she made 25 cents more than me. I never had a problem with that, she has 2 kids, hell she should be making more. Her bonuses would come out to more than mine, but we performed 2 totally different duties so I didn't stress over it. But, when she quit, I had to do her job plus mine. I never got a raise, my bonuses came up to about 500 more a month, but that's it, if that much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She came begging for her job last Thursday and started back today. Come to find out, she's making 2.50 more an hour than me. Her bonuses are paid differently than mine though. For set appointments that show up, we both get $5. If her appt purchases, she gets $10, if mine purchase, I get $25.  The bonus that I made this month came up to $1050. Calculating my hours worked and bonuses, in comparison to her pay plan, I make about $200 more than her a month. But, I know that it will not always be that way. For one, she is going to steal some of my appts, that's what she did when she was here before. If people were our people and the other could not get credit for them, I wouldn't say shit. But it's not that way and either I cause a big stink about her quitting and then getting paid more an hour or I'm going to go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may just ask our manager (who didn't even hire her, someone else did) if we can keep our own people. Oh wait, then I forgot to mention. When we were hired (she was hired a month after me) it was required to work all Saturdays unless it was an emergency.  Now she gets a 9-5 M-F schedule and every other Saturday off. Man come on, wtf???  Before the excuse for her getting all the breaks was that she has 2 kids so they wanted to cut her some slack. Hmm, I'm pregnant now, so what will their excuse be now????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I were a little white girl. Then maybe I could get cut some slack around here. All there are here are fucking "good ole boys"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-114410235347429182?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/114410235347429182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=114410235347429182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114410235347429182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114410235347429182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-today-i-find-out-that-only-way-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-114004611630120443</id><published>2006-02-15T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T18:28:36.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Tired</title><content type='html'>This pregnancy has been completely exhausting for me. Ooh, I'm having a boy. Yay for that. I just don't know what to do anymore. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; Ex is upsetting me more and more. So yeah, he finally acknowledges that the baby is his and he wants me to go to counseling. I have no problem with that, this way, he can probably go with me a little later on. I mention to him that he may probably benefit from individual counseling and he blows up on me. So now, all of our problems are MY fault and that's why I need to go and not him. What the fuck ever. EVERYONE has issues of some sort. I don't care if he went to counseling 2 yrs ago, he's a different person now than he was then and for some reason he refuses to believe that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I can't wait to move in a couple of weeks, but he's bullshitting on helping me with that as well. All he ever wants to do is sit around and play on the computer or drink beer. Everytime he has a little extra money he blows it on cigarettes and/or beer. He has not bought one thing for this baby and it's pissing me off. Go get a fucking job. I don't feel it's fair that I will have to do this all on my own, especially since I'm actually in school and working. I know this was something I should have looked at before I got pregnant, but it's too late now. Now I just want some changes to be made and made now. The months are flying by, I won't be able to work in about 3 months, hopefully they won't tell me I have to stop before then. I want to stay home with the baby for at least 2 months, hell I need at least a month anyway because I have to have a c-section. I don't think he thinks about all of that, but that needs to change.  I will have to pay to move on my own, I pay to maintain 2 cars, I can't even buy shit for myself because I'm taking care of all of this on my own and I'm so tired. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I need to quit whining. Things aren't about to change so I need to just suck it up and do everything I can to make all of this as easy as possible. I haven't even really bought anything for my baby yet, what kind of shit is that??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-114004611630120443?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/114004611630120443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=114004611630120443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114004611630120443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/114004611630120443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2006/02/just-tired.html' title='Just Tired'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-113751302187425516</id><published>2006-01-17T10:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T10:50:21.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Troubles</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I wasn't expecting him to leave like that but we've gone through a lot in the past year. Before I'd found out I was pregnant, we had just broken up and decided to give it a try again. He was with me but had already told me that he wanted a paternity test because he felt that I'd been cheating on him (I hadn't, the one time I messed with someone else, we were not together) and that the baby probably isn't his. I told him he was more than welcome to get a test done but he better apologize when the results show that he is the father. I want him there because I get scared that I will not be able to handle everything on my own. My mother is deceased, it will be 4 yrs next week, and I do not have a good relationship with my father. My aunt and grandfather are really the only family I have but they aren't in a position where they can really help me. I can't even lift regular shit around the house, it hurts so bad. He knows the problems that I'm having and he left anyway. That just let me know what kind of man he is, and I'm better off without him. I need to move in the next month or so (the house I'm renting has mold and I need to break my lease and get out of there, plus it's too expensive because I will have the baby and need to get a new car). I will find someone to help me move and I just pray that we will be alright. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I just had a really bad day. I slipped twice yesterday and hurt my butt both times, one time on the showroom floor, the other time in the bathroom. Someone stole my lunch at work and then he ate the food I was saving to eat when I got home. I found out that my manager is leaving @ the end of the month and I don't know if this means they will shut my department down or not, I guess they aren't since yesterday he was talking about hiring someone to help me and he wanted me to look at applications, but the car business is so dirty, they'll hire someone and fire her the next day. I get home and don't want to talk. He has been drinking and tries to start an argument with me. I ask him to leave me alone and he won't. I start shouting and he does too, the next thing I know he's packing up his stuff and saying he was stupid to even come back. His friend calls me and asks me if I want him to come get him and I say no because he shouldn't run away every time things get bad and then I say yes because if he doesn't want to be there, what kind of person am I to try to force him to stay. I wrote him a letter and apologized for saying some of the hurtful things I'd said to him and he just read the letter and crumpled it up. Oh well. He asked me not to call him and so far, I have not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-113751302187425516?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/113751302187425516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=113751302187425516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/113751302187425516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/113751302187425516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2006/01/more-troubles.html' title='More Troubles'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-113485409803306830</id><published>2005-12-17T16:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T16:14:58.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blown about a lot of Shit</title><content type='html'>I'm being forced to reevaluate a lot of relationships in my life. In all honest, almost every single one of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday a lot of things go on that I am unhappy with, but I try to not let them affect my daily life. Lately, it has been next to impossible to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I don't feel like going into details, but just know that I am tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-113485409803306830?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/113485409803306830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=113485409803306830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/113485409803306830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/113485409803306830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/12/blown-about-lot-of-shit.html' title='Blown about a lot of Shit'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112950265782662939</id><published>2005-10-16T17:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T17:44:17.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.tickercentral.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.tickercentral.com/view/4laf/1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112950265782662939?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112950265782662939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112950265782662939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112950265782662939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112950265782662939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/10/blog-post_16.html' title=''/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112865171866441401</id><published>2005-10-06T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T21:21:58.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>still depressed</title><content type='html'>For the most part, I haven't really thought about Matt today. Last night I prayed on the situation and I felt better.  Today I came to the conclusion that his ex must be in the picture. That is the only halfway reasonable explanation. I wish he would have just told me this, but I've come to the realization that most males are cowards when it comes to that so I just gotta get over it.  I just hate the fact that it seemed like everything between us was so perfect, ut I guess not as perfect as I thought. I wonder if it's his ex or someone new.  If he were to call me, I'd talk to him, but not like that. Not gonna play me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked my ex where could i go to meet someone new and do you know that ass had the nerve to tell me he'd hook me up with someone??? yeah...like I would ever seriously trust that..lol  I'll figure out something sooner or later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112865171866441401?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112865171866441401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112865171866441401' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112865171866441401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112865171866441401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/10/still-depressed.html' title='still depressed'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112842947656874881</id><published>2005-10-04T07:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T07:37:56.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>**sigh**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to move on. I think I suffer from seasonal depression, so all of this is definitely not making it any better. I must get over it. I erased his name and pictures out of my phone. I will keep myself busy and just focus on meeting someone else. I don't know where I'll meet someone, at school I'm in and out, and at work I stay upstairs. It's all good though. The ironic thing about Matt is that 4 people told me to talk to him because he is "the sweetest guy anyone could ever know"  HA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112842947656874881?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112842947656874881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112842947656874881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112842947656874881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112842947656874881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/10/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112836800920476238</id><published>2005-10-03T14:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T17:09:47.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Much??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Today, during a moment of clarity, I realized that I am crazy. lol I'm not bullshitting. Today I called Matt's house # (blocked mine of course) and the first time it rang, I was hung up on. I figured he was asleep or something, so I waited five min and called it back, he sounded like he was just waking up and I paniced and hung up on him. I called my homegirl and asked her what should I do because Saturday night I text messaged him and asked for him to call me asap, then last night I left a message saying that I had really needed to talk to him, but to forget it and that I won't be bothering him anymore. So today when he answered, something in me just kind of snapped. My homegirl told me to just go out there, I could just say that I was in the neighborhood after dropping my best friend off @ her mom's house since they live about 5 min away from each other. Sounded like a good plan...so I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to his house and I see his car and the work truck out there, so I know that he's home. I knock on the side door first and then go to the front door. I ring the doorbell twice and knock...I think I hear someone moving around inside, so I wait patiently. About 3 minutes later I go to my car and call my homegirl. I was blown like shit, so I decide to write him a letter. I tell him that I stopped by to see how he's doing and that I figured he was home since I saw the cars, but maybe I was mistaken. Say something about I know that he has to work and I understand that he's tired, but it's fucked up that he hasn't even called to say hello, especially when I've been calling him like crazy. Then I proceed to tell him that it's fucked up that he hasn't called a nigga and then end the letter by mentioning the fact that when we met he told me that he didnt like messing with females his age because they're all about games and I was just curious about why he would say that considering that's what he's doing. I get out of the car and ring the doorbell again, I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was in the shower when I rang the doorbell earlier.....still no response. I call his house number without blocking my number and surprise surprise, it went to the voicemail. So i stuck the letter under the windshield wiper and just rode around for a while. I am at work now, I got here really early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even lie and say that my feelings aren't hurt, I'm just trying to figure out what happened. Like I told my friend, it's not like we went out after having like 2 phone conversations and we ended the night with an "I'll call you..." We talked on the phone for months before we went out. We had a good time, at least I thought so. He went as far as to tell me that he wanted to go slow with me, invited me to church, even spoke highly of me to friends and family and kept telling them and me that we were going to get along really well together. What the fuck man?? I'm just blown like shit right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep hoping that he'll call me, but he probably won't. I know that I didn't help anything by coming to his house unannounced, but c'est la vie. I had a dream last night that he called me today and apologized for not keeping in touch. Ha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112836800920476238?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112836800920476238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112836800920476238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112836800920476238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112836800920476238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/10/crazy-much.html' title='Crazy Much??'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112794090262145808</id><published>2005-09-28T15:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T15:55:02.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Matt's Formal Introduction</title><content type='html'>This is the background on Matt. He and I met a couple of months ago through an ex coworker of mine. Well, we didn't actually meet. We spoke on the phone a few times and about 2 weeks after we began conversing, I was calling him whenever I had a free moment and he was doing the same. Last month I'd used up over 900 anytime minutes and I can only imagine what my night and weekend minutes looked like. We sent each other pictures all of the time and even though we talked all day, we never ran out of things to say to one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lived in Alabama until about a week ago and could not wait to come home. I was excited about finally meeting him and he was about meeting me.  He got home on Friday and even called me as soon as he entered the state. We were not supposed to hook up until Saturday but he asked me to meet him on Friday and I was fine with that. It was my first time driving on the expressway but I wanted to meet him so badly, so I agreed. I even got lost and drove around for about an hour directionless, but I wasn't even upset, I was just so happy to be finally meeting this man...this younger man. I don't even talk to guys younger than me (it's only 2 yrs but still) but I didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we met and it was cool. I got the impression that I looked a lot better than he'd envisioned that I would. He didn't look like what I thought, but it wasn't a bad difference, it was just &lt;em&gt;different&lt;/em&gt;. So we watched movies on his couch and then went to his room to sleep. He didn't even touch me, just rubbed my leg a little bit and told me that I'd lied when I told him that I didn't have a booty. I got up early the next morning and went to work. We talked about what we were going to do after I got off work ( i was leaving early that day so that I could spend it with him).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday afternoon we went out to eat, drank a little, and smoked some. When I left everything was cool, I didn't hug him bye because I was drunk, high, had to pee, and more than a little horny. We'd already established that it would be a while before we had sex, both of us wanted to wait a bit, which was really good. Once I got home I texted him to let him know that I'd made it home safely. I never got a response, but didn't think anything of it. He was supposed to go out with his friends to some strip club. The next day was the Falcons game so I knew I wouldnt hear from him until maybe that night. He was supposed to start 1 of 2 or 3 jobs on Monday morn. I sent a few texts to his phone but never got a response. I still didn't think anything of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday comes and I try calling and leave about 2 messages on his voicemail. On one I said he could at least send me a smoke signal so that I'll know that he is at least still alive. No response. I call all day on tuesday and say that I won't call him anymore. I start to think later on that day that maybe something happened to him and that's why he hadn't called. I mean..we'd had such a good time, at least I thought so.  I call him around 12 and the voicemail is the standard voicemail, not even his voice, like maybe his phone was off so I didn't trip. This morning however, I call it again and he's changed his message somewhat. So now I know that nothing has happened to him..but I'm wondering why the fuck this nigga is avoiding me and it has really upset me. I erased his number, I'm impulsive like that, and erased all of my messages, text and picture, from my phone. I keep trying not to call him again, but I am so tempted. I just want to know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of went out on a limb for him and this serves me right I guess. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can't even stop myself. I'm about to call his phone now, blocked number of course, I'm sure that he won't answer, but at least I can get it out of my system.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112794090262145808?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112794090262145808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112794090262145808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112794090262145808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112794090262145808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/09/matts-formal-introduction.html' title='Matt&apos;s Formal Introduction'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112793974137957700</id><published>2005-09-28T15:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T15:35:41.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm here</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;I don't know where to start. I guess I will just start with the present and work my way backwards at a later time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm really &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;REALLY&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; upset with this Matt situation.  So whats up with not returning ANY of my calls?! I'm blown. May as well just that I'm done with that and move on. The only problem is..what/who am I moving on to? I really did like him. C'est la vie. Pop is so damn adorable, but that can't go anywhere. Haha I know for a fact that he is a cheater, he actually had told me that he felt bad about it, which may be true, I often felt bad a little while after, but I was/am very drawn to him, maybe he feels the same way.  He goes out of his way to speak to me ALL of the time. I like it. Wish we could go out on a real date. Won't happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Gene cried yesterday because he felt that he fucked up. Don't know if he meant because of the no trust or because he didn't find a job. I wonder if Pop does in fact like me more than as a FB. I &lt;u&gt;know&lt;/u&gt; I can't be with Gene, no matter how bad I want for us to be together, unless he works and gets his shit together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Does all of this mean that Matt liked me until he saw me? Why invite me to Mass then!? I swear I need to go ahead and lose 100 lbs. Being fat sure isn't helping shit for sure. So glad that I didn't buy him what he really wanted for his birthday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;*Edit* So now I'm being told to leave Pop alone because he kept calling that girl Michelle while she was at lunch. All I know is that I just looked at his phone and saw quite a few missed calls from her. He had JUST told me that her and Chicken were talking about me and that it was speculated that no matter what we say, something is going on between us.  He'd just told me that anything that I hear about him is absolutely not true and really, he has no reason to lie to me, we aren't doing more than fucking at this point, BUT...I also know that people don't need a reason to lie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112793974137957700?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112793974137957700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112793974137957700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112793974137957700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112793974137957700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-here.html' title='I&apos;m here'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112365035753759166</id><published>2005-08-10T00:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T00:05:57.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch Up</title><content type='html'>I haven't typed in forever and now I don't really know where to start. I'm going to just start and wherever I end, I'll pick up whenever I get a chance to get on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and fiance are pretty much over. Not that we're over right now, but I can feel it coming. I KNOW it's coming soon, more than likely sometime around September 2, when I finally get my license. He will probably find a way to stay at his moms house and to not drive home with me. Cool. Whatever. That nigga has issues like shit anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel bad because I am already tired, so I will have to come back hopefully tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112365035753759166?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112365035753759166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112365035753759166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112365035753759166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112365035753759166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/08/catch-up.html' title='Catch Up'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-112251949155773051</id><published>2005-07-27T21:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T21:58:11.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>weight loss goals...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.TickerFactory.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://tickers.TickerFactory.com/ezt/d/3;10731;124;0;0/c/-23/t/-100/k/d6d4/weight.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-112251949155773051?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/112251949155773051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=112251949155773051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112251949155773051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/112251949155773051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/07/weight-loss-goals.html' title='weight loss goals...'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-111376516868863557</id><published>2005-04-17T14:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-17T14:12:48.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Couple of quotes</title><content type='html'>If Jesus died for my sins, and we don't sin.. he died for nothing.. Therefore I sin. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Only in America, is it mandated to have car insurance... but optional to have health insurance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-111376516868863557?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/111376516868863557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=111376516868863557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111376516868863557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111376516868863557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/04/couple-of-quotes.html' title='Couple of quotes'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-111213491012471466</id><published>2005-03-29T17:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T17:21:50.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Hangin Partna</title><content type='html'>Last night I talked to a casual internet associate of mine. It was a nice talk, we said we were gonna go out soon, more than likely it'll be right before my birthday. I like talking to her so much because she isnt' judgemental. She and I can talk for hours. Last night she told me that I was the closest thing she has to a best friend and that made me smile. I am always looking for new female friends, they're really hard for me to come by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-111213491012471466?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/111213491012471466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=111213491012471466' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111213491012471466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111213491012471466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/03/new-hangin-partna.html' title='A New Hangin Partna'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-111154056899913588</id><published>2005-03-22T19:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T20:16:09.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>weekend update (it's so late)</title><content type='html'>Okay, I need to get better about updating my site on a regular basis. I just havent slept or done any work in a few days. Friday went okay despite the fact that I'd had a horrible evening before and lacked sleep. Anyway, best friend called the clinic to see if she could come in on Friday. She explained that she had taken 4 different pregnancy tests and only one said that she was pregnant, the rest said error, so the nurse on the phone said that she may have had a miscarriage, but best friend didn't have any miscarriage symptoms, so that was that. Her and her guy didn't talk at all that day, I called him to make sure everything was okay, and that was that.  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Saturday I got my hair braided, I'll probably take a pic tomorrow or something, after I get some sleep. On Sunday, best friend called around 8 and said we needed to go to the hospital because she was having really bad back pains, and we're at the hospital for 5 hours. She had a miscarriage... she's still reeling from that, as am I. I know it must be hard. I cried long and hard about it when I got home, I had to be strong in front of her. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Yesterday she drove down to see her guy so that she could tell him what happened. He took it a lot better than she thought he would. It's gonna take a while to get over all of this though, I know.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I had a job interview yesterday at a car dealership, to be an executive assitant, part-time until summer comes. I was mad because I was there for about 3 hours; I had to take an IQ test and some other crap. Its cool though because I was told that when I left there @ 5:00 that I was leading the pack and that I would hear something Wednesday. *crossing fingers* I really really need the money. My sister said I can borrow until I find something, which is soooo nice of her. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;That's my update for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-111154056899913588?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/111154056899913588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=111154056899913588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111154056899913588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111154056899913588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/03/weekend-update-its-so-late.html' title='weekend update (it&apos;s so late)'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-111115669079433863</id><published>2005-03-18T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T09:38:10.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm</title><content type='html'>Yesterdays post was about the bad day everyone I know was having. My fiance and I had a long screaming match that ended with me calling my dad to come get me and and then calling him back to tell him to go back home and that I'll be fine. It was nice of him to leave the house at 1 in the morning..even though he complained the entire time. Enough about us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend is pregnant. She is stressing because this will be her 2nd child, 2nd baby daddy. She did not finish college, she had 1 year left for her major classes, and 2 minor classes left. She stopped going in 2002 right before she found out she was pregnant. She is doing "okay" just taking care of herself and her 2 y/o daughter, but she feels she cannot handle another child right now. Then the guy is acting stupid...which never ever helps. Im just waiting to see what she's gonna do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not sleep at all last night and the night before, I only slept about 3 hours. I'm tired...but I cant really sleep. I just have so much effin information spinning through my head right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-111115669079433863?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/111115669079433863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=111115669079433863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111115669079433863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111115669079433863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/03/hmm.html' title='Hmm'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-111115618007818169</id><published>2005-03-17T09:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T09:29:40.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blown..</title><content type='html'>If you had asked me yesterday what I for today, I would have answered, "a new day, full of hope." If you were to ask me today how hope is doing, I would have replied, " ask me another day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can wake up and everything can seem close to being perfect, save for quality time that was not spent, and think that today is the day that everything will fall into place. You silently make your plans as you slowly rise to begin that beautiful thing....today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate today. As the day wound down, love did not seem so real.  Things banished from your thoughts began to resurface.  People make you realize that your idea of them is most certainly unreal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the world became imperfect, and all you can do is cry.  There is no one to run to because today, for your friends, is flawed too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-111115618007818169?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/111115618007818169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=111115618007818169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111115618007818169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/111115618007818169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/03/blown.html' title='Blown..'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110894091443595940</id><published>2005-02-20T17:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T18:08:34.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gosh</title><content type='html'>I hate leaving my blog neglected for so long. I'm sorry &lt;a href="http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com"&gt;http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;. *sad face*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been busy, not going to school, but working out. That's my new obsession. My birthday is coming up in a couple of months and I have vowed to lose 20 more lbs by my birthday. Oh it's gonna happen, I've lost 14 lbs since the 2nd week of the year. I'm on a roll mayne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes are...classes. They're fine. I just get tired, this is my first time taking 18 credit hours since I was ummm 18? It's tiring, but I will survive! lol I don't even go to my classes like I'm supposed to, I only actually made it to school on Wednesday, the other 3 days I was slackin like shit. I did my homework and reading, I just didnt feel like sitting in the classroom, pretending to pay attention, when in reality, I'm reading blogs or playing a game. So I stayed home in my drawers and did the same thing on my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a vacation, but I really don't know where I want to go. Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110894091443595940?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110894091443595940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110894091443595940' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110894091443595940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110894091443595940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/02/gosh.html' title='Gosh'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110842277415162107</id><published>2005-02-14T18:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T18:12:54.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love &amp; Life</title><content type='html'>So Nas's baby mama is going to have a book out soon. A lot of people are upset about this. I don't understand why....it's the American way to capitalize off of your life story. Plus, it's not like she came out of nowhere, Jay and Nas put her name out there. So &lt;a href="http://www.sexdrugsandhiphop.com/qanda.htm"&gt; Carmen Bryan&lt;/a&gt; has a book. Go look at her webpage, she even has pictures of herself on there. I didn't think she would look as average as she does. Usually I don't play into these kinds of stories, but I kind of want to read her book. *shrug* shoot me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Valentine's Day. Yaaaaaaay. I hope everyone has had a wonderful day. Fiance did a little something for me, so that's good. As soon as he gets home from school he's cooking dinner. Guess I should go freshen up. *smile*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110842277415162107?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110842277415162107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110842277415162107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110842277415162107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110842277415162107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/02/love-life.html' title='Love &amp; Life'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110824577141338291</id><published>2005-02-12T16:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T17:02:51.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I should stop chatting?</title><content type='html'>I was in an AOL chat room today and for the most part, the ladies in the room ranged in age from 19-21, with a few older and a few younger. Anyway, a 22 y/o female asked the room if they thought something was wrong with her talking to a 19 y/o. Immediately the females said it was wrong, but if she were a guy, then it would be okay. Then the conversation moved to "dirty old men." A young lady said that when she was 19, she dated a 33 year old man. The girls (the 19-21 year olds) immediately said that he was dirty and they would never do it. They started going on about how men in their mid 30s had wrinkled balls and whatnot. Okay... &lt;b&gt;WTF!?!?!&lt;/b&gt; The hell kind of decrepit 35 year olds they know? Someone said it's like talking to your parents. &lt;b&gt;HUH???&lt;/b&gt; It's not even that I'm condoning relationships with men 10+ years older than their partner, but damn, these little girls can't really say what they'd do. Shit happens. A couple of years ago I fell in love with a 34 year old man, and I used to sound exactly like those young women did. I thought I'd never date anyone more than a couple of years older than me because I always thought that we would be in 2 entirely different mindsets.  And we were. But it wasnt a bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the young women that I knew were busy concerning themselves with going to the club every free night of the week and partying in general. I was never a fan of that, well that's not entirely true, but once I completed my freshman year of college, I kind of outgrew it. I began to frequent museums, galleries, and such, and that's where I met my 34 y/o.  Of course we were at different points in our lives, but so what? He wasn't so far removed from my experiences, I dont' think, but I also know that I have a mature mind. I always have. (damn I hate writing, it is definitely not one of my strong points) The relationship went well, we just outgrew each other. Anyway, the whole point of this point is to never say never and just because something doesn't work out for you, doesn't mean it can't work for others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110824577141338291?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110824577141338291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110824577141338291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110824577141338291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110824577141338291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/02/maybe-i-should-stop-chatting.html' title='Maybe I should stop chatting?'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110782036206500207</id><published>2005-02-07T18:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T18:52:42.066-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Do I Go About This?</title><content type='html'>This past summer, sometime around the 4th, I invited my fiance's sister to move in with us. Along with her would be her bf and her 4 year old son. Their hometown is 5 hours away and she was trying to break away from there, because it is a little country place where people can't really grow. Culturally or intellectually. This I could understand because for that same reason is why my mother left home and never looked back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they took up residence in our home, but right now we're going to call it my home because...well I'll explain why at another time. (btw, the new house is also "mine" lol). Long story short, they did not move out until October. So I guess it was 3.5 months they were there. Of course it seemed like I was footing all of the bills, because I virtually was. Every week it was something with them, and I never complained because Tammie, his sister, said that once she got her income tax refund, she would give me a little something for being so understanding during their time of financial stress. That's something I'm no stranger to, so yeah, I understood. I bought all of the groceries, and let me add, none of them has a small appetite, food that would take 2 weeks to be consumed by my fiance and I were finished 2 days later. NOT a slight exaggeration.  I had a good job, so I could spend the 200 every week and a half. They paid &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;NO&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; rent, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;NO&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; utilities, and gave me $120 towards groceries the entire time they were staying with me. I could not understand how they had no money, considering they paid no bills with me. Granted they were coming from the projects (where sometimes even well-meaning people end up) so they were used to only paying $22/month for rent, but they had to pay for their phone, water, gas, and electric. And yea, they both had jobs before they left. I figured they were saving up for a security deposit or something, but they only applied at apartments with no security deposit. Fiance and I often had long discussions amongst ourselves trying to figure out where their money was going. I usually treated to go to the movies and such as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to today. Fiance went to their house while I was at school to visit his little sister, who is also living there to watch Tammy's son. He calls me as soon as he leaves there and tells me that their house doesnt even look the same. There is new shit everywhere, in all of the rooms. They have too much food, some of it is sitting in plastic bins until room is made for it in the cabinets. They even got the little sister a cell phone. So then he asks me has Tammy said anything about the money she promised me. lol .....of course she hasn't. But I have never been one able to just call someone on their word. I always loan money out, and I have never had to ask for it back, except once, but that was $10. I have no idea how much she was planning on giving me, but I know she owes me something. Now... I guess I need to just call her over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not looking forward to this. If she tells me she is broke...I can see myself semi-going off on her. I mean dang, I just moved, I would like some extra money to get some new stuff in my living room at least. Hell, just give me $20, at least I'll know I wasn't forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110782036206500207?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110782036206500207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110782036206500207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110782036206500207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110782036206500207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/02/how-do-i-go-about-this.html' title='How Do I Go About This?'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110772289222853630</id><published>2005-02-06T15:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T15:48:12.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I realize that I have not updated in a bit. There isn't too much going on. I'm cleaning lol and just trying to get this house together. I hate that it's taking me a month to unpack, but the last place I lived, it took me almost 6 months. Now THAT'S a damn shame. Not to say this month wasn't too, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had gotten the chance to clean the car. For some reason I can only clean during the day, it's weird. My fiance has the car all day, plus I'm in school all day anyway. It really is my damn job. I'm there from 9-7 almost all day. Crying shame. I need to study, I have an exam in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110772289222853630?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110772289222853630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110772289222853630' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110772289222853630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110772289222853630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-realize-that-i-have-not-updated-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110740822617677950</id><published>2005-02-03T01:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T00:23:46.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We Need to Work on this</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Study: Southern Blacks Die at Higher Rate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; By MARILYNN MARCHIONE, AP Medical Writer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEW ORLEANS - Blacks in the South apparently get a double whammy of stroke risk: They die at much higher rates than either Southern whites or blacks who live elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Researchers have long known that stroke deaths are greater among blacks and people in the "Stroke Belt" across the eastern part of the nation's midsection. But they thought the combined risk posed by race and geography was small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Much to our surprise, the finding is: No, it's not," said George Howard, a biostatistician who presented his research Wednesday at an American Stroke Association conference in New Orleans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rate of stroke deaths among black men in the South was 51 percent higher than it was among blacks in other parts of the country. And black men in the South had roughly four times the risk of dying of a stroke as white men living outside the South.&lt;br /&gt;"That's a pretty big difference," Howard said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Howard, chairman at the University of Alabama at Birmingham School of Public Health, compared stroke deaths in 10 Southern states to those in 11 non-Southern states with large enough black populations to make comparisons possible, including California, Texas and New York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He used information from the National Center for Health Statistics from 1997 through 2001, and adjusted it to take into account how many blacks and whites live in each state.&lt;br /&gt;Among white men ages 55 to 64 living in the South, the stroke death rate was 49 deaths per 100,000 people — 29 percent higher than the rate among white men living elsewhere. Among black men in the South, the rate was 159 deaths per 100,000 people, compared with 105 for black men living elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trends were similar among women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leading theories for the racial and geographic differences are that Southerners are more likely to smoke, be overweight, have high blood pressure, and be in poor general health. Lack of good medical care also may be involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Some of those Stroke Belt states are some of the poorest in the country," said Dr. Joseph Broderick, chairman of neurology at the University of Cincinnati School of Medicine.&lt;br /&gt;As for whether moving from the South would help, that is not clear at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was brought up in what's called the buckle of the Stroke Belt," and then moved to Alabama, Howard said. "Did I bring the risk with me or did I leave it in eastern North Carolina?"&lt;br /&gt;The National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke funded his study and another presented at the conference which found that whites were twice as likely as blacks to have "prehypertension," a new category the government set last year for mildly elevated blood pressure — a reading of 120 to 139 over 80 to 89.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But blacks with prehypertension were far more likely to suffer strokes or heart disease as a consequence, the study of more than 80,000 around the country found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The population should be aware of this category and know that this is a new risk," said Daniel Lackland, an epidemiologist at Medical University of South Carolina in Charleston.&lt;br /&gt;Blood pressure drugs are not recommended for prehypertension unless people have diabetes or other conditions. Instead, doctors urge people to watch their diets and salt intake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other studies at the conference hinted that genetic differences may play a role in higher stroke risks for blacks. Three separate teams found that stroke victims were more likely to have variations in a potential "stroke gene" recently identified in Iceland. One of the teams found that such variations were more common in blacks than in whites.&lt;br /&gt;___&lt;br /&gt;On the Net:&lt;br /&gt;www.strokeassociation.org&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110740822617677950?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110740822617677950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110740822617677950' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110740822617677950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110740822617677950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/02/we-need-to-work-on-this.html' title='We Need to Work on this'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110685105942669733</id><published>2005-01-27T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T13:55:53.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mess</title><content type='html'>Ever feel as if your residence &lt;em&gt;slightly&lt;/em&gt; resembles a pig sty? I do sometimes, I moved about 2 weeks ago and I havent put up a lot of stuff. In fact..I step over clothes constantly just to manuever around the place. Damn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;img src="http://members.aol.com/not4themasses/room" /&gt;. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot mess huh? I should be ashamed...but I'm not, that's why I could post that pic freely. It'll look better by Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110685105942669733?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110685105942669733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110685105942669733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110685105942669733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110685105942669733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/01/mess.html' title='A Mess'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110684278491813066</id><published>2005-01-27T08:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T11:20:39.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dern</title><content type='html'>It's so messed up, my fiance's grandmother passed away. I was so thrown. I dont feel that I helped him deal with it effictively because I was still in mourning myself. I will be there for him though. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We're driving down tomorrow night. We are staying until Sunday and then will go back whenever the funeral is, unless it is on Tuesday. If it is on Tuesday, I will not be attending. I have school and work obligations that I dont think I can get out of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110684278491813066?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110684278491813066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110684278491813066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110684278491813066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110684278491813066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/01/dern.html' title='Dern'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110675598619636331</id><published>2005-01-26T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T18:59:04.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate January</title><content type='html'>I hate January. Honestly, I do. I look forward to February 1st like it's Christmas/my birthday/graduation day all in one. It's a month full of bad memories and has been for at least the past 3 years. This entry will probably be depressing, but I think I need to vent a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A child I lost was due on Janary 1, 2002.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My deceased daughter was born in January 2003. That was a hard pregnancy and an even harder birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother passed away on January 26, 2002. Every year I think this will be the year that the memory of her doesnt debilitate my everyday life and even this year, I was wrong once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took off from doing coursework today. I really just want to go to sleep. I can't though, I just feel too sick.&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/10373353-110675598619636331?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110675598619636331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110675598619636331' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110675598619636331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110675598619636331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-hate-january.html' title='I Hate January'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373353.post-110660056640707150</id><published>2005-01-24T16:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T16:05:01.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Introductions May be in Order</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#006600;"&gt;I&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; think I'll begin this with an introduction. I'm Jurnee. Born and bred in Atl. I like and perform well in a lot of things. I'm extremely artistic, in fact, one of my minors was Sculpture. I graduated from Howard University in Spring 2002. I returned to Georgia in 2003 and I dont think I will leave here anytime soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I read blogs on an almost daily basis and have finally decided to venture into publishing my own. Not that I'm interesting, but this one-sided relationship hasn't been very fair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I plan on procuring a blogroll, or whatever u call it and if you see your name, it simply means that I am a fan and have been for some time, even if I havent commented on your site before. Now that I'm being somewhat more public, I plan on doing so.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373353-110660056640707150?l=blackertheberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/feeds/110660056640707150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373353&amp;postID=110660056640707150' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110660056640707150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373353/posts/default/110660056640707150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackertheberry.blogspot.com/2005/01/introductions-may-be-in-order.html' title='Introductions May be in Order'/><author><name>Jurnee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07630374980765208969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/jurnee52/avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
