<?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-7766092051918666051</id><updated>2011-12-20T10:37:48.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a New Day</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-5931604135080317300</id><published>2011-12-20T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T10:28:42.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduate?</title><content type='html'>I am sitting on my couch right now.. watching What Not To Wear. So... is this what I get after getting my BA in Whittier College? I have not received my diploma in the mail yet. Since my school is very disorganized, I expect that I will have to call to remind them to send me my diploma or some sort of dilemma will take place. If you dont know..... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I majored in Art...... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is she going to do with THAT? I wonder that too. I try to explain to people that I went to a Liberal Arts College and that I did take other courses besides art.... such as...Anthropology, Philosophy, Physics, Biology, Math, English and Literature, and other blah blah snoozes....The point is...  I think I got a pretty good well rounded education from the small itty bitty the size of my pinky, school. So, where is my job?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HUH Whittier College?????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, right now, I am watching a show really about people who have life issues and take it out on their appearance; The words of wisdom from Stacy and Clinton is therapeutic for me right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Simone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-5931604135080317300?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/5931604135080317300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2011/12/graduate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/5931604135080317300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/5931604135080317300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2011/12/graduate.html' title='Graduate?'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-658968577183327726</id><published>2010-04-28T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T09:04:01.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Purple</title><content type='html'>I am 4 years old today! well not really really, I am actually 20 years old, but the point is, I am 4 years off of my hellish Leukemia cancer treatment! I had my last chemotherapy treatment 4 years ago. That day my dear amazing close friends, Sarah, Josh, and Megan held my hand and rubbed my back as they witnessed me being poked and prawed at getting my last liqued chemotherapy. I remember though that was actually one of the more painful ones, because it took so long to find a vein (and by after 2 and a half years of going through 67 liqued chemotherapy treatments I was kind of tired of it.... but with the support of my friends Mommy and Daddy, I was able to get through it. I would like to say thank you, so all of my friends that helped me go through my cancer treatment. I dont want to write a list of names because I dont want to leave anyone out, you know who you are who was there during my treatment, and or visited me at the hospital. Sarah, Josh and Megan, words can not describe how lucky I am that you are in my life, I love you!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, only one more year till I am "cured" yes, I am in remission, but almost every type of cancer and it is even heavier on Leukemia and other childhood cancers, to say one is cured after 5 years off of cancer treatment. Because there is still a chance of... well I dont want to mention it, you know what the word is. Anywho, so just one more year, and I will be getting, yes, another tattoo to mark the singnificant day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mama, Daddy, and Moriah (my younger sister) was my arms, legs, and life during my cancer treatment, and I know I will never be able to give back to them as much as they did for me. Words can not describe the love I have for my family. Including the support of my amazing Cousins, James, Aaron, and Veronica (who are like my siblings then cousins) My Aunt and Uncle and Grandma! I am so very lucky to be surrounded by so much love then and still to this date. To add after my cancer treatment, I have Mark in my life, who has supported me since the start (we started dating only 10 months after I finished my treatment) of my life after cancer, our love for each other has strengthened me as a person, even after what I went through, and Mark helps me learn what "normal" is. "normal" is what I am still stuggling on, what is normal? I think I will never find out, but I know I am getting there, or I wont. Thank you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am healthy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lady B&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-658968577183327726?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/658968577183327726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/04/purple.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/658968577183327726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/658968577183327726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/04/purple.html' title='Purple'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-1724604126941360699</id><published>2010-04-12T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T20:53:19.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>squares</title><content type='html'>Oh goodness, its been almost a month! well, I have only the regular excuses.. such as... being very busy. Well that is no excuse!!! So, I would like to tell you about Mall of America. Yes the one in Minnesota, yes my mom and I flew out there to see Mall of America. We are only doing it once, and here we have the opportunity, knowing that in two years from now, I will have a job and will not have free time till, who knows when.  But yea, we went to Mall of America. I would like to some it up in four sentences: 1. there is a roller coaster in the middle of the mall 2. no sales tax, but all of the shops can be found at home 3. pregnant teenagers who are married and already have a child at home (usually of the ages of 18,19,20) (its true, I have personally asked some of the pregnant teenagers some questions and their age rolled through the conversations). 4. very nice people but, quite religious. But, I had a lot of fun, My mom and I stayed in St. Paul, it is a very quite little city, with cute old buildings, a beautiful science museum, and like what I said very nice people.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywho, I have a pretty busy week ahead of me, I am already stressing out on my classes for the next two years of my college career! I really need to just calm down for once, and take a deep breath. How come so many people have no problem with doing things last minute? I can barely handle being a few days done from the due date. What should I do to be like most people my age? I think WAY to much, I "think" that is what the problem is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lady B&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-1724604126941360699?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/1724604126941360699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/04/squares.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/1724604126941360699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/1724604126941360699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/04/squares.html' title='squares'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-7836967910246216836</id><published>2010-03-15T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T22:52:55.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>polka dots and stars</title><content type='html'>Walking up to a legendary Disney Imaginear, I look at my mom and look at him, then I shake his hand and smile. He smiles back, and looks at my mom. They exchange their love for the Mr. Toads wild ride, and he suggests a restraunt Walt Disney himself would eat at once a week. I am happy to say that I have been able to shake hands with two imaginears, and tinker bell herself (yes the Margaret Kerry) and an amazing artist, that sometimes works for Disn&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: small;"&gt;ey &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Terry Hardin. Terry was very nice to me, and I got to have an artist to artist talk with her. On top of meeting these amazing artists, I got to experience eye candy that is barely even capable for most Disney lovers, Cinderella's Carriage, I will admit, that I almost wanted to tear up a bit, it was so beautiful, this amazing magical sparkle to it, even though it was night out. The magnificence of the gorgeous trance one would experience is memorizing. I wanted to touch it, but I didnt, cause I didnt want the Disney Police to pop out of the ground, like what they usually do. After that amazing trance I experienced, and may I add that my mama and I got to take a picture infront of the magnificent carriage. Also, of course we got to ride Alice in Wonderland ride. Oh, may I add another thing... I got to see Alice in Wonderland in the El Capitan, AMAZING! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;Hollywood+Alice in Wonderland= Madness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;I love Disneyland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"&gt;Lady-B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/7766092051918666051-7836967910246216836?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/7836967910246216836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/polka-dots-and-stars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/7836967910246216836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/7836967910246216836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/polka-dots-and-stars.html' title='polka dots and stars'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-1130173544038649966</id><published>2010-03-08T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T21:21:04.411-08:00</updated><title type='text'>girl scout cookies</title><content type='html'>Oh goodness, Astronomy, is really hard! well, really I am kind of taking cosmology then astronomy. It is so intense, I mean the math part is easy, it is just understanding it, to be able to comprehend it. Anywho, today, I woke up at 4:45 a.m. simply because I wanted to spend another night with my love. Also, I wanted to watch the Academy Awards with him, we ate cookies that I made ( baking is one of my favorite hobbies, that I sadly only do when I am at his apartment or at home ) and watched the 82nd awards. I did though miss the parts on the red carpet, I really wanted to see that, I love dresses and fashion, I noticed the dresses I did see on the awards, that nude colors are in, and corset like top part of the dresses. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love watching the Academy Awards, My mom and I would watch it every year and have yummy snaky foods. Sadly, I am a big girl now, it is kind of hard to simple fly home for the academy awards. Hopefully when I am done with my college career my mama and I can watch the Academy Awards again with our snaky foods, and make comments about every detail. Also, every year, I usually only have watched about 5 of the movies that are up for academy awards, and guess what.... they are all the runner up for Best Animation Film. Yes, Disney and pixar, maybe if I am lucky, I have watched one of the intense films. Just, they are always either so depressing (Precious) or gross (inglorious Bastards) But I did see Avatar, AMAZING! And Everyone is pushing me to see inglorious bastards, I will watch it I will, but maybe not now. I know there are people out there like me, I am just sensitive about everything I visually see, and movies are like a graveyard for images to be engraved into my brain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and as for girl scout cookies, hmmm... my favorite are the thin mints and the tagalongs. mmmmmmm giirrlll scccouut coooookkkiiieeesss!!!! Enjoy them while they are here!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lady B&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-1130173544038649966?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/1130173544038649966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/girl-scout-cookies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/1130173544038649966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/1130173544038649966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/girl-scout-cookies.html' title='girl scout cookies'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-5196323554555166360</id><published>2010-03-04T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T11:10:37.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dot</title><content type='html'>This weekend I get to See him. I get to see the love of my life today. I miss him very much. 3 years and 18 days together. This weekend, we are going to spend it being with eachother. For the past couple of weeks, my love gave me a book, a book of just love letters. Every day I have read a couple of love letters. Some are letters about couples who are long distant, married, passing note in class, asking out, breaking up, answers to questions, and much more. Everyone, had one thing in common, love for the person they were righting to. I am very emotional, so teared on a couple, the ones that were the strongest emotionally, were the ones in the early or mid 20th century. Of course the ones that are most reasant are text ones, and e-mails. It just really touched me to see, fancy cursive writing on a paper that is over 40 years old. Also, it kind of makes me feel silly, because some of the old love letters were college kids, and oh boy, their vocabulary usage is way different then what it is now. Like "darling" vs. "boo" for an example. One of my favorite letters is a phrase that my love has been telling me since the first months of our relationship. The letter is a picture of a cake and written on it, it says: "I love you like a fat kid loves cake" It is more the more humorous ones, but, it has a lot of meaning to me. There are other ones that are my favorite. But I think those letters are best kept in that book. I dare you today, to write a love letter.....&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lady B&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-5196323554555166360?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/5196323554555166360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/dot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/5196323554555166360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/5196323554555166360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/dot.html' title='Dot'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-7078373097568754699</id><published>2010-03-02T07:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T07:38:47.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'>spike</title><content type='html'>She got it wrong, the wrong person to send the message. When one tries to send a message, any message of kind. It can be a message through e-mail, text, or hinting. Make sure you do it to the right person. I do not believe in texting/e-mailing/or hinting that does not need to be said or "hinted." The only thing that it creates is, hurtful feelings, and for some reason, people are still into that. Personally, I just want people to trust and to be able to talk to. For some reason, people are drawn to the wrong people, and messages, not realizing their true believers, are just right in front of them. To be able to be an independent person, is to be able to have your own messages, to your self, and not to share to unnecessary energy. An independent person, is a mature person, who understands the reality's of hard life, but that still doesnt mean, a mature person has a immature factor. The mature person, needs to be independent to reach that full quality of being YOURSELF, and believing and knowing YOU!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-7078373097568754699?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/7078373097568754699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/spike.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/7078373097568754699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/7078373097568754699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/03/spike.html' title='spike'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-2947227195097609109</id><published>2010-02-28T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T21:10:22.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buttercream</title><content type='html'>Cupcakes, are my favorite dessert. My mom and I are cupcakes conisors. Just ask me or my mom, and we know the best Cupcake place. Hands down, the best one is Love At First Bite, Cupcakery in berkeley CA. The cake is moist and the frosting is just the right amount and perfect; basically if you are looking for an old fashioned cupcake made with love, the Love At First Bite, is the place (and excellent customer service). This weekend though, I have been looking everywhere to find a delicious cupcake place in L.A. Everyone says sprinkles, but personally, they are not good, the cake is too dry, and they are not the nicest there. I have tried many bakeries have cupcakes in LA cause they are the "new" thing. With the help of my mom and food network, I have found a cupcake place that hits the mark. But, still not my #1, but it is #2, out of the many places I have been to, that is really REALLY good! It is called: Yummy Cupcakes, in Santa Monica CA. The cupcakes are rather large and expensive, but they are very moist and delicious buttercream frosting. My favorite cupcake is the Bacon and Pancake, and my second is the red velvet with the chocolate and vanilla cream cheese frosting. I know the Bacon one sounds weird, but if you think about it, when you have breakfast, usually there is a combination of sweet and salty. Well, even though there are left over cupcakes in the fridge, I am going to have a hammentashin, happy purim! (jewish baked goods, are for another time)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lady B &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-2947227195097609109?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/2947227195097609109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/buttercream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/2947227195097609109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/2947227195097609109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/buttercream.html' title='Buttercream'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-3782985674592061678</id><published>2010-02-26T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T18:26:16.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sprinkles</title><content type='html'>Acupuncture.........I did it! I went through acupuncture for the first time today, and you know what? it was, well, pretty amazing! I have this arm, you see, well, um it wont bend all the way, it has been like this for almost four years, or more, I dont know, but I do know that it happened during my Leukemia cancer treatment. So, finally here I am, four years later, trying to create a functioning arm again. The acupunctures was so nice! One of the things that was very interesting that she had me do was, simply to stick out my tongue, so I did just that, I stuck out my tongue at her, and she said that, I am very stressed and I think a lot! Yes, I am stressed and I do think a lot. One of my homework assignments is to be more, well "happy" more carefree like the, kids my age I guess. Its hard for me though..... She also wants me to do some arm exercises. After she explained about the herbs, she poked me, several times, but it didnt hurt, it was more a sensation that is hard to explain. After I was done, well now, my arm feels like I just got a tetnes shot, but I think it is a good thing, well I hope. We shall see what happens! I look forward to being able to, well change my earings and to be able to zip up dresses with out help, isnt that sad and pathetic? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywho, when I picked up my cousin from school today, she was crying. Before picking her up I went through a series of unfortunate events, but after those, I went to a bakery and got her a black and White cookie. I walked to her school, and when I saw her, her crying, it made me want to give her all the cookies and presents possible in the world to make her feel better. When I gave her that one cookie, she was so happy and she said "it made my day." That melted my heart, so of course I wanted to go to the bakery and get her as much cookies as she wanted, but then I realized I dont think her parents would be very fond of that. Well, now I want a cookie!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sincerely,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lady B&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-3782985674592061678?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/3782985674592061678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/sprinkles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/3782985674592061678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/3782985674592061678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/sprinkles.html' title='Sprinkles'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-2242672211459934208</id><published>2010-02-25T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T11:50:48.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lollipop</title><content type='html'>What is in a name? I tell my love this almost everyday. What is in a name? It is a deep quote from Shakespeare, but at the same time the answer could be so simple. In any name, it could be just how to spell it, or who the person actually is. I tell my boyfriend this on a almost daily basis, I believe because, there are infinite answers to this question, the same for saying I love you, there are never ending reasons why I love my boyfriend and family. So, what is in a name?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-2242672211459934208?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/2242672211459934208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/lollipop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/2242672211459934208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/2242672211459934208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/lollipop.html' title='Lollipop'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7766092051918666051.post-2686388389604909246</id><published>2010-02-24T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T18:24:18.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quite</title><content type='html'>I am in the Library right now, trying to read, but obviously I am not. Anywho, I have decided to write a blog, I just got an urge to do it, so here I am writing. Today, in drawing class, we drew for 3 hours long, of boxes, yep thats right, boxes. But you know what? I found it quite therapeutic, I thought a lot, I dont know really what I was thinking about, but I did just that, thought about life. In astronomy class we are learning about the universe, and it kind of has made me a little upset, realizing how small we really are. We are nothings, really nothing at all. Then I start thinking about the billions of stars, and each one is a least as big as our sun, and they have planets, so there is not even a number to describe how many planets there are right now. The universe is so big that it is hard for the mind its self to comprehend how big it is, and quess what? it is still growing!!! My professor showed a picture of a star that blew up, and just despaired into the deep vast darkness. Ok then now back to ity bity earth, where we have wars, starvation, rape, horrible economy and so much more awful situations, I mean is it really necessary? We might blow up tomorrow! I dont get it! I believe there are planets just like us, and they are capable to communicate with one another because they range in a close galaxies, and maybe we are just a bit to far off for them to be able to communicate with us. Wow, well anywho, I should read, read and READ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7766092051918666051-2686388389604909246?l=ladynbow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/feeds/2686388389604909246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/quite.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/2686388389604909246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7766092051918666051/posts/default/2686388389604909246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladynbow.blogspot.com/2010/02/quite.html' title='Quite'/><author><name>Miss. Weinstein</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrlU08WBjk0/TvDO0um36iI/AAAAAAAAABM/xXt24bsWdbs/s220/Me%2BBAHH.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
