<?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-439895023722446253</id><updated>2011-09-21T08:42:53.476-07:00</updated><category term='Personal'/><category term='Emotions'/><category term='Foolishness'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Not My Typical Nonsense'/><category term='Responsibility'/><category term='Family'/><category term='my love'/><category term='Forgiveness'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Parenting'/><category term='Social Interaction'/><category term='Man/Woman Stuff'/><category term='Manners'/><category term='stupidity'/><category term='Sexist Bastards'/><category term='Politics'/><category term='Drive Responsibly'/><category term='Vacations'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Break Ups'/><category term='school and stuff'/><category term='Attraction'/><category term='Its Me'/><category term='Common-Damn-Sense'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Ignorance'/><category term='Education'/><category term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Declaration of My Own Opinions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-2909329435965944365</id><published>2010-12-23T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T11:25:58.729-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibility'/><title type='text'>Grinding My Gears!</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears...no this isn't like the episode of "Family Guy" where Peter goes off on these rants about what irritates me, but more of my own quirks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The major thing that can truly get me going is the emphasis of parenting roles and responsibilities. As a mother I am by nature (allegedly) suppose to be all-nurturing of my offspring incapable of being the disciplinarian when the time presents itself. And, the father is suppose to be emotionally incapable of creating a stable emotional and nurturing bond with said offspring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the only one who sees this as a problem here? Why can't each parent be equally involved in all aspects of the child's developmental process? Who the heck said, "Hey this is the status quot and dammit I like it!" A mother if need be can provide both the emotional and disciplinary elements, but a father cannot be nurturing...WTH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a certain respect I can hold for a man who has managed to maintain a sane sense of what parenting is suppose to be. A man that can be self-sufficient enough to care about the emotional state of their child's and put himself into motion into getting things done. A man that knows their has to be a checks and balances system to raise a healthy, whole-bodied child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parenting, is a dual-role is a job that's never done no matter how old the child may be. Sometimes it becomes a singular role with the loss of one parent. How must a child feel when Mommy provides all their emotional needs is no longer available and Dad never quite grasped the concept of what "compassion" is suppose to mean. Or when a child loses their father, is discipline suppose to stop at that point? Are they never to be corrected because the person who held the disciplinary torch has passed on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My whole gripe with this situation is, at any moment we can lose the parent to a child. It happens everyday. And everyday families are left with de-funct ways to cope and deal with not only their major loss and heartbreak, but the balance that once was in the household. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage my friends and family alike to share those roles. Don't let the other parent off so easily, try to learn some of their parenting techiniques. That way if you are unfortunate to lose the other parent, you can always go "Well, I did as best as I could. I seen your ... do this so I tried to follow in their footsteps."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-2909329435965944365?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/2909329435965944365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=2909329435965944365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2909329435965944365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2909329435965944365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2010/12/grinding-my-gears.html' title='Grinding My Gears!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5005994380394288841</id><published>2010-10-22T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T10:42:43.827-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Break Ups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>O.W.T.O.I.W.T.N.</title><content type='html'>We’ve all heard it before, you know the saying that has been around since time began…out with the old- in with the new. And for the longest it really didn’t have a significant meaning for me. I have managed to hoard all of my report cards, academic achievements, some toys from my childhood and my sons, pictures, friends, and whatever else I deemed to have sentimental value over the past 26 or so years. I literally didn’t want to let so many things go, but when you are forced to relinquish these things, life takes on a whole new meaning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfect example: I just got out of a 6 year relationship that quite honestly wasn't healthy in retrospect. I was hell bent on making this man the one for me when in all actuality, he wasn't. I was so determined to not be a “baby mama” and raise my child with both of his parents that I didn’t see what I was becoming. I had lost a lot of the joy and essence about myself and found myself in a truly unhappy place.  And I was truly giving my all to someone unworthy of it. So I ultimately had to make a decision about where I wanted to be in my life and I chose alone. I was sent on a whirlwind of emotions from enraged, to mad as hell, to eventually saying forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the process of all this madness and confusion I found a true friend. A man who wasn’t looking at me as some vulnerable woman who he could use at his discretion and throw me away as trash, but a man with integrity and a true respect for women. We started off as friends back in April and we’ve developed a wonderful foundation that I honestly only would have left as friendship foundation if I would have stayed in my prior relationship. He’s been my boyfriend a little over a month now. I have absolutely never been happier in my life. A friend of mine seen us together recently and she mentioned that I was absolutely glowing. She had never seen me so happy before and I have known her almost 3 years. That’s a testament to the dark space that I once occupied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about going back to my previous relationship during the break-up, but why? I wouldn’t gain anything from it. It would be the same routine and unhappiness that was there. It was my comfort zone, the only way I seen me staying close to my child more so anything or anyone less. But, I chose the new, not because it was new, not because I was in a rush to be in a new relationship, but because for once my head isn’t the leader in this matter. I followed my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have found anyone on this planet, but no one gives me the feelings that I have with him. The same respect and admiration I have for him is given in return, consistently. With him I am not afraid, confused, or let down. It is pure unadulterated happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So trust me when I say, that saying “Out with the Old- In with the New” has a meaning. I found mine and hope you all find yours too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.&lt;br /&gt;Just because you split from the father of your child, regardless of marital status, you are not a baby mama, you are the mother of a child(ren)and that is a title no one can ever take away from you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5005994380394288841?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5005994380394288841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5005994380394288841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5005994380394288841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5005994380394288841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2010/10/owtoiwtn.html' title='O.W.T.O.I.W.T.N.'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-7786310978579726769</id><published>2010-10-07T08:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T08:40:28.947-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Its Me'/><title type='text'>Where The Heck Have I Been?</title><content type='html'>Sorry, I disappeared for damn near 2 years. Quite honestly I didn't want to blog about anything, let alone share it. But, now I am back and with the support of an uber awesome boyfriend and great friends I am hopping back into the blogosphere to share my opinions again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-7786310978579726769?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/7786310978579726769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=7786310978579726769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/7786310978579726769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/7786310978579726769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2010/10/where-heck-have-i-been.html' title='Where The Heck Have I Been?'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-1280932494866137753</id><published>2008-12-23T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T11:12:14.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Business</title><content type='html'>Okay, all too often I hear people talking about their "business," people all in their "business,” and people telling their "business." But what exactly constitutes your business? Please explain that to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, if you and I do something, anything together, be it discussing sexual history or things we want to try, isn't this just as much of my business as it is yours? Or does this only apply to those in relationships? If it only applies to those in relationships is there some sacred code in place that says I shouldn’t discuss the issues of you and me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something I just don’t understand about the whole concept. Now I don’t condone just walking around telling people things that you have heard or may know just because. Some things happen in private that should only EVER be shared between the two of you. There is a certain level of understanding in that fact. However, things that affect me, affect me and I have all the right to discuss them with whom I please (in a tactful way of course, no names given). Now on one hand I could see how someone wouldn’t want anyone they don’t know that well to know anything displeasing about them. I can also see how it would make you uneasy that a stranger now has a certain disposition in the way they may or may not feel about you. I can also understand that conversations held with your significant other are held with the expectancy of complete trust and confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My big beef with the whole thing is that people are always quick to say someone is in their “business” and they already have involved someone in their business, the other person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It bewilders me when people in the public eye, especially men, cheat or do something they have no business doing then have the nerve to say the other person shouldn’t be all up in their “business.” Get a grip for one; you’re in the public eye. The only business you have is that that only involves you and only you. If you cheat on your wife and the other woman is being spiteful for whatever reason, I say tell it all girl. Then maybe some of these trifling people will keep their “business” where it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom-line is no one will ever have someone out of their “business.” Unless, you fell from the stars and knew of no one on this planet. But then again, you will be talked about because you aren’t from here, etc. Don’t get mad if everyone is all in your “business” because you could use that opportunity to educate someone on things they may or may not know. OR….. Drop off the face of the planet and after a while people will forget about you and your business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-1280932494866137753?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/1280932494866137753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=1280932494866137753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1280932494866137753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1280932494866137753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-business.html' title='My Business'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-7666568227633531877</id><published>2008-12-11T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T08:25:56.826-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drive Responsibly'/><title type='text'>In the Rain</title><content type='html'>The weather is overcast. The roads are slick with rain, oil, antifreeze and whatever else the jerk ahead of you just threw out of their window. And here you are, driving a steady pace and concentrating on the road. Then it happens...some dumb idiot drives past you doing 90mph in the rain as if it were a bright and sunny day. A funny thing happens when rain and speeding mix...its called "hydroplaning" bitch (sorry for all intensive purposes add that in there for dramatic flair). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I hate people who do this. If you really wanna raise your car insurance and ruin your car by all means do so. I mean who really wants to get somewhere safely? Jeez, there's always a couple douche bags that will pull this mess as if visibility isn't limited enough. Maybe they have some secret about driving faster in the rain that the world should be let in on, I don't know, but it irks the heck outta me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving from work today some too fast and delirious driver flies by me doing at least 100 for no freaking reason at all (about a mile or so later this arse is driving somewhat slower.,..probably spotted a cop) and changes lanes without using a signal or anything almost causing an accident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we be patient? Is there some special feeling you get knowing the trip to the ER is going to cost you and arm and a leg (sometimes literally)? I would much rather have someone drive at snails place and make it safely, than to haul ass down the road potentially endangering the lives of other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-7666568227633531877?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/7666568227633531877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=7666568227633531877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/7666568227633531877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/7666568227633531877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-rain.html' title='In the Rain'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-4721147207081956572</id><published>2008-11-04T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T17:02:27.508-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Taking Me Back</title><content type='html'>Quite some time ago I kind of lost myself. I lost hold of the things that made me happy, but now I am taking them back. And more importantly I am taking me back. I can't love someone wholeheartedly if I don't love myself the same way. Its nice to do things for people as long as you aren't taken for granted. So I am gonna start by taking back my vaninja (sounds super cool). I have been inspired by a close friend to take the journey of abstinence and have been warned all too many times that the journey will be anything but easy. It is just something that I have to be strong-willed on (learning that too. She confuses things and makes things complicated so once I shut her down I can begin to get myself all the way together.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking my heart back not from love but from everything else especially pain and disappointment. Any love previously felt isn't going away but I need to focus more on loving me. Someone once asked me "what do you like" and the question which should have been relatively easy, stumped me. How could I not know what I like? How could I just float along and presumably make others happy while ignoring myself? So I am gonna start planning myself some time for myself to find and enjoy things. Who knows maybe I will find myself a hobby that will last longer than a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am most definitely taking back my emotions especially anger. I need to heal completely and stop letting old wounds reopen. I have to let some of this anger and resentment go completely. I am just going to take me back if I want to be the woman I picture me to be. I was never healed to begin with so how is it that I expect perfect happiness in my life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-4721147207081956572?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/4721147207081956572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=4721147207081956572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/4721147207081956572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/4721147207081956572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/11/taking-me-back.html' title='Taking Me Back'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-2516158202025380836</id><published>2008-08-23T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T21:20:57.019-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Common-Damn-Sense'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><title type='text'>Guess What...You ARE NOT a Thug!</title><content type='html'>&lt;marquee behavior="scroll" scrollamount="6" direction="left" width="100%" bgcolor="transparent"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.concurringopinions.com/archives/images/PANTS2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.acs-onweb.de/hd/content/pres_c2_facts_about_gangs/Music-Dateien/Music-Dateien/image003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://simplycomplex.us/dac/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/loitering2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.danheller.com/images/Europe/Scotland/Misc/liquor-shelf-big.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_99/1164014267NREaMs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.gamespaper.com/images/gamescreens/thegetaway-blackmonday-ps2-review2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.garage-13.com/tyrepic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.shanatinglipton.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/bling.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bigoo.ws/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS NOT GANGSTA!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats with the fascination of being attempting to show they are gangsta. Newsflash, you are not. Is it really that hard to just be yourself? Everyone claims to not care what others think of them yet some go out of their way to prove themselves. WTF? I wonder if they ever walk around and ask "What do I think of myself?" Gangstas have short life spans and no 401Ks, heck they don't have insurance...who in their right mind wants that life? Its especially annoying when all of these so-called gangstas are young, hell even old black men. That is so depressing, we are constantly losing our good leaders, strong black men who are capable of doing great things but they get caught up in the bullshit and we lose them either to death or prison. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because you watch a couple movies and listen to some Tupac cds, then imitate what you and hear see does not, i repeat, DOES NOT make you gangsta. It makes you an idiot. You can't study for your classes in school but you can study to get a persona of ill repute. Are you kidding me? And when in the world did people , especially families think this kind of behavior is acceptable? There is a difference in a child with behavioral issues and a child with psychological issues is... wait no there isn't an issue, they need their ass beat period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to go back to the 60s and 70s when you didn't mess up or try any foolishness or the neighborhood would unite with their belts and commence the ultimate ass whoopin challenge with you as the guest star. Boy I tell ya back in the days when people were concerned with the well-being of others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-2516158202025380836?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/2516158202025380836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=2516158202025380836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2516158202025380836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2516158202025380836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/08/guess-whatyou-are-not-thug.html' title='Guess What...You ARE NOT a Thug!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-553561833752458140</id><published>2008-08-19T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T16:47:12.103-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my love'/><title type='text'>Relationships: When Love Isn't Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Why is it that love seems so simple when you are younger? You think that it conquers all and that with it anything is possible. It is but then you mis emotions, egos, and logic from both the man and the woman and poof there goes the relationship. So why stick around if you want something more, if you crave something more? Is it because we easily fool ourselves into believing things will change for the better and that rough patches come and go? Or is it because your both too scared to start over?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The older I get the more I understand that love isn't enough and what I really want out of a man. I want romance, passion, conversation, m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ore of the little things that show you are thinking about me. I don't want to stay in a relationship that seems to be running in place. I don't want to have to raise emotional walls again because of what you have said or done. I shouldn't have to decide if I want to share my feelings or keep them to myself because I shouldn't have to do that. I want to be sensitive, show that I have a vulnerable side, cry because I am happy or sad, but I don't have that joy. It seems like my heart went from being totally open to closing itself off again. I guess its my subconscious tell me something better change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do know is that I need some time to love on myself for a change and stop offering so much of myself without any reciprocation. Not saying that I am not being loved back, just that I can't see it. I'm tired!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.paulofierro.com/images/heartbreak.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 656px; height: 416px;" src="http://www.paulofierro.com/images/heartbreak.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-553561833752458140?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/553561833752458140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=553561833752458140' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/553561833752458140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/553561833752458140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/08/relationships-when-love-isnt-enough.html' title='Relationships: When Love Isn&apos;t Enough'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5711855469751660078</id><published>2008-08-18T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T16:28:05.884-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school and stuff'/><title type='text'>The College Experience...I Got Hosed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.law.ucdavis.edu/about/images/campus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 687px; height: 289px;" src="http://www.law.ucdavis.edu/about/images/campus.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have watched entirely too much of "A Different World" growing up because I was completely blindsided by the college experience. I found very few friendships worth maintaining beyond their expiration date because lets face it...everyone is not and will not be your friend. Now for a naturally friendly person imagine how I felt when I figured this crap out. I meet people and put my best foot forward in being there when they need me and never turning my back on them even when they deserve it. I never have an agenda when meeting someone because that is just lame and brings on bad karma. I try not to talk about people behind their backs and if I have and they ask me about it I let them know what I said. Its no secret so why lie about it? Lets just say I was displeased with a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two parts of the college life that are suppose to exist: the social life and the student life. The social life was okay at first. Fresh in college so everyone met and alleged friendships started instantly. But then shit happens and friends disappear. I swear to Beavis  that stuff is annoying. I now know why some people are loners, lol. But me being the social butterfly that I am I continue to make and lose friends like there is no tomorrow. I thought college was the place where you met and made friends for life, I made a few and I am grateful. Most of my friends are guys [chicks are spawns of everything evil, not sugar and spice like the rhyme says, most are anyways but thats another post] they rock and I love em for it. I joined every damn group on campus with the exception of like 2 and by the end of senior year I was in none, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that brings me to the student life. I took a butt load of courses that I have now deemed useless in my career...a few have been excluded but the rest were just a waste of my money. College doesn't even expose you to what the work force has to offer or at least mine didn't. I hate learning theories, teach me something thats going to make me a valuable employee and show my true potential. I studied my tail off for many things that are out dated and not even used in the workforce now. I should have taken up something useful like cheese appreciation now theres something I can use, just kidding. Oh well, hopefully Grad school will be alot better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5711855469751660078?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5711855469751660078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5711855469751660078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5711855469751660078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5711855469751660078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/08/college-experiencei-got-hosed.html' title='The College Experience...I Got Hosed!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-6709692726689206055</id><published>2008-06-22T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T18:18:07.359-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gifs.net/Animation11/Jobs_and_People/Maids_and_Cleaners/Washing_machine_3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.gifs.net/Animation11/Jobs_and_People/Maids_and_Cleaners/Washing_machine_3.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've come to the point where I need to wash my hands of a situation. I have to put it in the hands of the Lord and continue to pray for the soul of someone close to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I got a disturbing message the other day and it has haunted my memories since I heard it. So I stopped and did the only thing that came to mind...I prayed. I prayed for her soul to heal, her mind to get right, and her situation to improve. I prayed the no-good friends she had moved on so she could focus on what's best for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I came to peace with the fact that I cannot help no matter how hard I have tried. No matter how good and heart-felt the advice was given it wasn't accepted nor appreciated. I finally let go and let God and now the worries that once ran through my mind are gone. Nightmares don't and can't haunt me day and night anymore.  I gave it to God and he is the best of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my prayer is for my sister Gabrielle. I pray that she realizes that she has more potential than she gives herself credit for. I pray that she gets her education back on track and graduate. I pray that she stop doing things that are destructive to both her mind, body, and soul. I pray that she gets her priorities straight and realizes her true worth. I pray that she find prosperity in a job she loves. I pray that she finds God again and turn her back on the devil. I pray that she realizes what her family has been trying to get through to her: we really do care and love you and nothing is given to you unless you truly work for it or at least show that you are trying. I pray that she stops dealing with these losers who don't understand her worth, strength, or emotion. I pray that she gets herself together before she finds herself in a situation that is more detrimental to her than she can handle. I pray that all the anger and hatred she feels is replaced with love and patience. I pray that God changes her soul for the better and brings her closer to him so he can guide her in her decisions and gets her life on the right track.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-6709692726689206055?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/6709692726689206055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=6709692726689206055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/6709692726689206055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/6709692726689206055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/06/ive-come-to-point-where-i-need-to-wash.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5343774568766136647</id><published>2008-06-11T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T17:36:00.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Save Yourself and The Ones You Love!</title><content type='html'>The world is going straight to hell and it seems as though no one cares. Everyone only seems to care about money or how something is going to effect their money. What happened to caring for your family and friends? What happened to caring about each other? Nobody seems to care and it sucks because we are only hurting ourselves and the ones we love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't watch the news at all because the first 30-45 minutes is about how someone was killed, stabbed, injured, maimed, blown up, or otherwise harmed by violence. I guess we all need to get together and pray for the world to get right, help those who we know aren't right, and pray for mercy because we are really gonna need it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5343774568766136647?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5343774568766136647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5343774568766136647' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5343774568766136647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5343774568766136647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/06/save-yourself-and-ones-you-love.html' title='Save Yourself and The Ones You Love!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-4136077969530166926</id><published>2008-05-23T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T09:27:49.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving...Just Do It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.gifs.net/Animation11/Transportation/Cars/Car_crash_2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 104px; CURSOR: hand" height="50" alt="" src="http://www.gifs.net/Animation11/Transportation/Cars/Car_crash_2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, this morning I am driving to work and presumably almost taken off this planet by some asshole trying to drink coffee, smoke a cigarette, text, and read his newspaper (Slightly exaggerated). Needless to say I was pissed because this fuck faced bastard has the nerve to be driving a fucking pickup truck the size of Oklahoma. Okay well maybe not that big but you get the point. Why can't people just drive? Multitasking is not something you should do on the road, especially when it may involve my car insurance going up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot stand this shit. It really gets my blood boiling. My boyfriend does this shit and it irritates the hell outta me. We are driving down a 4 lane highway and someone send him a stupid text and he just has to reply. And its not the fact that he replies but his phone has the full fucking keyboard on it so he has to look down and type out whatever the hell he wants to say and its never a one word response, sometimes it a whole fucking paragraph. When people text me while driving, I send back one word responses driving ( keys 3-7-4-8-4-6-4: it have the suretype function on my phone) I can do this without even looking and could care less about what the actually text said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I have been guilty of texting and driving before. I drifted off into another lane responding to a joke someone sent me and the reply I sent back.  Almost running off the road was enough to scare my ass straighter than newly permed hair. Now I just drive with a blank stare listening to my T.I. and every now and then talk on my speakerphone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-4136077969530166926?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/4136077969530166926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=4136077969530166926' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/4136077969530166926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/4136077969530166926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/05/drivingjust-do-it.html' title='Driving...Just Do It'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-2284771308769646093</id><published>2008-05-23T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T08:42:36.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back on My A Game</title><content type='html'>Alright I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. I have some fresh new things to rant about so enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-2284771308769646093?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/2284771308769646093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=2284771308769646093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2284771308769646093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2284771308769646093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/05/back-on-my-game.html' title='Back on My A Game'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-8197717135695385900</id><published>2008-05-22T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T10:47:42.403-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not My Typical Nonsense'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forgiveness'/><title type='text'>I realized</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.vam.ac.uk/images/image/29517-large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 644px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="256" alt="" src="http://www.vam.ac.uk/images/image/29517-large.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;**&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sometimes, I wonder through the forest and wonder if every tree that stands was an issue that nature had to get around  or are the trees protecting the real beauty of the forest deep inside ~Me&lt;/span&gt;**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I talked to my dad yesterday for about 2+ hours. I think this is one of the most critical conversations I have ever had with him and it made me realize alot about myself, my emotions, my grudges, and my heart. I think I have spent the last decade of my life resenting my father and being angered by what he has has done to me emotionally and mentally. And now that he has gotten older and been through some very troublesome times he has apologized for the small amount of time he spent with me and for stopping our bond from growing all the stronger because he was too busy chasing booty around the state of Michigan. But I think the most of my hatred came from my childhood and his role in not protecting me. Even though he and my mother split up I still believe he should have been a better father and maybe I wouldn't have been molested for those 2 years by my babysitters. If he would have stepped in and came to see me more and pick me up just so we could hang out, then maybe some of the horrible things I went through wouldn't have happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now I have grown into this young woman who on the outside seems as bright as the sun. But on the inside I am plagued with turmoil, resentment, and anger because I left from being a little girl who just wanted some attention from her father to a young woman and still finding myself wanting the same thing. It angers me that for years we stayed in the same city and I only seen him on weekends and holidays.I wish he would have taken parenting more serious instead of treating it like a part time job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what I must realize is that everything happened to me for a reason. I had to learn to be strong even when I didn't want to be. I had to learn that smiling really does get rid of the pain. I had to learn that bottling up my emotions only gave me two emotions: happiness and rage. I learned to be severely overprotective of my family. And more importantly I had to learn that my father is a man full of faults just as I am a woman full of faults. He has realized his mistakes and has apologized for them. I just have to unburden my heart and actually accept that what happened did indeed happen. But everything that has happened to me in my life has made me stronger, more aware (even when others think otherwise), I have grown an ability to adapt wherever I am. I buried myself in my schoolwork, which in turn made me smarter. I pushed myself to be something more than what others wanted me to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only downfall is that it gave me a distrust in my heart for sometime. And it made my pride so damn great that I wouldn't ask for help even when I really needed it. But I have worked on some of the thing I recognize within me and have tried and prayed that they are fixed and healed. In time I think I will finally and wholeheartedly forgive my father for the pain he has caused in my life and heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-8197717135695385900?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/8197717135695385900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=8197717135695385900' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/8197717135695385900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/8197717135695385900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-realized.html' title='I realized'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-3165228407248134947</id><published>2008-05-16T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T10:13:55.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Micro-F-ing-Managers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.crystalinks.com/micromanage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.crystalinks.com/micromanage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Photo Op 1: This guys makes a regular 8 hour shift feel like for-fucking-ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FUCKING HATE MICROMANAGERS! They are the pinnacle of who shouldn't be in charge. Theses assholes walk around all damn day putting themselves in everyone else's business, giving there fucking opinion when no one wants them. They are always trying to take charge even when they don't know what the hell they are doing. I should start a business school and the first course would be designated for micromanagers where the teachers would breathe down there damn neck about any and everything and see how they like it. I have no clue where they picked up their management skills from. You either have faith in your employees or you don't. If you think your employees are incompetent, then maybe you are as well seeing as though managers have a say in who is hired and who is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, when you walk into a room and people scatter like this &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/magicwebsites/images/mouse.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 58px" height="120" alt="" src="http://www.geocities.com/magicwebsites/images/mouse.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;maybe you should take the time to evaluate yourself. Its really not that people have things to do, they just don't wanna be around you. Hmmmph, how about that an explanation as to why people run away from you? This is exactly why people work for a company for a couple years and quit to run their own companies. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It really irritates me especially when people micromanage because they want to appear more important than they are. Just because youstand with your stick top on someones shoulder does not make you any more competent than the last asshole to hold the position. Some people actually work well under these conditions and we have a word for them..."children." Thats right chlidren asshole, none of which is a term used to describe me. I am one grown ass woman, so back the hell up and give me my space so I can out-shine, out-think, and out-perform in everything I do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh well, I will have my own business in a few years and I will never hire a micromanger EVER! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-3165228407248134947?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/3165228407248134947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=3165228407248134947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/3165228407248134947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/3165228407248134947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/05/micro-f-ing-managers.html' title='Micro-F-ing-Managers!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-8638618117313401080</id><published>2008-05-08T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T06:47:42.287-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attraction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Laws of Relationships</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bplcyberkid.org/images/moon_sun.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.bplcyberkid.org/images/moon_sun.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riddle me this: Why is it that we are always attracted to what is the complete opposite of who we are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plain Answer: CUS WE ARE IDIOTS! (Just playing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why the divorce rate is so damn high now because people wanna marry the person they are not. Okay well maybe not but I happen to think that it is one of the factors no one has ever looked at. Take me and my guy for example, you are looking at two completely different ends of the spectrum. I am outgoing and he is more reserved. I love to think and plan big, he likes to keep things simple. I love to spend all my money, he believes in saving it. I mean the list could go on and on. We have very few things in common yet for some reason we have lasted for 4 years. That's a pretty long time for people to stay together without much common ground. I will say that love and family is a big factor in our relationship, and the fact that we compliment each other fairly well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think people get fascinated by learning someone who isn't like them. But what do you do when you have learned all you need to know? Do you give up on it or keep going? So I have come up with my own laws for relationships:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) If you can keep looking in their eyes and your heart tells you stay do it!&lt;br /&gt;2) If they can accept you for all your faults (IE your crooked smile and morning breath) keep them&lt;br /&gt;3)Smell the pheromones, if you don't mix with them chemically (not drugs either people) keep looking&lt;br /&gt;4) Remember looks fade so really get to know that person because their soul could be what you love about them!&lt;br /&gt;5) Work to create a common ground&lt;br /&gt;6) The woman is always right even when she is wrong!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-8638618117313401080?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/8638618117313401080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=8638618117313401080' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/8638618117313401080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/8638618117313401080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/05/laws-of-relationships.html' title='Laws of Relationships'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-4514731891793243347</id><published>2008-05-06T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T06:27:53.868-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>My Political Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://media.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2007/07/24/PH2007072400927.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://media.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2007/07/24/PH2007072400927.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wow, these two have causes quited the ruckus these past couple of months. They have made it hard for people to choose if they want to vote for the first woman President, first African American President or the war vet ( who I have deemed as Satan's brother, McCain). Now in the beginning I had not made a choice whether my vote would be for anyone. I listened as all spoke, yes even the anti-Christ McCain, but the one person that stood out the most was Barack Obama. And despite what small-minded individuals believe his race has nothing to do with my vote. Don't get me wrong, I would be proud if one day we had a minority as President but that wasn't my deciding factor. I watched how they all conducted themselves, listened to their messages, and the amount of passion they had for what they believe in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never in my life vote for Hilary Clinton, EVER! She comes off as too desperate, too arrogant, to snobby, and I really think she believes she is entitled to be the Presidential nominee because her husband did such a good job in the White House. She talks about her experience, but last time I checked Bill was the one with Presidential experience. If elected are we gonna have them as President? Her own husband said it is on the job training, so what the hell is she talking about with this experience nonsense? The one thing Hilary does have over Obama is the fact that she has more friends and connections to people in D.C. She has people who owe her favors and people she owes favors! Which ultimately is her biggest downfall, I want someone upright who isn't concerned with doing business with friends. I want someone who is doing business because they believe this is the better choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama has my vote 1000%! He is an up front and honest man. He came out and told everyone about things he has done in the past because it shouldn't be an issue with deciding your vote. And I love the fact that he doesn't stoop to some of these politicians extremely low levels with the belittling and what have you. Not only does this man have a plan, but it is a realistic plan. I don't want another President who came from a family of wealth. I don't want one who never actually had to work but was given a job based on his family and who they are friends with. I want someone who is humble, strong, and intelligent. I found those qualities in Obama!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama 08'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2007/07/24/PH2007072400927.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-4514731891793243347?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/4514731891793243347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=4514731891793243347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/4514731891793243347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/4514731891793243347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-political-moment.html' title='My Political Moment'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-3456829271043262840</id><published>2008-04-28T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T10:17:24.041-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Family Failures</title><content type='html'>Why do families always chose to support the best and the brightest out of the bunch? They go through all of this hoopla to make sure the gifted in the family are recognized but fail to do so with other family members? I guess everyone wants to brag to say hey I had a hand in that child's life and look where they are now. But, I never see the same time spent on those who are considered the troubled ones, who need the attention, love and support the most? It hurts my heart that families do this and then don't want to help said person(s) when they want to change. A families success story is just as important as the ones they consider failures. It starts early, no  child or even people learn or think the same; their thought processes are different. Yet no one wants to be that guiding light for those whose talents need a little more polish than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me for example, very deep things would be affecting me and I buried myself in my school work so I didn't have to think about them and I could preoccupy myself that way. I was always looked at as the good student of the bunch and everyone had (still have) high hopes for me. Everyone wants to say look I gave her that helping hands, I did this I did that. My sister on the other hand is an incredible writer and most of our family wouldn't know that because she is considered the one who is hard-headed, stubborn, a trouble-maker, etc. It just would be nice if she would have gotten the same attention as I and maybe she would be a little better off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of pisses me off because I recognized us being treated differently when we were younger and brought it to the attention of one of my family member's to which she replied " (Sister's Name) is doing that to herself, she is responsible for her own actions, so no I am not willing to extend my hand out to help her" or something like that. Now I don't disagree that my sis is responsible for her own actions but responsibility is something I don't think falls onto just one person. People should be there along the  way to point out why what you did was irresponsible and the repercussions it has without being condescending and rude!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-3456829271043262840?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/3456829271043262840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=3456829271043262840' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/3456829271043262840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/3456829271043262840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/family-failures.html' title='Family Failures'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-6607174231770306117</id><published>2008-04-25T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T07:39:56.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sexist Bastards'/><title type='text'>I'm a Woman, So That Must Mean I am Helpless!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_42/114040610811E24J.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_42/114040610811E24J.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hey, guess what I found out? I am not capable of defending myself so therefore I need a man to do so. Yeah Bullshit, I know! On one hand I can understand a friends of loved ones concern with me having so many male friends and how friendly I am with EVERYONE. However, I would greatly appreciate it if once they found out about any of my new friends that I wasn't reduced to this helpless female incapable of taking care of and protecting herself. Granted women are attacked and raped on the regular, why should I live in fear of people around me, especially when I refuse to do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I told my boyfriend and one of our good friends about a couple new guy friends that I met and they both jumped on the defensive, "Oh where you meet him at?" and "I need to meet him so I can find out what his intentions are". So of course I am like 1) neither one of yall my damn daddy (yeah I resorted to that) 2) where is all this concern when I am out shopping at night by my-damn-self 3) why aren't you concerned about all the friends I make ( women are scandalous too) and 4) when was not able to judge people on my fuckin own?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I don't choose to look at all people I meet with distrust. I'm not afraid of letting people know me because that is who the hell I am, ME. I am not as naive as people believe me to be I just don't jump up and yell bullshit when someone says something suspect. We all know its bullshit so why point out the obvious ya know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Whats kept me somewhat safe for so long is the fact that I follow my gut instinct and don't think twice about it, and the fact that I always have something that can be used as a weapon when need be. I have always held my own because I learned very long ago survival is something that you must do. I have survived alot, so trust me when I say reducing me to some in dire need, damsel in distress  is far from something that I am not. I may not be the strongest but if I feel that I am any type of dangerous situation whomever is pitted against me gonna have one hell of a time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-6607174231770306117?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/6607174231770306117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=6607174231770306117' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/6607174231770306117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/6607174231770306117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-woman-so-that-must-mean-i-am.html' title='I&apos;m a Woman, So That Must Mean I am Helpless!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-1771534282362348458</id><published>2008-04-24T04:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T06:58:06.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweetheart that's not cute!...vol.2</title><content type='html'>Ladies Edition:&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so now we have to address people's clothing habits. I think that it is absolutely inappropriate for a woman to wear jeans and there is flesh hanging over or bulging out of said clothing. Sweety no one wants to see your muffin tops mmm'kay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeans that are visibly too tight are not attractive either. KNOW your shape, point blank. For example, if you have a big butt don't wear low rider jeans. Low rider jeans, they were not created for you and will not fit you properly which leaves you flashing your crack whenever you sit, squat, or bend over. Trust me people don't really wanna see that. In fact when I do see that it causes me to vomit just a lil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have no butt, don't wear apple bottom jeans. Those jeans were created for a select few and chances are they didn't have you in mind when they did. Now if they created a flat back or wide back jeans you'd be the prime candidate for those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lord don't get me started on shirts. If you are extremely top heavy don't wear shirts that are v-cut. It looks like you stuffed to hams down the front of your shirt. This is no where near attractive. Now I know some of you can't help it, but you can buy better shirts and things more flattering to your figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story is don't ruin pretty clothing with your figure because you can't put an outfit together!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-1771534282362348458?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/1771534282362348458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=1771534282362348458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1771534282362348458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1771534282362348458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweetheart-thats-not-cutevol2.html' title='Sweetheart that&apos;s not cute!...vol.2'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5656568553453412854</id><published>2008-04-22T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T04:12:08.846-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Man/Woman Stuff'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>The Great Debate: Can Men and Women Be Just Friends?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.animationbuddy.com/Animation/Sports/Fighting_Sports/Big_fight.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.animationbuddy.com/Animation/Sports/Fighting_Sports/Big_fight.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try having this discussion in a crowded room and be prepared for all hell to break lose! People yelling, looting, and talking down to anyone who disagrees with what they have to say. And this is where I usually am...right in the middle arguing with everyone around me usually throwing out some random things like "you're an idiot" and "that's just plain stupid!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I guess I am the only one who still believes that a man and a woman can be JUST FRIENDS without them being attracted to each other. Now, granted alot of people tend to start out as friends and end up with each other, but I happen to think that they are just going with what is familiar to them and what they are comfortable with. I mean who wouldn't jump at the chance to date one of their great friends who has been there for them constantly and you already know their behavioral patterns as much as they know yours. Who wouldn't want to go with the safer choice versus the unknown?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;My thing is this I have plenty of guy friends. Some, if not most, happen to be my ex-boyfriends' and we are still friends. So at one point in time we were attracted to eah other, however this is not the case now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I have always thought that is is possible for a man and a woman to just be friends and nothing more. Why do we have to reduce everyones friendships by whether or not that person(s) attractive? And who the hell makes friends with people they only find attractive? It is humanly possible to be friends with someone because you guys enjoy the same interests.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;But, as usual people have been brainwashed into thinking the xact opposite. I mean look at all the shows, books, movies, song, etc exploring friendship on another level. How many times will this crap be force fed into our brains? And it is always the same unrealistic scene that plays out...such and such has that sudden spark that makes them fall for the other person after x amount of years of friendship. Which further plays into some stereotypical bullshit and makes all relationships harder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I am sure there are plenty of people who have been friends for years and never looked twice at each other, but then again we may never know because no one wants to bring up the positive in these relationships. No, they wanna bring out how such and such started dating his friend and how badly things turned out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I hate when people make things into something they are not. Men and Women can be JUST FRICKIN FRIENDS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5656568553453412854?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5656568553453412854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5656568553453412854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5656568553453412854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5656568553453412854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/great-debate-can-men-and-women-be-just.html' title='The Great Debate: Can Men and Women Be Just Friends?'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-8511162800415625217</id><published>2008-04-18T08:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T08:38:21.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...Oh you have a son? Are You Married?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.icestandard.org/files/productsimages/WS/7046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.icestandard.org/files/productsimages/WS/7046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;This is by far the most annoying fucking question I have heard in my life...right along with "oh you live together...are you married?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;The very next person to ask me this dumb ass question will spend the next 10 minutes of their life getting their ears blessed from the slew of curse words and inappropriate phrases that will flow so naturally from my mouth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;What is it with people who want to know if I am married because I have a kid. News flash, marriage does not mean you have to have kids. I have a uterus which puts me in a great category to get pregnant and guess what HAVE A FUCKING CHILD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;And I swear if I hear its a sin to have a child out of wedlock I will bitch slap the next person who says this. You not suppose to do alot of shit because it is a sin but we do. So don't try and make it seem as though having a child out of wedlock is the greatest fucking sin in the world. Your being a judgemental asshole and guess what that's a sin so eat shit fuck face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Marriage is not the fucking answer to every relationship. Its great, don't get me wrong for people to confess their love for one another in front of friends and relatives, however don;t push marriage on people who are not ready to take that step. Be happy that I am a good mother who is providing for her child without depending on aide from the state or anyone else for that matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;How about congratulating someone for having a child instead of that condescending ass tone you love to use so often. I could have went the route you or one of your family members chose and aborted my child because I wouldn't want to be an unwed mother capable of taking care of that child and loving it until the world ends and beyond. Oh no, you have to push that bullshit this way. Well push pass me with that shit because I am one proud unwed mofo right now who wouldn't trade her baby in for not one damn person on this earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;**Side note: Cursing could not be limited or prevented in this post, some people are assholes!**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-8511162800415625217?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/8511162800415625217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=8511162800415625217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/8511162800415625217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/8511162800415625217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/oh-you-have-son-are-you-married.html' title='...Oh you have a son? Are You Married?'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-9009299832838872167</id><published>2008-04-17T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T10:33:30.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>parental Guidance is Required</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://teens-in-crisis.com/HTDWDT/index_files/SuggestionsForParents.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://teens-in-crisis.com/HTDWDT/index_files/SuggestionsForParents.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;BEAT HER ARSE WITH A BAG OF MARBLES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG! We were at the park yesterday and these bad arse group of urban decay was not too far away from where the kids were playing. Now mind you, the idiots near the playground were well above the age of 12 but thought it was a good idea to curse the entire got-damn-time they were there. One of the lil assholes brought his damn pitbull (I love these dogs by the way, but not for a playground) up there so he could attempt to show off. The sad but funny part about it was that he was not walking the dog the dog was walking him. We even had a hoodrat-ish chick hanging out with them and for whatever reason continued to do so even though they paid her no attention whatsoever. Anyway, my buddy was up there with his sons and he pointed out the fact that there were way too many kids up there and not enough parents. Which ultimately led me to wonder 1) who in the hell lets there bad ass kids roam the neighborhood?, 2) where are their damn parents?, and 3) what the hell happened to parental guidance and community togetherness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was truly shocked and amazed at the utter foolishness going on at the damn playground. I remember when they playground was respected somewhat like the church. People didn't smoke, drink, or curse on the grounds. I was there one day and some maggot-brained bastard decided he would start smoking a cigar right by the damn monkey bars...ASSHOLE! What the hell happened to people knowing where their children are and what they are doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Sidenote: If I hear another little, and by little I mean under the age of 14, girl say, "imma put this on myspace!" I will personally trip her down a flight of steps. Okay maybe not, but damn why do children have to ruin something that was once fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez! What in the hell do we have to do to get our communities back right? I for one would love to have a home in the neighborhood we live in but their would be some serious rule changes. Like for one, well mannered children only in public places...if your child doesn't have the decency to have manners then they don't need to be near others. Oh, and I don't want the little bastards loitering anywhere bringing down my home value. &lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-9009299832838872167?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/9009299832838872167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=9009299832838872167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/9009299832838872167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/9009299832838872167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/parental-guidance-is-required.html' title='parental Guidance is Required'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-6332073488626237183</id><published>2008-04-17T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T08:43:02.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Personal Retreats</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.windrainsky.com/photos/greatfalls1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 295px; CURSOR: hand" height="414" alt="" src="http://www.windrainsky.com/photos/greatfalls1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Okay, okay I admit it. I need a vacation away from life, love, family, and of course work! I have finally come to a point where I just need to go somewhere and relax and regroup for a couple days. I find it kind of hard to figure out what exactly I want when everyday life interrupts my thoughts a gazillion times a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;The problem is I don't know when and where I should find the time to do this. I would especially feel bad because I feel like I am neglecting my duties as a mother and miss out on some valuable time that I could be spending with my son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I frickin hate feeling like this because I am the one who typically gets the short end of the stick. I don't get a chance to relax, nor do I have any me time. And the few times that I do have me time I have went about feeling guilty because I feel as if I am being selfish, which in turn makes the outing a whole lot shorter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Feeling like this sucks the most because I hav efinally hit a point in my life where I need to make some major, and possibly life-changing decisions and I cannot do so properly and thoroughly because of all the things I have to deal with on a daily basis. I feel like somewhere between then and now I kind of lost a little piece of myself, and to get it back is probably gonna be hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-6332073488626237183?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/6332073488626237183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=6332073488626237183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/6332073488626237183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/6332073488626237183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/personal-retreats.html' title='Personal Retreats'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-2394260291870187184</id><published>2008-04-15T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T12:07:09.304-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>Relationships Roles</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.planetlightworker.com/articles/bookreviews/images/destructive-relationships.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.planetlightworker.com/articles/bookreviews/images/destructive-relationships.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;So apparently the rest of society knows the secret roles of men and women in relationships, while I being of sound mind and completely sober have no effing clue what the hell they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had some interesting conversations with my male friends and they seem to be under the notion that their woman is supposed to know her role. Of course I asked what the hell that role was? To which they reply "You know, cater to her man...cook, clean, let me be the decision-maker, I have the final say in things, submissive, blah, blah, blah." Now that's some seriously unadulterated sexist shyt right there. And the worst part about it is that a lot of them truly believe this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why I wasn't brainwashed like the rest of these people they meet that believe this shyt.Responsibilities, not roles, lie in all relationships and they should be shared equally. You both have the responsibility to pay bills, cook dinner, take care of the kids, be committed to one another, etc, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, the day I have to take on motherly responsibilities towards a grown ass man will be the day I am single. I have never wanted a man who couldn't do shyt for himself, okay well there was that one guy I liked but thats another story + I ain't do shyt for him. I don't know how people fall into these stereotypical ass relationships that seem to be straight out of the 50s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;And people need to stop half raising boys and letting them out of housework they don't deem a man's work. A real man knows how to cook food that can be digested by humans, wash his own damn clothes, and clean up after himself. People also need to teach their daughters more than this housework bullish because you aren't doing anything but creating another woman who will ultimately be dependant on a man to do shyt that she could possibly do for herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Why can't people just understand that there aren't any roles in a relationship?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-2394260291870187184?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/2394260291870187184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=2394260291870187184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2394260291870187184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/2394260291870187184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/relationships-roles.html' title='Relationships Roles'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-342146730170003649</id><published>2008-04-09T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T12:00:40.911-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foolishness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ignorance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Education'/><title type='text'>Attempted Thuggery in College</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.shapelessdesign.com/2d/thug.png"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" height="349" alt="" src="http://www.shapelessdesign.com/2d/thug.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;There is an increasing amount of foolishness walking amongst the educated and determined on college campuses across America. Those of us who truly wanted something outside of what we are/were used to and expand our knowledge into something outside of "hood" knowledge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;But, while we are pursuing our education why must we run into these ass clowns who never got the memo that "Being intelligent is a good thing!" I am so sick and tired of running into these assholes, who's sole purpose is to make the college experience less than favorable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;These are the idiots that come to class never or when they do they usually are disruptive the entire time. They are always bragging about how drunk and/or high they are/were and what chick they are messing with, will mess with, or would like to mess with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sometimes, I just wanna stop them and ask them why the hell did you come to college in the first place? Is it because your mom didn't want your triffling ass staying in her house after high school? Is it because your parents needed the right-off on taxes? Did you promise the LORD to go to college when your ass was suppose to go to jail? I mean like what is it that they think they are doing? The ish is nowhere near cool and quite frankly someone should tell them they are the laughing stock of the effing world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;It is cool to laugh and joke in class but the whole damn period, na thats not cool. Let me break it down for you... Right now the average tuition of a college is somewhere around $12, 000 a semester/ $9500 if you're not staying on campus. Which means if you take 12 credit hours you are full-time. Now each class may be 3 credit hours which makes the total for just one class $2375/ each credit is $761.66. If the course is a standard 16 week course then I am paying roughly $48 a week for classes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Now I don't know about you but the average college student doesn't have alot of money (not credit cards actual money) to waste on bull-ish. Quite frankly no one has money to waste in college. I say those of us who understand that tuition costs big bucks smack the dogsh-t out of anyone who interrupts our classes with foolishness and get the most for our money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Get a effing clue, idiots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-342146730170003649?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/342146730170003649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=342146730170003649' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/342146730170003649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/342146730170003649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/attempted-thuggery-in-college.html' title='Attempted Thuggery in College'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-1067338840035962235</id><published>2008-04-08T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T06:37:21.745-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Our Beloved Music</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_42/1140841917tAa9Gn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px;" src="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_42/1140841917tAa9Gn.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OUR MUSIC NOWADAYS SUCKS&lt;/strong&gt;!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;NOT ALL OF IT, BUT MOST OF IT. THIS IS WHY I AM SO SELECTIVE ABOUT THE CDS I BUY AND ARTISTS I SUPPORT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;FEMALE ARTISTS PLEASE, PLEASE NO MORE OF THESE FAIRYTALE ASS STORIES ABOUT LOVE. REAL COUPLES ARGUE AND MORE IMPORTANTLY THEY HAVE MAKE-UP SEX! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;MALE ARTISTS NOBODY GIVES A DAMN ABOUT YOUR DIAMONDS, CARS, CREDIT CARDS, JUMPOFFS, DRINKS, OR CLOTHES. LET IT GO, LIKE FOR REAL ITS LAME. ALL THE SONGS SOUND THE SAME AND TO MAKE IT WORSE THEY HAVE DANCES TO GO WITH THEM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;IS IT REALLY THAT HARD TO FIND TALENTS OR SONGS OF SUBSTANCE OR MUST THE MUSIC COMPANIES CONTINUE TO INSULT US WITH THIS BULLSHIT THEY CONSIDER MUSIC BECAUSE THEY HAVE TO REACH A TARGET AUDIENCE OF IDIOTS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;NOW DON'T GET ME WRONG I LOVE MUSIC AND WILL LOVE IT UNTIL THE DAY I DIE, BUT IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK TO GET SOME MUSIC WITH SOME SUBSTANCE AND IT ACTUALLY MAKE IT MAINSTREAM. OR MUST ALL THE INTELLECTUALS STAY UNDERGROUND TO MAKE THEIR MONEY?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-1067338840035962235?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/1067338840035962235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=1067338840035962235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1067338840035962235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1067338840035962235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/our-beloved-music.html' title='Our Beloved Music'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-7079319794684117586</id><published>2008-04-05T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T09:53:08.090-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Semi-Christians</title><content type='html'>Ahh, its a touchy subject for most, seeing as though the only time some of us resemble Christians is on Sunday. Mr/Mrs. Don't Curse on the LORD'S Day, drive past the LORD'S house playing that worldly music, or use the LORD'S name in Vain. How is it that the only time we observe GOD is on Sunday or when we want something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always found this to be amazing, even as a child. I always wondered why Sister Such and Such was always coming over to gossip about someone else; always saying something negative about so and so or their bad ass kids (everyone knows they are bad, but no one wanted to step in and give them guidance); oh and my favorite, "Girl, if that was me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thing is, why is everyone so damn religious when it comes to things they don't agree with (ie same-sex marriage). I am amazed at the amount of people who can quote word for word verses from the bible, yet these are the same people who are not following the word either. I have one word for all these people, yall some "SEMI-CHRISTIANS!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.I said it best "we all sinners/ what matters is in the center/ I know GOD see my heart/ and I'm a stand up figa (well he said the n-word but I replaced it). So there, get mad if you like, but chances are if you mad then I am talking to you. If you don't like it change your ways and how you act towards people, cus it is in fact in the BIBLE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-7079319794684117586?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/7079319794684117586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=7079319794684117586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/7079319794684117586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/7079319794684117586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/semi-christians.html' title='Semi-Christians'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5074968966894613929</id><published>2008-04-01T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T05:35:49.031-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>The Typical Vacation, ummmm sucks</title><content type='html'>Okay, so last year we went to Myrtle Beach for vacation and it was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. I love the town and attractions and the shopping, lol. However, why when I am trying to plan a vacation everyone wants to go to the usual places i.e. Miami, Vegas, LA, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vacations are to relax and get away from everyday life (work especially), excuse me if I don't want to go to these big, busy ass cities crowded by a mass number of tourist from not just here, but every damn where. So I took it upon myself to investigate a couple not so known places, to US as a whole and these fools are like what are we gonna do there. We are going to do the same damn thing we did in Mrytle Beach, eat every damn where all the damn time, shop, sleep, visit some attractions, and take plenty of pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean these are some top-notch places and by no means cheap, very nice resorts. I just think it would be nice to go somewhere out of the norm and actually enjoy it 110%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And people wylin' out on vacation is NOT a good look, very unattractive, and uncalled for. You can laugh, dance, party, and drink and maintain some sort of class. But very few do this because for the most part we have fallen under the notion that belligerent drunk + vacation= one helluva time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me for maintaining myself while in a town I know little about and barely know where I am going and partying with people who have no obligations to me whatsoever. I will drink myself into a stupor in the comfort of my own home, thank you (LOL).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5074968966894613929?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5074968966894613929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5074968966894613929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5074968966894613929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5074968966894613929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/typical-vacation-ummmm-sucks.html' title='The Typical Vacation, ummmm sucks'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5754736440307004586</id><published>2008-04-01T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T05:36:43.313-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Interaction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Common-Damn-Sense'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Manners'/><title type='text'>Sweetheart...Thats Not Cute! vol.1</title><content type='html'>Okay so I have grown and matured slightly and feel the need to guide these poor people who have no clue. Not mold them into mini-mes but give the some unadulterated truth, because it seems they aren't getting it or using it anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday, I see something that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;irks&lt;/span&gt; me to the core. So today we shall address MANNERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Morning, afternoon, or evening ARE NOT, I repeat ARE NOT, open invitations to smirk, smile, remain silent, stare off into space,scratch your head, adjust your clothing or twiddle your thumbs. Someone found it in their hearts to acknowledge you are in fact there and not look past you as the rift-raft some of you dress like. I don't know how many times I have walked past of or some of these kids and said my greeting and they look like I said something to them in a foreign language. How about this open your mouth and say something back, like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hmmmmmmmmmmmmm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;iono&lt;/span&gt; "Good ____(insert morning,afternoon,evening here). It won't kill you, trust me...see this is how it's suppose to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: Good Morning!&lt;br /&gt;you: Good Morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: Good Morning!&lt;br /&gt;you: &lt;nothing&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and another thing, people do not hold the door open for you because you are royalty or even entitled to it. We do it because it is called common courtesy. Don't just walk through the door and not say THANK YOU.You may not meet someone as nice as me and brush it off, they instead may push your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; tail back out the door and close it in your face, leaving you angry, ashamed and embarrassed. And if someone happens to tell you THANK YOU, respond with YOUR WELCOME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, EXCUSE ME/PARDON ME, is not the only time you pass gas. If you walk through two people having a conversation or want to interject and add something of relevance. Oh how I wish sometimes when this happened I had a yo-yo, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cus&lt;/span&gt; I would bop you in the back of the head with it for being so darned rude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asking for something, say PLEASE, there is nothing worse than someone asking for something and they don't say please. I can't even count how many times people will ask me to do something or get something and won't say PLEASE. They ask and give you that look like shouldn't you be moving now. So I stand there and they will be like "oh am I forgetting something" or "did you need anything else" and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; when I say "sure" as sarcastically as possible, "PLEASE!" The dumbfounded faces I have seen alone when I say "PLEASE" is enough to have me laughing the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure I am missing out on some others but, these stuck out the most&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5754736440307004586?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5754736440307004586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5754736440307004586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5754736440307004586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5754736440307004586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweetheartthats-not-cute-vol1.html' title='Sweetheart...Thats Not Cute! vol.1'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-5345802515765355963</id><published>2008-03-28T07:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T07:49:53.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love Nerds!</title><content type='html'>Okay I admit it...I love a man with a brain. A man who can carry on a conversation without the need to show how "hood" or "real"  he is. A man who can count, pronuciate words, READ, indulge himself in coversations outside of what cd he is getting or rims he wants for his ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love nerds!!! Not the revenge of the nerd type nerds (uhmmm they are not sexy at all, they are dysfunctional in social and personal settings) but a guy who isn't afraid to expand his mind into new things and take chances. A man that can open his mouth and something of substance usually follows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew they are just sexy to me and guess what I know a couple so I am a little spoiled right now,  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-5345802515765355963?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/5345802515765355963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=5345802515765355963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5345802515765355963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/5345802515765355963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-i-love-nerds.html' title='Why I Love Nerds!'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-439895023722446253.post-1489045269963610477</id><published>2008-03-26T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T12:44:01.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Very First Entry</title><content type='html'>It's official...I have been bitten by the blogging bug and now the overflow of my thoughts has made its way to the net. Just bear with me as I attempt to clear my brain and express myself as best I know how. Be back tomorrow !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/439895023722446253-1489045269963610477?l=declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/feeds/1489045269963610477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=439895023722446253&amp;postID=1489045269963610477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1489045269963610477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/439895023722446253/posts/default/1489045269963610477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://declarationofmyownopinions.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-very-first-entry.html' title='My Very First Entry'/><author><name>Miss Kella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05520149749542473041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
