<?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-7704250275340867430</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:32:39.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abbey Road.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-5685338959041333453</id><published>2009-04-11T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T16:06:06.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frumpy Friday Turned Swell</title><content type='html'>Listeining to: Time To Pretend by MGMT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently losing myself in &lt;a href="http://http://www.playlist.com/playlist/559163147/standalone"&gt;Kerri's playlist &lt;/a&gt;as I stare out the oversized windows of my apartment complex office. Today was a beautiful day, I wanted to do nothing more than run through a field of wildflowers in a sundress. One of 3 new sundresses, actually. I want to thank you, Jesse, the sweet Urban Outfitters girl that made my frumpy Friday turn swell. I miraculously found 3 dresses that I loved, and let me tell you, they loved &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;! She changed the once priced $68.00 dress to a much more attractive $19.99. AMAZING. So I bought em all :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current Infatuations:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerri's playlist (duh.)&lt;br /&gt;green grass and sunshine&lt;br /&gt;my kitties...(only 2)&lt;br /&gt;the photos Matt took&lt;br /&gt;Vickery Park salad&lt;br /&gt;White Sangria&lt;br /&gt;city lights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to working tonight. Come see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;SHINE ON.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-5685338959041333453?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5685338959041333453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=5685338959041333453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5685338959041333453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5685338959041333453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/frumpy-friday-turned-swell.html' title='Frumpy Friday Turned Swell'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-4160839736499880298</id><published>2009-02-26T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T18:44:01.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nacogdoches</title><content type='html'>Listening to: Samson by Regina Spektor on Ben Kweller Pandora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello darlings, it's been a while.&lt;br /&gt;Mainly because my keyboard is a little defective.. but a sweet woman gave me an even sweeter silicone keyboard! Did I mention it was &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;?! DUH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past four days/nights with the flu (go get your shot folks) have really kept me thinking about people, the past, the future, and other dreadful things. Okay, you're not so dreadful, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I need to get this off my chest... or  will simply die.&lt;br /&gt;(Yes, you love my melodramatics)&lt;br /&gt;Years ago...&lt;br /&gt;There was this &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;firefly&lt;/span&gt; of a boy.&lt;br /&gt;God... he was -and still very much is- such a beautiful soul.&lt;br /&gt;If you could hand pick every quality I want to spend time with, like wildflowers in a field... bundle them up and tie a pretty ribbon around them... you would have this boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I did what I do best.. I made a big mess of things. Time went by and I began seeing someone, and life happened. But not a day goes by that I don't wonder what life would have turned out like had I not been so Typical Taylor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He may be the one that got away, and I kick myself for it.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the long talks and the spontaneous laughs over  the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day I will get a second chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a certain beauty in infatuation... In a crush.&lt;br /&gt;It is exactly the way I want it to be... there are no let downs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no getting too comfortable... there is as much lustre as I wish.&lt;br /&gt;But I do wonder what could have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh.......  tomorrow I can blame this on the cough medicine.&lt;br /&gt;Im totally missing you tonight though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;Tay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-4160839736499880298?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4160839736499880298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=4160839736499880298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/4160839736499880298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/4160839736499880298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/nacogdoches.html' title='Nacogdoches'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-5707353458342241910</id><published>2008-12-20T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T12:55:39.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Much too small.</title><content type='html'>LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It becomes so real sometimes. More real than I can ever accept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that my stepbrother, Dean, has stage 3 liver cancer.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so selfishly angry right now. I am sure as it begins to sink in, I will think of someone other than myself... But I am infuriated. This is the first time I have ever felt like I had a family... and now it's being taken away. I waited my entire life to belong to someone, to a home, to a family. Here I am...&lt;br /&gt;My brother, who doesn't want to do chemo...&lt;br /&gt;My stepmother, who has congestive heart failure, and a man made device to make her heart beat... whose defibrulator went off twice this week...&lt;br /&gt;My father who can hardly walk, and will be in a wheelchair soon, and is a fierce alcoholic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know how to lose what I barely had.&lt;br /&gt;It has taken a year to learn to love them, to feel as if I belong.&lt;br /&gt;Dean is in his 40's. He's so young. A dashingly handsome man. Has a 12 yr old daughter he just met a year ago. When I was a little girl (this will completely give away my age :) ) He taught me the Salt n Pepa song, "Let's talk about sex" and I didn't believe him that it was a real song. Then I was convinced it was a country song. . . That's the only memory I have of him, before my father disappeared. Bless his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cancer.&lt;br /&gt;Such an angry word. Takes my breath away just to read it across the screen. Such an evil entity to come and rob every innocence, life, and future anyone once had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know much about cancer. My mother's parents died when I was 10. I know there are 4 stages.... 3 is so close to the end. This is such bullshit. It's not fair. He deserves to live just as much as anyone. Let him. Just let him live. How do I do this. . . I long to fix things. I want to fix people. And when I can't a piece of me dies as I stand helpless. I want to fix him. I want him to laugh and to smile. To run, to play with his new dog. To get married. To have babies. To grow old. I want him to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My heart is much too big to handle this.&lt;br /&gt;Much too big.&lt;br /&gt;And I am much too small.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-5707353458342241910?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5707353458342241910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=5707353458342241910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5707353458342241910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5707353458342241910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/12/much-too-small.html' title='Much too small.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-6071016956069652975</id><published>2008-11-15T12:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T12:16:17.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I miss the sound of your voice&lt;br /&gt;And I miss the rush of your skin&lt;br /&gt;And I miss the still of the silence&lt;br /&gt;As you breathe out and I breathe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i could walk on water&lt;br /&gt;If I could tell you what's next&lt;br /&gt;Make you believe&lt;br /&gt;Make you forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher, loosen my lips&lt;br /&gt;Faith and desire in the swing of your hips&lt;br /&gt;Just pull me down hard&lt;br /&gt;And drown me in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher, loosen my lips&lt;br /&gt;Faith and desire in the swing of your hips&lt;br /&gt;Just pull me down hard&lt;br /&gt;And drown me in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the sound of your voice&lt;br /&gt;The loudest thing in my head&lt;br /&gt;And I ache to remember&lt;br /&gt;All the violent, sweet&lt;br /&gt;Perfect words that you said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could walk on water&lt;br /&gt;If I could tell you what's next&lt;br /&gt;I'd make you believe&lt;br /&gt;I'd make you forget&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher, loosen my lips&lt;br /&gt;Faith and desire in the swing of your hips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just pull me down hard&lt;br /&gt;And drown me in love&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher, loosen my lips&lt;br /&gt;Faith and desire in the swing of your hips&lt;br /&gt;Just pull me down hard&lt;br /&gt;And drown me in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the pull of your heart&lt;br /&gt;I could taste the sparks on your tongue&lt;br /&gt;I see angels and devils&lt;br /&gt;And God, when you come on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on&lt;br /&gt;Sing sha la la la&lt;br /&gt;Sing sha la la la la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher, loosen my lips&lt;br /&gt;Faith and desire in the swing of your hips&lt;br /&gt;Just pull me down hard&lt;br /&gt;And drown me in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher, loosen my lips&lt;br /&gt;Faith and desire in the swing of your hips&lt;br /&gt;Just pull me down hard&lt;br /&gt;And drown me, drown me in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all wrong, it's all wrong,it's so truly right&lt;br /&gt;So come on, get higher&lt;br /&gt;So come on and get higher&lt;br /&gt;'Cause everything works, love&lt;br /&gt;Everything works in your arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steven arrives in the States in 39 days.&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I am ready for this. It is still so fresh, so raw...&lt;br /&gt;I would have thought by now I would be better at this. I can hardly handle hearing his sweet voice, though I long to daily. I cannot fathom standing so small in his presence. So vulnerable. My castle walls fell down and I am exposed. I am still standing with my heart on a silver platter as if its worth something to him. They say you can't rush these things, healing takes time. I don't want to heal from this. I don't want to let him go. Things were not supposed to be this way. I had plans. I had a life...planned. A life for us. To swell and shrink through the tides of life. Together.&lt;br /&gt;I now know we could never be together, even if he wanted to be. We are different people. Our foundation is shattered because we each hold individual truths. They no longer compliment each other. But to think of the days when I settle... when I raise my children...they will not be his. It is more difficult to comprehend than any scientfic equation, any philosophical ideal... I will not grow old with him. I will not be his wife. Surely it will sink in. It has to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am off to Friend's Thanksgiving, it will be grand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-6071016956069652975?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6071016956069652975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=6071016956069652975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/6071016956069652975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/6071016956069652975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-miss-sound-of-your-voice-and-i-miss.html' title=''/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-8255436709242085683</id><published>2008-11-07T09:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T09:45:33.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life for my weary bones.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LISTENING TO: Violet Hill by Coldplay.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is official. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;History was made. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am in utter awe of our country. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is still a bit surreal. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Still sinking in. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slowly. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We have so far to go....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My mother and I are not speaking because the truth finally came to an ugly head regarding her vote. She voted McCain.... with the mindset that "we" are "upper class" and it is "our money". &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Did she forget she is living in a motel 6, with no health insurance, receiving food stamps?)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I asked her on Wednesday if she watched Obama's speech after the election had been declared. I was shocked to hear the anger in her voice when she scoffed, "No, I don't want to talk about it... its just the way I was raised..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WOW. The race card. My stomach churned as I wrestled with the thought that my mother would not support our future POTUS because of the color of his skin. I am sick now thinking about it. I thought we had moved past this. Sure there are people out there with this sad, sad mindset... but my mother? My very own mother. I am so ashamed. She blew up at me, claiming I have no understanding towards her. I sternly let her know I have understanding towards her, but I will not be tolerant or understanding of an ideal as awful as this. She might as well have said slavery was justified. She tried many excuses... she always does... I need to move on.... you get the picture. I am fuming at this point.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will never forget November 4, 2008.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One of the most memorable days of my life. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am so blessed to have been surrounded by my beautiful friends, huddled around a screen, where a humble man spoke life into my weary bones. Words of hope, strength, progression, and love filled the living room at Luke and Kerri's. Tears streamed down our faces as we knew we were a part of something monumental. I truly feel sad for those that are so focused on the loss of their candidate to have completely missed out on this once in a lifetime moment. I cannot wait to sit down with children of my own and tell them about the day equality and civil rights soared to a new level. I will never forget the feeling I had during the Primary caucus as I placed the call to enter my precint's votes for Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. I was overwhelmed with joy and knew I held a specific part in writing history. We all did. Congratulations, America, you have come a long, long way. &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/7704250275340867430-8255436709242085683?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8255436709242085683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=8255436709242085683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/8255436709242085683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/8255436709242085683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-for-my-weary-bones.html' title='Life for my weary bones.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-1489139757962754965</id><published>2008-10-29T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T08:24:57.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Mess</title><content type='html'>LISTENING TO: The Resolution by Jack's Mannequin&lt;br /&gt;Men.&lt;br /&gt;Frustrate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss feeling cherished. Cherished in any sense, not necessarily in a romantic sense. Merely, to know that someone understands the value of a friend, of a person. To know, they are careful with your heart... with other's hearts... and are not simply thinking about themselves ALL the time.&lt;br /&gt;The audacity. . .&lt;br /&gt;Tact.&lt;br /&gt;Gone.&lt;br /&gt;Out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really so over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annnnyways,&lt;br /&gt;Last night after the tv on the radio show, I wanted pizza, so I stopped by Zubar to see Chance and snagged pizza across the street. Bob had already beat me there, so the three of us closed it down and then some. As if 2am is not late enough, the perks of being a bartender include staying even later. I believe we stumbled out of there at about 330? I was the only one who had to work the next day. And here I am. Quite the productive one. I look a hot mess. Poor Chancey got conned into buying me a flower from some jerk. It was dumb. And then, not realizing he was hussling the bartender, (apparently the guy comes in every week selling roses) hits him up for 10 bucks after it is already in my hand! This thing better bloom. I tried to give it back. It didn't work out so well. Also- Chance needs to stop stealing my wardrobe and awesome style. We had matching "upper westside Manhattan brims". My fedora is better. And I had it first. Bob is kind of amazing. And looks smashing with his new Xtopher'ed hair. I tell you, that guy can do some crazy things with shears and razors. Bobby, please work for Dr. Delphinium. I would like free flowers. You know. The ones they throw away b/c they opened up too much. Those. You'll see. I could never throw them away when I worked at Forever Floral. LOVED it. Flowers make my life beautiful. I have rambled too much, you probably already stopped reading. Shoot. I would have.&lt;br /&gt;Love you all more than most things. Okay more than anything. That's better. But I do love music. Alot. Okay. Tootles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I love Hampton.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-1489139757962754965?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1489139757962754965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=1489139757962754965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/1489139757962754965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/1489139757962754965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/hot-mess.html' title='Hot Mess'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-5448371425051167769</id><published>2008-10-29T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T07:52:12.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Concert Junkie</title><content type='html'>LISTENING TO: Meg White by Ray Lamontagne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen 36-3465983249561 shows this month. Actually, only 4. But it feels like that many.&lt;br /&gt;Quite an eclectic group, I must say.&lt;br /&gt;Oct21- Girl Talk&lt;br /&gt;- Was fun, but would have been so much better at a smaller venue, with better sound equip, and had there not been a bjillizillion douchebags there. Granted I am 21, but the audience still made ME feel old, not to mention all of my friends. Greg also should not have catered to the douchebag's needs by playing lots of new hip-hop. I enjoy it, but his old stuff is sooooo much better. What happened to Fleetwood Mac? Urgh.&lt;br /&gt;Oct22- Jack's Mannequin&lt;br /&gt;- Bob and Christi. We had a blast. Andrew McMahon is simply amazing. I want to be his piano. I tried so hard to get Ayo to get me a date. It didn't happen much to my dismay. But hey- I threw myself out there.&lt;br /&gt;Oct24- Ray Lamontagne&lt;br /&gt;Meesh, Jen, and Benj! First I had the acorn squash at Dream Cafe. So fun. SOOO good. Ray's voice is decadence. Truly warms my bones. I actually cried during one song. So did the possibly cute guy next to me. He liked my shoes.  After the show, we stayed out till 2:30 at this sweet little wine bistro/restaurant. Michael met up with us. I was a 5th wheel, but I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;Oct28- TV on the Radio&lt;br /&gt;SUCH A GREAT PERFORMANCE! I am new to this band, and I am in love. Its so great to see so many very talented musicians come together and create a sound completely original and absolutely profound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-5448371425051167769?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5448371425051167769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=5448371425051167769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5448371425051167769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5448371425051167769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/concert-junkie.html' title='Concert Junkie'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-5434029525725936085</id><published>2008-10-08T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T15:06:18.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bruised</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Listening to: Jack's Mannequin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I've got my things, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I'm good to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;You met me at the terminal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Just one more plane ride and it's done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;We stood like statues at the gate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Vacation's come and gone too late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;There's so much sun where I'm from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I had to give it away, had to give you away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;And we spent four days on an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Island at your family's old hotel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Sometimes perfection can be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;It can be perfect hell, perfect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;That I am not there, I swear I didn't mean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;For it to feel like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Like every inch of me is bruised, bruised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;And don't fly fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt; Oh, pilot can you help me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Can you make this last?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt; This plane is all I got&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;So keep it steady, now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Cause every inch you see is bruised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I lace my Chucks, I walk the aisle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I take my pills, the babies cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;All I hear is what's playing through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;The in-flight radio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Now every word of every song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I ever heard that made me wanna stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Is what's playing through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;The in-flight radio, and I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;And I am, finally waking up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;That I am not there, I swear I didn't mean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;For it to feel like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Like every inch of me is bruised, bruised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Don't fly fast. Oh, pilot can you help me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Can you make this last? This plane is all I got&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;So keep it steady, now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Cause every inch you see is bruised, yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;So read your books, but stay out late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Some nights, some nights, and don't think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;That you can't stop by the bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;You haven't shown your face here since the bad news&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Well I'm here till close, with fingers crossed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Each night cause your place isn't far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;And hours pass, and hours pass, yeah, yeah... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Yeah, yeah, she still counts the minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;That I am not there, I swear I didn't mean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;For it to feel like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Like every inch of me is bruised, bruised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;And don't fly fast. Oh, pilot can you help me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Can you make this last? This plane is all I got&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;So keep it steady, now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Cause every inch you see is bruised, bruised, bruised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I still can't believe we didn't make it... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;That you are so far away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Come home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;It wouldn't be the same. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I still sometimes daydream that you will come back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;That we will stick a band-aid on it and be okay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I can smell you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I have memorized the curves of your body from head to toe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I miss you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I am scared of December. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;How do I let you go again? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I want to be over you, over us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I simply am not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-5434029525725936085?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5434029525725936085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=5434029525725936085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5434029525725936085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5434029525725936085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/bruised.html' title='Bruised'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-3822438769165087146</id><published>2008-09-28T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T17:58:59.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too girly to handle. Gross.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SOAmkBzorAI/AAAAAAAAACY/ulMRNam4ZzE/s1600-h/Gentoo-Penguin-pair-holding-hands_644849.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251239565916154882" style="WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px" height="177" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SOAmkBzorAI/AAAAAAAAACY/ulMRNam4ZzE/s200/Gentoo-Penguin-pair-holding-hands_644849.jpg" width="300" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Again?! Ugh. So cruel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Last night was, ... fun. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am such a girl. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Really hate it sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Went to Waxahachie last night. What a town. I had to drive to Ennis for beer, LAME. (Might I add that my entire family tree and then a thousand more Slovaks live in Ennis.)&lt;br /&gt;I had forgotten I had only eaten a handful of edemame beans the entire day, therefore ended up way to drunk off of way to little to drink, LAME. I apparently missed out on some great conversation and an entire movie. I did however watch this amazing movie with Maggie Gyllenhall (sp?) as a submissive secretary... SO GOOD. I want a love like that, haha. She was so persistent. Persistence is not something typically valued in the chase. Too bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The dog I was only to &lt;em&gt;visit &lt;/em&gt;is now the newest member of my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SOAmbmlQ4JI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Na3ONUsozNo/s1600-h/dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251239421169164434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SOAmbmlQ4JI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Na3ONUsozNo/s200/dog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not quite sure how I feel about it,... but he is here. It just sort of happened. I was on the phone with Julian (of course) all the way up to Denton and he knew the entire time I would go home with the dog... because I "fall in love with every creature I meet". I suppose this is true. So much for self control. It really was tragic, though. These punk college guys were not taking care of him well at all. Within minutes I had learned that they gave him beer and weed. Its one thing to partake in those as a human... but &lt;em&gt;REALLY!? &lt;/em&gt;Its an 8 month old dog. No need for drugs and alchohol. So here he is. He continually humps Will, and poor Will completely submits to this torture while I cry in horror. It really is a freak show at my house. Not to mention prior to his new crate, I left him alone for an hour and he destroyed my apt. Ugh. I should have known. He is completely potty trained minus the occasional spray in the dog toy aisle at Petsmart, but I no longer have working blinds, window screens, or a doorframe. I am getting it all replaced this week. Yayyyy. He still needs a name. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...Here's to the nights...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-3822438769165087146?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3822438769165087146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=3822438769165087146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/3822438769165087146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/3822438769165087146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/again-ugh.html' title='Too girly to handle. Gross.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SOAmkBzorAI/AAAAAAAAACY/ulMRNam4ZzE/s72-c/Gentoo-Penguin-pair-holding-hands_644849.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-5618772736188735457</id><published>2008-09-25T15:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T16:19:32.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going to meet a Beagle dog.</title><content type='html'>LISTENING TO: Fool In the Rain- Led Zeppelin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNwcCjuXiYI/AAAAAAAAACI/mWJZPrEizkI/s1600-h/led.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250102095882193282" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNwcCjuXiYI/AAAAAAAAACI/mWJZPrEizkI/s200/led.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;--- this is what i look like when I sing this song. The weather this week has been glorious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ronforhomes.com/frames/images/coto/Photo%20album/fall%20colors%20and%20sun%20in%20the%20village.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.ronforhomes.com/frames/images/coto/Photo%20album/fall%20colors%20and%20sun%20in%20the%20village.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to much more of it!&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I am going to go meet a beagle dog to see if I want to adopt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided that Will Feral&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNwZokDTl_I/AAAAAAAAACA/w0_tVWJePwc/s1600-h/willll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250099450270160882" style="WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" height="94" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNwZokDTl_I/AAAAAAAAACA/w0_tVWJePwc/s200/willll.jpg" width="111" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; needs a friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He watches Animal Planet all day and I am pretty sure he is tired of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beagle dog is 8mos old and needs a loving home.&lt;br /&gt;I am debating whether mine is the right one for him.&lt;br /&gt;I am the girl at Starbucks or White Rock eyeing someone else's pet.&lt;br /&gt;I envy those that sip and read with their trusty canine friend at their feet.&lt;br /&gt;Or the girl running with puppy in tow. Seems like a lifestyle I would enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;We will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world I have to find..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I love my job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-5618772736188735457?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5618772736188735457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=5618772736188735457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5618772736188735457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/5618772736188735457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/weather-this-week-has-been-glorious.html' title='Going to meet a Beagle dog.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNwcCjuXiYI/AAAAAAAAACI/mWJZPrEizkI/s72-c/led.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-3445438532096755775</id><published>2008-09-16T15:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T15:44:45.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call me Left Eye.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNAyGnQ0kzI/AAAAAAAAABo/0OxDUCBu3_I/s1600-h/04-tlc-082707.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246748655086768946" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNAyGnQ0kzI/AAAAAAAAABo/0OxDUCBu3_I/s200/04-tlc-082707.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have a steye in my ... Left Eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My eye is swollen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lovely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I spent an hour and a half at CVS trying to choose a remedy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nothing is working.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yuck.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On a much brighter and less disgusting note, I picked a Halloween costume!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNAyx-2sc2I/AAAAAAAAABw/9AtKpiOTV6U/s1600-h/cabaret.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246749400154010466" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNAyx-2sc2I/AAAAAAAAABw/9AtKpiOTV6U/s200/cabaret.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I CAN'T WAIT!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Watch out Liza!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;AlSO. SMU just flew out the window yesterday. As did my happiness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I thought I would be able to start fresh, from scratch, no classes, no college credits. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Therefore, no transcripts. WRONG.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was quite persistent after that news... and was actually able to speak with the Dean of UNT...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of which I owe $5,466.15 directly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Long story short, I was really sick my freshman year, was in teh hospital for a week, and still sick after. Didnt take out loans I promised to... forgetting about the short term money the school loaned me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I did my best to stick it out during my freshman year... having no knowledge that I could withdraw midsemester. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Apparently had I given up and done that, the school could write off my debt and grades... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but nope. I was a trooper. It bit me in the ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Woops.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Live and learn, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BUT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I get by with a little help from my friends.."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Jules is helping me budget.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hampton is helping me start an etsy store, and having craft night w me so I can stay productive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will hopefully pay this off, and then I can go to school! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;***I am accepting donations***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am off to Luke's Eric Roberson sign making party. &lt;/div&gt;                                                                        &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNA2C4rpzjI/AAAAAAAAAB4/byf2rVAsUJY/s1600-h/Ericroberson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246752989089746482" style="WIDTH: 112px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" height="137" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNA2C4rpzjI/AAAAAAAAAB4/byf2rVAsUJY/s200/Ericroberson.jpg" width="108" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Labor in exchange for food and beer. Brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Of course I'll work for food. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;love, taylor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-3445438532096755775?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3445438532096755775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=3445438532096755775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/3445438532096755775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/3445438532096755775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-call-me-left-eye.html' title='Just call me Left Eye.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SNAyGnQ0kzI/AAAAAAAAABo/0OxDUCBu3_I/s72-c/04-tlc-082707.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-6646479734882443658</id><published>2008-09-06T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T20:51:41.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For Goodness' sake, Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Listening to: Viva la Vida by Coldplay.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was... long.&lt;br /&gt;5225 Maple is being audited...&lt;br /&gt;I volunteered to help out, so I worked on my day off.&lt;br /&gt;Excel can...&lt;strong&gt;bug off&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was exhausted when I got home, fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Mom called and woke me up, and I had nothing to do really,&lt;br /&gt;so I picked up a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of six that I am reading.&lt;br /&gt;If only I could finish &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just began &lt;em&gt;Blue Like Jazz&lt;/em&gt; by Donald Miller.&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know, I am a little behind... but I am catching up.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying it, it's definitely an easy read. His style is entertaining, not so dry.&lt;br /&gt;As far as his views on Christianity and the whole bit, ... well, we will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding myself still very torn between the relationship I once had with the Church,&lt;br /&gt;and the less Fundamental views I have recently begun molding to.&lt;br /&gt;I realize it takes time. But this state of Limbo is a bit uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;Not that I believe for one second, that I am on this earth to feel &lt;em&gt;comfortable&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Religion itself is a game of Russian Roulette...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is just so much out there... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to read to even &lt;strong&gt;begin&lt;/strong&gt; to grasp where I stand on the basic issues of the Church.&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel I am well rounded or well read enough to make an educated stance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm getting there.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways,&lt;br /&gt;My whole point of bringing up today's events was to get into what happened as I was reading.&lt;br /&gt;Its not often I can appreciate silence... or tolerate it for very long.&lt;br /&gt;No matter how necessary it is- which I believe it to be very much so...&lt;br /&gt;I am absolutely terrified of it. (That's another blog for another day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, however, I was enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;And then it was interrupted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Figures.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what happened next still leaves my stomach unsettled hours later.&lt;br /&gt;I heard my neighbors arguing.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you're thinking, yeah, yeah... okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are of an asian ethnicity, and were yelling in their own language.&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking through the bathroom to pinpoint the noise... I froze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart began to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deeply.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What started out as a dull throb, quickly grew to a sharp and numbing sensation.&lt;br /&gt;It literally hurt for these people. And not just this family, but for all of humanity.&lt;br /&gt;Its been a long while since I have been involved in a three-way family argument.&lt;br /&gt;Years I'd say. Sure, I deal with my mother multiple times a week over the phone, ...&lt;br /&gt;but this... this was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to run over to them, shake them and remind them how fleeting this life really is, how fragile we are. LOVE. For goodness' sake... &lt;strong&gt;LOVE&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure if it was the language they were speaking in, or the actual words they were saying... but something about this argument... these words... they were &lt;em&gt;razor&lt;/em&gt; sharp.&lt;br /&gt;So sharp, I could feel them cutting in... deeper and deeper. With their double edged tongues, they kept going. You could hear the hurt in their voices. If only I could understand what they were saying... then again, did I really want to know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to pull away from the wall- yes, at this point I was eagerly and nosily pressed up against the wall. Typical woman. I can totally see Kerri doing the same thing. She meddles almost as much as I do. I love it. I couldn't leave... eventually I was feeling so burnt out and  hopeless I had to. I rushed out of my apartment, for if I heard any more, I might have actually knocked on their door to mediate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it really hit me. We spend so much energy in these heated moments... for what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt awful. I was reminded of all the awful things I have said to people I love.&lt;br /&gt;It is never simply the words said, but how  they are said. I can be a cruel, cruel woman.&lt;br /&gt;I have been. On too many an occasion. Our hearts are so delicate... branded with scars from the journey... I should have held my tongue. Shut my mouth. Stopped thinking about my damn self for one stinking moment and sat and looked at the person I loved so much, that I was so quickly tearing to shreds.&lt;br /&gt;Who am I anyway?&lt;br /&gt;You are golden.&lt;br /&gt;You're a marigold... I am weeds.&lt;br /&gt;Especially with that mouth of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you happen to be reading this... and I have snorted off to you at some point or another.&lt;br /&gt;Forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;Life is too short.&lt;br /&gt;I do love each and every one of you &lt;strong&gt;DEARLY.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe next time... I will remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope they resolved their issues, whatever they may be.&lt;br /&gt;And I hope at the end of the day... when the silence takes us over,&lt;br /&gt;love will lie heavy on our hearts. Not the circumstancial kind, or the&lt;br /&gt;self satisfying kind...&lt;br /&gt;but the love he showed us.&lt;br /&gt; And as we lie there... to remember..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't deserve a single ounce.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will try to &lt;em&gt;give, &lt;strong&gt;give&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;give&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how it was supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;That&lt;/em&gt; I am sure of.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-6646479734882443658?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6646479734882443658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=6646479734882443658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/6646479734882443658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/6646479734882443658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-goodness-sake-love.html' title='For Goodness&apos; sake, Love.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-2928010582053485633</id><published>2008-09-06T19:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T19:36:29.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SMM-AtEX-WI/AAAAAAAAABg/1LDx7gLPmzw/s1600-h/Gentoo-Penguin-pair-holding-hands_644849.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243102573008255330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SMM-AtEX-WI/AAAAAAAAABg/1LDx7gLPmzw/s200/Gentoo-Penguin-pair-holding-hands_644849.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;sooo.... last night was... fun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-2928010582053485633?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2928010582053485633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=2928010582053485633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/2928010582053485633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/2928010582053485633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/sooo.html' title=''/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SMM-AtEX-WI/AAAAAAAAABg/1LDx7gLPmzw/s72-c/Gentoo-Penguin-pair-holding-hands_644849.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-163082665733283456</id><published>2008-09-04T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T09:34:11.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even hurricanes have feelings.</title><content type='html'>Listening to: Here Comes the Sun -The Beatles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Gustav and friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the cool weather.&lt;br /&gt;It really feels nice, and makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;I am able to open my windows in my office,&lt;br /&gt;and it makes my day so much brighter!&lt;br /&gt;However, I think we need to have a chit chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do encourage you guys to take it easy...&lt;br /&gt;Let's not be so dramatic and destructive.&lt;br /&gt;Surely you can find something else to do&lt;br /&gt;with your time. I mean really... is it so&lt;br /&gt;necessary to destroy everything&lt;br /&gt;and put people out of their homes?&lt;br /&gt;How would you feel if I made you leave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think someone has some self esteem issues.&lt;br /&gt;We can talk about this.&lt;br /&gt;Its ok, we have all been there.&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know... you're a bit large...&lt;br /&gt;but you have alot going for you.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe try some yoga for that anger?&lt;br /&gt;Works wonders with me.&lt;br /&gt;It will change your physique, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before it you'll be a whole new....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyways. Just keep it in mind.&lt;br /&gt;And guys... seriously. You know my number.&lt;br /&gt;Next time you're stumbling upon a fit of rage...&lt;br /&gt;Call me. I'll help you with your breathing excercises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Taylor&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-163082665733283456?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/163082665733283456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=163082665733283456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/163082665733283456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/163082665733283456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/even-hurricanes-have-feelings.html' title='Even hurricanes have feelings.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-7807961885584503387</id><published>2008-09-03T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T14:37:27.817-07:00</updated><title type='text'>These times are a changin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL8BferN9sI/AAAAAAAAABA/8MTLjcY3e-E/s1600-h/flaming_Oak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241910131604453058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL8BferN9sI/AAAAAAAAABA/8MTLjcY3e-E/s320/flaming_Oak.jpg" width="139" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can smell it!&lt;br /&gt;FALL!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So excited! There is something about this day... the first cool day after a hot summer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember being a little girl on the playground on this day... It put an extra pep in my step. I get all giddy and girly inside and it makes me antsy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would love nothing more than to go put on a swirly twirly dress, with my fabulous satin ballet flats from Banana and dance around in the street for hours. Skipping, and hopping, twirling about without a care in the world. THAT is what cool weather does to me. I LOVE it. Is it time to go pick out a pumpkin from the patch yet?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also cannot contain my excitement any longer... The Friend's Fall Calendar is officially here! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO many events. This will definitely be my favorite season EVER.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What on earth should I be for Halloween?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL8Dcq27NqI/AAAAAAAAABI/K2wJmPs_MCo/s1600-h/halloween-kid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241912282358429346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL8Dcq27NqI/AAAAAAAAABI/K2wJmPs_MCo/s320/halloween-kid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its not far away, friends... not far at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So much love! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ciao!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-7807961885584503387?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7807961885584503387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=7807961885584503387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/7807961885584503387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/7807961885584503387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/these-times-are-changin.html' title='These times are a changin&apos;'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL8BferN9sI/AAAAAAAAABA/8MTLjcY3e-E/s72-c/flaming_Oak.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-8098798050164823329</id><published>2008-09-03T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T13:35:24.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>66,000 miles.</title><content type='html'>Listening to: Into the Great Wide Open -Tom Petty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt; warning sign &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I missed the good part then I realised&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That I started looking and the bubble burst &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I started looking for excuses &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come on in, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've got to tell you what a state I'm in&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've got to tell you in my loudest tones&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That I started looking for a warning sign &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the truth is I miss you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yeah the truth is &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That I miss you so &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A warning sign &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You came back to haunt me and I realised &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That you were an island and I passed you by&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you were an island to discover &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come on in,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've got to tell you what a state I'm in &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've got to tell you in my loudest tones &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That I started looking for a warning sign&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the truth is I miss you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yeah the truth is &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I miss you so &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I'm tired &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I should not have let you go&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I crawl back into your open arms &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes I crawl back into your open arms&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I crawl back into your open arms &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes I crawl back into your open arms &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;I miss you so very much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;Nights are tricky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;For some reason when I went to pick up my life from the Maxwell's...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;There was a bag of your clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;I haven't been able to get rid of them yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon. Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I can't help but feel as if I made a terrible mistake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL7y6Dr0CcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/zE0yqNKdhs4/s1600-h/gee4992-capserv.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241894095541242306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL7y6Dr0CcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/zE0yqNKdhs4/s320/gee4992-capserv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I took a wrong turn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;And then you took a trip. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Now you're gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;There is so much I would change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&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 do hope you are happy, and feel loved...and safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Its so hard to believe it has been six months. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;It slipped away so quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;It will get better, I know this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I just miss you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I painted my nails a very girly peachy pink last night. You would have noticed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I will see you in my dreams, and hopefully talk tomorrow online for a minute. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I hate that we don't even share the same 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;Just plain dumb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Australia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Pfft.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Who goes there anyways.&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 promise I do hope you are having the time of your life! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Play and sing your heart out lovely! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I can't wait to hear the album. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;So very very proud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-8098798050164823329?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8098798050164823329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=8098798050164823329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/8098798050164823329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/8098798050164823329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/66000-miles.html' title='66,000 miles.'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SL7y6Dr0CcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/zE0yqNKdhs4/s72-c/gee4992-capserv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-1769423616124501262</id><published>2008-08-27T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T12:18:21.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home again, Home again</title><content type='html'>Listening to: Over My Head by The Fray per Pandora----&gt; (amazing)&lt;br /&gt;Home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God it feels good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can breathe.&lt;br /&gt;Sleep soundly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a journey to say the least...&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I will be grabbing the last of my things from Flowermound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bed.&lt;br /&gt;So thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;MY bed.&lt;br /&gt;Even more amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A BIG thank you to all of my wonderful friends, family.&lt;br /&gt;I am only still standing because of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be so nice to finally get my life in order. To have a desk. Files. Room... room to paint... room to create, room to think, room to read, space of my own again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear school calling my name so very shortly... and the thought alone makes me want to cry! (happy tears of course!)&lt;br /&gt;I cannot wait to go back to school. SMU? maybe? It all depends on the kind of scholarships they can offer me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never saw my life the way it has played out thus far...&lt;br /&gt;BUT&lt;br /&gt;it is what it is.&lt;br /&gt;I will love every stinking moment of it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because at the end of the day, its all that's left.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-1769423616124501262?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1769423616124501262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=1769423616124501262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/1769423616124501262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/1769423616124501262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/home-again-home-again.html' title='Home again, Home again'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-3663581650938649528</id><published>2008-07-18T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T11:11:27.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still too close to you...</title><content type='html'>Pearls and swine bereft of me&lt;br /&gt;Long and weary my road has been&lt;br /&gt;I was lost in the cities&lt;br /&gt;Alone in the hills&lt;br /&gt;No sorrow or pity&lt;br /&gt;For leaving I feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not your rolling wheels&lt;br /&gt;I am a highway&lt;br /&gt;I am not your carpet ride&lt;br /&gt;I am the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends and liars&lt;br /&gt;Don't wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'll get on&lt;br /&gt;All by myself&lt;br /&gt;I put millions of miles&lt;br /&gt;Under my heels&lt;br /&gt;And still too close to you&lt;br /&gt;I feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not your rolling wheels&lt;br /&gt;I am the highway&lt;br /&gt;I am not your carpet ride&lt;br /&gt;I am the sky&lt;br /&gt;I am not your blowing wind&lt;br /&gt;I am the lightning&lt;br /&gt;I am not your autumn moon&lt;br /&gt;I am the night&lt;br /&gt;The night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not your rolling wheels&lt;br /&gt;I am the highway&lt;br /&gt;I am not your carpet ride&lt;br /&gt;I am the sky&lt;br /&gt;I am not your blowing wind&lt;br /&gt;I am the lightning&lt;br /&gt;I am not your autumn moon&lt;br /&gt;I am the night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-3663581650938649528?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3663581650938649528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=3663581650938649528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/3663581650938649528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/3663581650938649528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/still-too-close-to-you.html' title='Still too close to you...'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-6002516296032304360</id><published>2008-07-17T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T11:33:37.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Listening to: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motion.&lt;br /&gt;Revolving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Constant&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Blur.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its all gone by so fast, and I find myself standing still for a moment to catch my &lt;strong&gt;breath.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am searching for stability... trusting it will come soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church is finally becoming something familiar.&lt;br /&gt;It has taken time, but I am beginning to feel a sense of &lt;strong&gt;belonging&lt;/strong&gt;, acceptance, dare I say love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than likely, that comfort has been there all along, I was simply too self involved to feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have stumbled upon an amazing group, and learned so much.&lt;br /&gt;I have re-vamped my definition of community...&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;strong&gt;refreshing&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FAMILY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It feels good.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I simply cannot get enough of them.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-6002516296032304360?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6002516296032304360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=6002516296032304360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/6002516296032304360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/6002516296032304360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/listening-to-tom-petty-and.html' title=''/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7704250275340867430.post-7632869583788931143</id><published>2008-07-14T23:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T00:25:14.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Waters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Listening to: Zoe Keating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Here's to five years... I finally put the pen on paper. Being that it has been so long since I have attempted to write &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; worth reading, please- for my sake, go easy on me :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Here goes &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Will anything stop this monotonous drive that keeps the blood &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;flowing&lt;/span&gt; ...the thoughts playing over and over like a tragic play that leaves you unsatisfied with its ending?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I have been treading these dark waters for days...the days turn to weeks, which bend to months and years... still... treading... fighting... and yet for what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;The questions flood my brain... to the brim until they &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;spill&lt;/span&gt; over onto the pages of this un satiating book... I am writing a story... with every tear, every smile, every youthful lighthearted &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;laugh&lt;/span&gt;..  and yet the pages seem empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This heavy novel is lack &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;lustre&lt;/span&gt;.. its missing its plot, the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;meaning &lt;/span&gt;of it all, which might make sense of this disaster called life... 'twere it there.&lt;br /&gt;Nonethe 'less, I fill these pages with the bleeding emotions that compose my aching &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;heart&lt;/span&gt;.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;What is? Why? And how did I find myself here? In this &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;void&lt;/span&gt; of a life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Lacking a meaning for which it thrives... still beats...&lt;br /&gt;a heavy, constant drumming... &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; beating... never ceasing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Was it all truly supposed to be this way? At the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ripe &lt;/span&gt;age of twenty I find myself longing to be picked- fruitful and ready to begin a rich demise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Yet here I lay amongst the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;thriving&lt;/span&gt; leaves and branches of these beautiful oxygen filled and life giving trees. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Beautiful and &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;fleeting&lt;/span&gt;. Sweet but all too soon turned sour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Much like the Russian cigarette that delicately rests between my tired fingers, I am fading all too fast... too soon to be enjoyed.. and too soon tossed aside to burn out alone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I find myself longing for more... unsatisfied with the reality of what is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Does it get better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I smell the sweet air and I feel it against my &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;bare &lt;/span&gt;skin.. yet I can't quite grasp it...the air... I am gasping... treading... treading... &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;treading&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Now the only question left is do I sink or&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; swim&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7704250275340867430-7632869583788931143?l=tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7632869583788931143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7704250275340867430&amp;postID=7632869583788931143' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/7632869583788931143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7704250275340867430/posts/default/7632869583788931143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tay-abbeyroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/deep-waters.html' title='Deep Waters'/><author><name>JoTaylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13236199482466323840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUqPzWuAg0k/SHxSlylbNOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hpydDc1lFfE/S220/tay.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
