<?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-6821313</id><updated>2011-09-01T09:21:17.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Manic Meanderings</title><subtitle type='html'>semi-daily updates on what's going on in my world, along with some random poems and songs and stuff... it's my blog, I'll put what I want in it.  :p</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-109488409495514332</id><published>2004-09-11T02:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-11T02:28:14.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>FUCK THE BACK ROW</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;so Im still sick.  In my boredom, this leads to thoughts of Rocky.  I don't know what it will be like when I go back, I am most certainly not the same person I was when I left, and I am not sure if that change is for the better.  I've lost a lot of my bullshit tolerance, and my ability to smile and nod in the face of things I don't really want to deal with is shot.  This can be both a good thing and a bad thing, but it is certainly not what my old friends are accustomed to seeing in me.  Im more confrontational than I used to be, which oddly enough has actually served me well a few times.  But at rocky, no one is confrontational, its the place to go to be easy going, and forget the bullshit of the rest of the week.  And to wear corsets and fishnets and suck on strangers necks... I miss that.  I havent left a good hickey in months.  It's startin to wear me down.  I want to go to Rocky, I want to experience new casts, and make new friends, but having been gone from BL so long, it seems almost like a betrayal to visit anywhere else.  In case your wondering about the odd line this post has taken, it has a lot to do with me not wanting to think about what day it has just recently become.  I refuse to give in to thinking and dwelling on it all day long.  I think I may just sleep all day so I can miss it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-109488409495514332?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://barelylegal.rhps.org' title='FUCK THE BACK ROW'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/109488409495514332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=109488409495514332' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109488409495514332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109488409495514332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/09/fuck-back-row.html' title='FUCK THE BACK ROW'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-109478625966735021</id><published>2004-09-09T23:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-09T23:17:39.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>purple cows and pink monkeys</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I went to the doctor today.  I have pneumonia, and asthma, and apparently I need to be checked for diabetes.  I knew all of this, but I got medicine for it now.  yay me.  The doctor doesnt want me to start my antibiotics until she runs a pregnancy test.  I tried to explain to her that that REALLY wasnt necessary, because I certainly don't qualify to be the next woman to achieve immaculate conception.  Oh well, I'll wait.  If it makes her happy, whatever.  It's probably the first time I've ever taken a pregnancy test and not sat whimpering waiting for the results to come back.  Thats nice.  Anyway, I really don't have a whole lot to say.  Mike's gone, and I'm happy.  it's a good thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-109478625966735021?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/109478625966735021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=109478625966735021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109478625966735021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109478625966735021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/09/purple-cows-and-pink-monkeys.html' title='purple cows and pink monkeys'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-109435902415262030</id><published>2004-09-05T01:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-05T00:37:04.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hehehhe its over, and he made me do it</title><content type='html'>Andi: hi&lt;br /&gt;Michael: hi hun&lt;br /&gt;Andi: how are you?&lt;br /&gt;Michael: is everything ok&lt;br /&gt;Andi: why?&lt;br /&gt;Michael: alright stressed out&lt;br /&gt;Michael: missing you&lt;br /&gt;Andi: it happens&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i love you&lt;br /&gt;Andi: love you too&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i just thought something was wrong cause you never tryed to conntact&lt;br /&gt;Michael: me&lt;br /&gt;Andi: how could I&lt;br /&gt;Michael: true&lt;br /&gt;Andi: you told me you'd call the friday after I got back from MO, and never did&lt;br /&gt;Michael: im sorry im just goin through hell here&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i coundnt the drug me to the feild&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i love you hun&lt;br /&gt;Andi: love you too&lt;br /&gt;Michael: 20 more days&lt;br /&gt;Andi: yup&lt;br /&gt;Michael: are you ok baby&lt;br /&gt;Andi: yup&lt;br /&gt;Andi: tired, pissed off&lt;br /&gt;Michael: pissed ofd at what&lt;br /&gt;Andi: lots of things&lt;br /&gt;Michael: me?&lt;br /&gt;Andi: we'll talk about it when your home&lt;br /&gt;Michael: hun tell me know please&lt;br /&gt;Andi: no mike&lt;br /&gt;Michael: honey please tell me&lt;br /&gt;Andi: not now&lt;br /&gt;Michael: ive been goin nuts not being able to talk to you&lt;br /&gt;Andi: I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;Michael: you seem so distant&lt;br /&gt;Michael: what did i do&lt;br /&gt;Andi: if you want to talk about this now, I refuse to feel bad about it.  I would prefer we wait until you are home&lt;br /&gt;Michael: are you breaking up with me/&lt;br /&gt;Andi: can this please wait&lt;br /&gt;Michael: no because i got a job offer but i dont want to not be with you&lt;br /&gt;Michael: hun please tell me&lt;br /&gt;Andi: please wait Mike&lt;br /&gt;Andi: this isnt how I do things&lt;br /&gt;Michael: andi are you leaving me&lt;br /&gt;Michael: please tell me&lt;br /&gt;Michael: cause i wont come back to michigan if you are&lt;br /&gt;Andi: Mike don't make me do this this way&lt;br /&gt;Michael: damn it just tell me&lt;br /&gt;Michael: what i did&lt;br /&gt;Andi: you lied to me Mike, a lot&lt;br /&gt;Andi: and worse than that the lies were so HORRIBLY unbelievable as to completely insult my intelligence&lt;br /&gt;Andi: Im not stupid.  And I dont put up with shit like that&lt;br /&gt;Michael: fine im sorry for all the pain i caused you and you will never hear from me again&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i will never bother you again&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i wont even come back to michigan&lt;br /&gt;Michael: ill find work somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Michael: say something&lt;br /&gt;Andi: like what mike its done&lt;br /&gt;Michael: fine tell mike and bonnie thank you for me&lt;br /&gt;Andi: I havent spoken to them since last time you were here&lt;br /&gt;Michael: im not comeing back ill die in a gutter before i have to come home and face all this pain&lt;br /&gt;Andi: dont think your going to make me whine and forget the bullshit&lt;br /&gt;Michael: itsw my fault i know&lt;br /&gt;Michael: fuck it&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i let the best thing in my life go&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i didnt deserve you anyways&lt;br /&gt;Michael: im sorry andi&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i will always love you&lt;br /&gt;Andi: Did you think I wouldnt figure it out mike?&lt;br /&gt;Andi: Whats worse is I gave you a FUCKING CHANCE to come clean&lt;br /&gt;Andi: I TOLD you what I knew, and if you'd just been honest with me then I would have dropped it&lt;br /&gt;Andi: but you covered it with more lies&lt;br /&gt;Michael: well i guess i will never have a chance at getting you back&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i did im sorry&lt;br /&gt;Andi: no, you wont&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i cant take it back&lt;br /&gt;Michael: and i want you to tell my dad and mom that i love them&lt;br /&gt;Michael: cause im not coming home&lt;br /&gt;Andi: you tell them Mike, this is your choice&lt;br /&gt;Michael: i dont want to let them down again and come home&lt;br /&gt;Michael: im going to arkansas if you ever want to find me&lt;br /&gt;Andi: thats your choice too&lt;br /&gt;Michael: but i doubt you will&lt;br /&gt;Michael: it is and its best for everyone&lt;br /&gt;Michael: im sorry im going to leave you alone now&lt;br /&gt;Andi: okies, bbye&lt;br /&gt;Yahoo! Messenger:  luckycowboy83 has logged out. (9/5/2004 12:14 AM)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-109435902415262030?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/109435902415262030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=109435902415262030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109435902415262030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109435902415262030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/09/hehehhe-its-over-and-he-made-me-do-it.html' title='hehehhe its over, and he made me do it'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-109427251231644613</id><published>2004-09-04T01:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-04T00:35:12.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>yay fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;School started again today.  Algebra is really no way to start the school year off, but at least this class is mostly review for me.  Can you say "easy A"?  Haven't heard from Mike in weeks, and I guess it's making what I know I have to do that much easier not to talk to him.  I don't even know now what I would say to him if he did talk to me.  I wouldn't want to answer his professions of love in the customary manner simply because I just don't feel that way anymore.  It's a hard situation, and one I'm glad that I don't have to face at the moment.  I haven't been doing anything real interesting.  Cris got a car, and she's thrilled.  Im happy for her.  I know it's been stressing her out trying to save up and find one, and she found a good one.  She also told me it will make it to Rocky, which is a definite plus.  I don't know for sure though if I want to go to this other cast,  Barely Legal was my home for so long that having my return to Rocky anywhere else seems almost Sacreligous.  Oh well, if Cris wants to go, and is serious about it, I'm all for it.  I'm not one to turn down Rocky.  That's really about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-109427251231644613?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/109427251231644613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=109427251231644613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109427251231644613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109427251231644613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/09/yay-fun.html' title='yay fun'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-109393200163921654</id><published>2004-08-31T01:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-31T02:00:01.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>lies and more lies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I haven't written in forever, not sure why except that it hasn't really occurred to me that I should.  I haven't had anything positive to say.  To be honest I still don't but I figure who better to take it out on than an audience of strangers.  Mr. Perfect has fallen from grace, but I don't think he's aware of it yet.  He has told me so many lies in the past month and a half that I now doubt everything he has told me.  Some people are willing to look past this, but the things that he told me were so obviously lies that it insults my intelligence.  I am not the kind of person who is willing to accept being lied to.  I don't want to hear it if it isnt true, and I'm easygoing enough that as long as it's true I dont much care what a person did or didn't do, especially if I love them.  I have however fallen out of love, the only problem is I am not the kind of person who writes dear John letters, or makes the phone calls that can break hearts.  It's something I think should be done in person, out of respect and a small measure of compassion.  I just don't know what is worse, continuing to let him think that all is well for the next month before I can see him, or writing that awful Dear John.  Im starting school again this week, and I hope that this semester brings with it some friendly faces.  Moving to a new part of the country once you're out of high school is never easy, and it makes developing a social life very difficult.  I don't know how long I can tolerate being here.  I do now have a very real option of moving to my dads, and I consider it more and more everyday.  I just don't want to leave my mom to deal with BS here on her own. I don't know what to do.  I know what to do, in general, where mike is concerned.  I don't want to hurt him, but I will not tolerate being lied to.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;     I had a good visit with my dad last month.  We went to Niagara Falls, and I finally sat him down and told him everything that was on my mind.  I also had a good conversation with Carol, and pretty much resolved the problem that she and I have nurtured for the past 5 years.  a 2 week visit can't solve five years of animosity, but it seems to have made a dent.  I realize now that it isn't real likely my dad will leave her and stay gone, and it isnt in anyone's best interest for she and I to actively hate eachother.  I guess maybe I'm growing up, or at least doing a better job at faking it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-109393200163921654?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/109393200163921654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=109393200163921654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109393200163921654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/109393200163921654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/08/lies-and-more-lies.html' title='lies and more lies'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108848279723890560</id><published>2004-06-29T00:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-29T00:19:57.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP Nick</title><content type='html'>Family, friends remember Napa teen&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, June 16, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By CHRIS TRIBBEY&lt;br /&gt;Register City Editor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Napa police work on reconstructing the accident that killed Napa High student Nick Gruenhagen last week, family and friends of the 16-year-old wrestler remembered a vibrant young man who liked "anything powered by gas" and stayed involved in a variety of Napa community activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There wasn't one person I could name that didn't like him," said 23-year-old Levi Gruenhagen, Nick's brother. "The last time I saw him, I told him I'd wrestle him. I never did. Now, I'd just tell him I love him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The accident occurred Friday morning on Lincoln Avenue, when Gruenhagen's new motorcycle slammed into the side of a car driven by 69-year-old Napan Analee Chambless, who was treated at Queen of the Valley Hospital over the weekend for multiple lacerations to her face, torso and wrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Levi Gruenhagen said Nick had bought the motorcycle two weeks before the accident, and Nick had convinced his parents to let him buy it after saving up several months worth of paychecks from his job at Cinedome Theaters. "He put down the down payment and paid for the insurance. He wanted to pay for it, but (his parents) put the rest on credit," Levi Gruenhagen said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He added that a week before the accident, Nick was pulled over on the bike in Napa for driving more than 100 mph in a 25 mph zone, but got off with a warning. "I would have given him a ticket," Levi Gruenhagen said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napa Police officials could not be reached for comment Tuesday afternoon. It is not yet clear whether excessive speed had anything to do with the fatal accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick loved cars, bikes and planes, both big and small, Levi Gruenhagen said. Nick had just gotten his private pilot's license, and planned on spending the summer riding dirt bikes, building model cars, and working on his most prized possession: a 1963 Nash Metropolitan car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He loved that car more than anything," Levi Gruenhagen said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends and family of the 16-year-old who loved speed and fitness are honoring him this week, painting "RIP Nick" on their car windows, to let the community know how much he will be missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napa High wrestling head coach Gil Schmidt notified Nick's teammates about his death over the weekend, and said several may attend his funeral Friday. "The family was always there to support us. Now we'll be there to support him," Schmidt said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembered a vibrant teen who tried hard at everything he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We lost a family member," Schmidt said. "You get really close to these kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Schmidt said that no one on the team was surprised when the teen got his new motorcycle, a Honda 600 F4 I. "Riding a bike was not unique for him. He liked vehicles," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick had been working at Cinedome for less than six months, according to coworkers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He was a guy who acted nice around everybody. He tried harder than he needed to fit in," said Napa High graduate Peter Stonis, who worked with Nick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stonis and other employees at Cinedome remembered Nick being very excited about his new motorcycle, which he rode to work nearly every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He was waiting a long time for that bike. And it took a lot out of his family (financially) to get it for him," Stonis said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cinedome employee Stephanie Reynolds said she'll remember Nick as a very charismatic young man who made others around him happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He always made me laugh. And he was nice looking," she said with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick Gruenhagen attended West Park Elementary School, Redwood Middle School and was going to be a senior at Napa High next year. He played in the Napa Youth Soccer League, Napa Recreation Basketball League, Napa Saints Pop Warner Football League, and was on the Napa High football team during his sophomore year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was also a member of the Napa High Concert Choir, and planned to attend U.T.I. Technical School in Arizona after he graduated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The county coroner completed the autopsy of Nick on Monday, determining that the teen died due to multiple traumatic injuries to his chest, according to sheriff's Capt. Mike Loughran. It will take up to three weeks before the county gets back toxicology reports to determine if he had any drugs or alcohol in his system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"About the only thing he drank was Gatorade. He didn't smoke cigarettes, wouldn't touch drugs ... he wasn't into any of that," Levi Gruenhagen said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A candlelight vigil for Nick Gruenhagen will be held tonight at 8:30 at the Napa High School quad. His funeral service will be held Friday at First Christian Church, 2659 First St. in Napa, at 11 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napa Police are still looking for witnesses to the accident. Anyone with information is asked to call 257-9554.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108848279723890560?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108848279723890560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108848279723890560' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108848279723890560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108848279723890560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/rip-nick.html' title='RIP Nick'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108822640748636478</id><published>2004-06-26T01:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:06:47.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mood Swings</title><content type='html'>wow... it certainly is entertaining to read through my blog when I can point out exactly where the mood swings happened.  Sometimes there are several within the same post, and I'm sittin back thinking... "Wow... was a menstrual that day, or was that a manic moment?"  of course it could be both.  Really not much I want to talk about here.  My daddy issues are continuing, but I don't see the need to subject anyone else to it any more than I already have. So I guess I will leave it at that for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108822640748636478?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108822640748636478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108822640748636478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108822640748636478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108822640748636478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/mood-swings.html' title='Mood Swings'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108797049952920781</id><published>2004-06-23T01:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:07:51.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy Issues</title><content type='html'>I have come to the conclusion that my father was put on this earth to create lives and then make sure that they are rather thoroughly fucked up.  He's good at it too.  Not one of his five children, myself included, has managed to reach adulthood without some serious, and I mean SERIOUS, issues.  I think my oldest brother and I have it the worst, as far as issues that are obviously daddy related.  Sean hates dad.  Won't talk to him, at all.  Wrote him a letter detailing exactly what kind of piece of shit he is and ended it with a demand not to contact him or his children.  Me, I tried the same general thing. Wrote several "don't talk to me" letters I say several because I kept breaking my own decision.  I don't know whats harder, trying to carry on some semblance of a relationship with my father, or not speaking to him at all.  Im not very good at either.  Every promise he has made since I was 14 he has broken.  Yes, all of them.  He's just recently made another, but I just know that one is going to crumble too.  I almost want to tell him nevermind... it hurts less if I break it off before he has the chance, I can't be mad at him for that.  I want to sit down, and have a conversation with his girlfriend, and tell her that I'm done trying to fight her for his love.  She's won.  But I can't find a way to give my speech of defeat without wanting to throw in something horribly catty along the lines of "It must be really great to know that your prize traded his children for you.  A great man, that one is"  I remember when I was 16 years old he sat on his back porch and told me that if he had to, he'd leave her and go back to the west coast, because nothing is more important than his children.  The next time I saw him was more than a year later, when he did.  Although his decision to do so had nothing to do with us, and if it weren't for my drunken aunt, who he was staying with, I don't think I would ever have known he was back.  He sat in her leaving room while I was on the phone with her wanting to know if he was alive because no number I had for him would reach him, and held up his hands to her, mouthing the words "I'm not here"  She broke down in drunken sobs and told him she couldn't lie to this "baby" (that would be me)  and threw the phone at him.  At this point he acted like nothing had happened and made plans to pick me up for the weekend.  When I got there he said he was done with Carol, he was staying on the west coast to watch me grow up.  I was 3 weeks from graduating high school.  2 days after I went home he was on a bus back to Missouri, having left instructions for my aunt not to tell me he'd done it until after he left, and not to tell me his new number at all.  He missed my graduation.  He missed every major milestone in my life.  I took to calling him the day before my birthday to remind him when it was, ever since the first year he was gone and he called the day after, which would have been he and my mom's 19th anniversary.  Even with the 24 hour warning, he usually failed to call anyway.  There hasn't been so much as a birthday card since he left.  I kind of figure now that he's made his choice, and it isn't me.  I don't know why I still try so damned hard to change his mind.  I'm almost 20 years old, and I still cry myself to sleep most nights because my daddy doesn't love me.  That shit has to stop sometime, and I don't know how to make it go away.  It only gets worse.  The extension of that feeling is "my daddy doesn't love me, what makes me think any man can/does/will/should" This thought either leads to long bouts of meaningless one night stands if I'm single, or ending a relationship if Im not.  I don't want what my father has done to control my life, but it does.  It always has.  When I was 11 years old, and he was still daddy, and I was still his little princess, he told me it was my job to make sure he didn't have more than 3 beers a night.  I felt like a failure every time he came home from work and downed a six pack before bed.  He told me when I was 14 that the business trip he went on wasn't a business trip at all, he'd gone to missouri to spend a weekend with a woman he'd met on the internet.  He said he was going to leave my mother after the holidays to be with her, and he was going to take me with him because he loved me.  He left on halloween morning, and when he went to missouri, he didn't take me with him.  My father has lied to me and hurt me all throughout my teens.  And, I'm sure if I allow it, he will continue to do so for the rest of his life.  I don't know if he even knows how badly he has hurt me over the years, or how important he could have been in my life.  I don't even know if he would care if he did know.  He seems to be happy in his new life with carol, and without me.  I just wish I knew how not to be daddy's little girl anymore.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108797049952920781?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108797049952920781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108797049952920781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108797049952920781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108797049952920781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/daddy-issues.html' title='Daddy Issues'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108788359503909885</id><published>2004-06-22T01:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:08:39.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear and Self-Loathing in Waterford</title><content type='html'>I am going through a period of self-loathing at the moment.  It's hard to watch friendships that were nurtured for years crumble because of distance.  A friend of mine in Cali called me a few days ago.  Her fiancee had left her, and apparently everyone saw this coming but her.  Where a good friend would have sat and felt her pain and cried with her, I spent over an hour resisting the urge to tell her to spare her long distance bill and call someone who cares.  Just two days later, another friend called to tell me her husband wants a divorce.  I had to fight the very same urge.  For the same reasons.  No one thought these relationships would work.  All the odds said no.  In both cases, both parties and been unfaithful, and lied, and lets face it, 15 is entirely too young to know who it is you will spend your life with. If I had settled down with the man I was with at fifteen, I would be miserable now.  To compound my feeling that I am emotionally betraying these girls who made up so much of my high school years, after a long conversation with my niece I discovered that she is almost exactly the same person I was at her age.  This worries me because I know exactly what kind of person I was in the year that followed.  She is better than that.  I feel bad because I was always around her then, I was her influence, and now that she's making the same mistakes that I did, I can't help but think that this is my fault.  I'm sure her father would agree, but he's blamed every imperfection in her personality on me since she was a baby.  it's my fault she's mouthy, it's my fault she curses, it's my fault she tends to be a bit bitchy (that is Seanspeak for outspoken)  But from what she tells me it isn't just my influence, but her father as well.  She is developing the same kind of issues I had (have)  Sean has a new toy, and doesn't pay as much attention to her as he should.  But I know what daddy issues lead to too.  This doesnt look good, and from half a continent away, I don't know what I can do.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108788359503909885?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108788359503909885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108788359503909885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108788359503909885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108788359503909885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/fear-and-self-loathing-in-waterford.html' title='Fear and Self-Loathing in Waterford'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108736077114604291</id><published>2004-06-16T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:09:17.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Technical Diffuculties</title><content type='html'>Ok, haven't written in a while... I assure whoever is out there in blogger land, I was not intentionally neglecting you, I was the victim of technical difficulties. This situation has been remedied, and I am now trying to figure out if I have anything worth while to say... well I have 4 tickets to montgomery gentry friday night, and no one to go with, this is because one stepsister is working, I can't get ahold of the other, and I don't really know anyone else.   I hate bein the new kid... it isnt usually this hard to give away concert tickets.  I know people who are going but the problem is I only get along with one of them, and he's with the others... that and with rumors flying about my supposed past "relations" with this man, it would not do for me to be spending time with him.  I don't want to give Mike ANY reason to think Im doing a single thing in his absence that I wouldn't do with him standing beside me.  My sister and I have adopted 4 baby field mice, which we must feed every few hours.  ahh the joys of infant animals.  but they are SO adorable.  really, very very very very very very very very very cute.  that's pretty much it. Mike will be home the 28th.. Im very excited.  yay!  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108736077114604291?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108736077114604291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108736077114604291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108736077114604291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108736077114604291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/technical-diffuculties.html' title='Technical Diffuculties'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108676473084483203</id><published>2004-06-09T03:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:09:46.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolution</title><content type='html'>I've been slacking... all is well, I am happy and healthy and still very much in love.  Im also very tired.. I just thought I should do at least enough follow up on the last post to clarify that nothing has changed between mike and I, we are fine.  as far as the bar goes, I should be able to go back, they just want me to lay low for a little bit. so yeah... crisis over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108676473084483203?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108676473084483203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108676473084483203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108676473084483203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108676473084483203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/resolution.html' title='Resolution'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108649767082299572</id><published>2004-06-06T00:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:10:24.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Underage Drinking and Waitress Licking</title><content type='html'>Every minute of every day, something can happen to change your world.  Sometimes the change is for the best, sometimes not.  Sometimes it's permanent, and sometimes only a temporary inconvenience.  This has been a weekend of those moments.  At two separate occasions, by two separate people, I have been told something that made my heart drop to my toes.  I've lost my social outlet, and I'm afraid I may be losing something infinitely more important than that.  I can't go to my bar anymore.  They got caught selling to minors, and even though I have never so much as taken a sip of alcohol at that bar, I can't go back.  Mike told me today that he may have done something bad.  He said he didn't kiss someone else, or sleep with them.  He just did a few body shots off of a waitress at the bar.  OK, so he didn't kiss her, he just licked alcohol off of her.  That makes it all fucking better doesn't it?  How can someone do that if they actually love a person?  I haven't so much as danced with anyone else since he's been gone, and he's using some chick as a shot glass.  Maybe I'm overreacting.  Part of me wants to say... well at least he told me about it, he didn't have to, I would never have known.  And then I wonder if he was just trying to see what my reaction would be, find out what he could get away with.  But that is one hell of a risk to take to test a boundary.  Those who know me best are well aware that I am a jealous little bitch, and as a result of most of my boyfriends cheating on me, incredibly suspicious and terrified of having the same thing happen again.  Tim got away with it for five months, until he messed up and got one of the others pregnant.  Casper never really got away with it, because invariably the other woman would show up on my doorstep at 2 am looking for a fight.  Ricky did it the entire time we were together, didn't bother to hide it.  Of course I was so afraid of getting my ass kicked that I would never leave.  Larry did it, more than once, and I only really found out about how much long after we were over.  I don't know about Jason, but I doubt it, the boy was a puppy, and really didn't have a whole lot of friends.  At all.  Paul did, with Anne.  Seth did, with Anne's friend Crystal.  I don't think short mike did, just because, well, the boy hasn't been laid in more than 2 years, and there's a reason.  I don't think Chris did.  We were together every day, he wouldn't have had a whole lot of time.  Orion... I don't know or care.  I know Garrett didn't, I don't think he ever would do anything like that to anyone.  I don't know why I felt the need to make a list.  Maybe I'm just dwelling on something I should be trying to forget.  I just know I'm hurt, and scared, and confused.  I don't know what, if anything, I should do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108649767082299572?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108649767082299572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108649767082299572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108649767082299572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108649767082299572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/underage-drinking-and-waitress-licking.html' title='Underage Drinking and Waitress Licking'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108641669495219503</id><published>2004-06-05T02:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:10:46.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pissy</title><content type='html'>I don't really want to talk right now.  It wouldn't really make a difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108641669495219503?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108641669495219503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108641669495219503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108641669495219503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108641669495219503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/pissy.html' title='Pissy'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108632674540863104</id><published>2004-06-04T01:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:11:23.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Commitment by LeeAnn Rimes</title><content type='html'>What I'm lookin' for&lt;br /&gt;Is a love that's forever&lt;br /&gt;Someone who can capture my soul in a heartbeat&lt;br /&gt;And stay for all time&lt;br /&gt;What I'm prayin' for&lt;br /&gt;Is a match made in Heaven&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will worship my body&lt;br /&gt;And still put his heart on the line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;Commitment&lt;br /&gt;Someone who'll go the distance&lt;br /&gt;I need somebody with staying power&lt;br /&gt;Who'll make me go weak in the knees&lt;br /&gt;Commitment&lt;br /&gt;And everything that goes with it&lt;br /&gt;I need honor and love in my life from somebody&lt;br /&gt;Who's playin' for keeps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm searchin' for&lt;br /&gt;Is a man who'll stand by me&lt;br /&gt;Who will walk through the fire&lt;br /&gt;And be my flame in the night&lt;br /&gt;I won't settle for&lt;br /&gt;Less than what I deserve&lt;br /&gt;A friend and a lover who'll love me&lt;br /&gt;For the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I've had promises broken&lt;br /&gt;Three words left unspoken&lt;br /&gt;They just left me achin' for more&lt;br /&gt;But I've fought temptation&lt;br /&gt;I won't be impatient&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing that's worth waiting for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;commitment &lt;br /&gt;and everything that goes with it&lt;br /&gt;I need honor and love in my life from somebody&lt;br /&gt;Whos playin for keeps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108632674540863104?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108632674540863104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108632674540863104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108632674540863104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108632674540863104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/commitment-by-leeann-rimes.html' title='Commitment by LeeAnn Rimes'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108623884177291551</id><published>2004-06-03T00:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:12:10.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Boring</title><content type='html'>Today was pretty much just like any other wednesday.  I took my brother to school, went back to sleep til it was time to pick him up from school, made dinner, did dishes, and went to the bar.  But before I went to the bar I talked to mike... he's coming home on leave the 26th! yay!! 3 weeks, and then I can see him. I cant wait.  The bar was dead, I lost miserably at pool, and darts, laughed when Bonnie's Mike sang blue christmas as porky pig, and came home around midnight.  now Im here, writing and talkin with Mike on yahoo... not a whole lot to say I guess.  yup. Im boring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108623884177291551?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108623884177291551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108623884177291551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108623884177291551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108623884177291551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/boring.html' title='Boring'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108615005384975010</id><published>2004-06-02T00:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:13:16.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Piercing dont's and sleep deprivation</title><content type='html'>last night was... interesting.  It began with tryin to pierce my older sister's belly button with a sewing needle (didn't work as planned, we scrapped the idea and shes going to get it pierced at the same time I get my next tat when the taxes come back.) and then I was winding down watchin television at about 2 am when the cell phone rang... unexpected of unexpectedness it was my dear friend Steve from Cali.  He was upset when he called, but by the time we hung up (at  6 am... *snore*) his ribs hurt from laughter.  at 7 am I took my lil brother to school, and I actually managed to hold it together and stay awake until 11 am (I think that's from the hour and a half of yoga I did this morning... that shit wakes me up quick) I woke up again at 2:30 to pick my bro up from school, came home, did dishes, watched Signs, ate dinner, went and got ice cream, did dishes again, got some cheat codes my lil bro wanted for Vice City, watched TV, and now Im back online blogging to kill time in hopes that mike signs on.  I haven't talked to him today at all, I was so spaced out that everytime I thought of calling him I got side tracked, and then there was the time I realized it was 7:30 am when I wanted to call him. Im sure he wouldn't appreciate his phone ringin at 6:30 in the morning, nor do I think his roommates would be real receptive to the idea... so basically Im rambling at this point.  I guess that means I should stop subjecting you, my dear readers, to this continued blahness.  Im tired...  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108615005384975010?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108615005384975010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108615005384975010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108615005384975010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108615005384975010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/06/home-piercing-donts-and-sleep.html' title='Home Piercing dont&apos;s and sleep deprivation'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108605759578874035</id><published>2004-05-31T22:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:14:26.410-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogs- Diaries for everyone to read</title><content type='html'>You know, I didn't honestly think anyone was reading this... not anymore.  What strikes me as odd is that the one person I know for sure has read it in the past few weeks is someone I have never met, or even talked to, although he does apparently live in the same town as I do.  Maybe I would have met him had I gone to school here, and maybe not, but as it stands I have not, nor do I have any reason to believe I ever will.  Ordinarily it would freak me out that a complete stranger knows my innermost thoughts, and admittedly at first it did, but then I caught myself following the link to this strangers blog, and reading his thoughts as well.  I wonder if all this technology is for the best.  It makes me feel like Im 6 years old again, sneaking into my big sisters room to find her diary, and looking over my shoulder to make sure Im not caught. At the same time I see this as a tool, a way to find catharsis and even, occaisionally, receive some needed advice from an unbiased observer.  so, for anyone out there reading who does not know me, and even those who do, comment away. And thank you again, stranger, for giving me reason to continue typing away and an audience to type to.  I am a glutton for attention, shhh dont tell anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108605759578874035?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108605759578874035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108605759578874035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108605759578874035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108605759578874035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/blogs-diaries-for-everyone-to-read.html' title='Blogs- Diaries for everyone to read'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108590334945236481</id><published>2004-05-30T03:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:15:03.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Angel Eyes, as performed by the Jeff Healy Band</title><content type='html'>Girl, you're looking fine tonight,&lt;br /&gt;and every guy has got you in his sights&lt;br /&gt;What you're doing with a clown like me,&lt;br /&gt;is surely one of life's little mysteries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight I'll ask the stars above,&lt;br /&gt;"How did I ever win your love?"&lt;br /&gt;What did I do?&lt;br /&gt;What did I say,&lt;br /&gt;to turn your angel eyes my way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm the guy who never learned to dance,&lt;br /&gt;never even got one second glance&lt;br /&gt;Across a crowded room was close enough,&lt;br /&gt;I could look but I could never touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight I'll ask the stars above,&lt;br /&gt;"How did I ever win your love?"&lt;br /&gt;What did I do?&lt;br /&gt;What did I say,&lt;br /&gt;to turn your angel eyes my way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't anyone wake me,&lt;br /&gt;if it's just a dream&lt;br /&gt;'Cause she's the best thing,&lt;br /&gt;that's ever happened to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All you fellows, you can look all you like,&lt;br /&gt;but this girl, you see, she's leavin' here with me tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's just one more thing that I have to know,&lt;br /&gt;if this is love why does it scare me so?&lt;br /&gt;It must be something only you can see,&lt;br /&gt;'cause girl I feel it when you look at me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight I'll ask the stars above,&lt;br /&gt;"How did I ever win your love?"&lt;br /&gt;What did I do?&lt;br /&gt;What did I say,&lt;br /&gt;to turn your angel eyes my way?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108590334945236481?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108590334945236481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108590334945236481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108590334945236481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108590334945236481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/angel-eyes-as-performed-by-jeff-healy.html' title='Angel Eyes, as performed by the Jeff Healy Band'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108563728269777864</id><published>2004-05-27T01:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:15:54.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay for Mike</title><content type='html'>I know I know, it's been a week.  Bad Andi.  Anyway... All is well with me, life is good.  Mike never ceases to amaze me.  I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him, but more importantly I can't see myself spending the rest of my life without him. I finally found what I've been looking for all my life, and there is no way in hell I am going to let him go.  Things are great at home, and at the bar.  School is out for the summer, and I look forward to Mike's visit at the end of June.  Im supposed to go to my dad's sometime in July, but it will have to be after mike goes back to oklahoma.  I am not missing any time with him.  After that hopefully I get to go to oklahoma in August to see him again.  and then who knows.  Im actually happy, which is wonderful and amazing and a little scary all at once.  It's a new experience for me to be with someone who occupies ALL of my waking thoughts.  Tim came close, but those thoughts were more along the lines of worrying about who else he was sleeping with.  So I guess the new experience is being with someone who pleasantly occupies all of my waking thoughts.  yup, that's it.  I am insanely happy.  That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108563728269777864?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108563728269777864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108563728269777864' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108563728269777864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108563728269777864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/yay-for-mike.html' title='Yay for Mike'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108511179822778564</id><published>2004-05-20T23:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:16:32.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah</title><content type='html'>not much going on with me... all quiet on the homefront so to speak.  Im actually in a happy relationship, which is a pretty cool situation, although doesn't make for a whole lot of news, things are going well with family, my grades were basically good, all is well at the bar.  It's a good week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108511179822778564?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108511179822778564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108511179822778564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108511179822778564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108511179822778564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/blah.html' title='Blah'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108485632440938431</id><published>2004-05-18T00:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:17:12.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy  By Big and Rich</title><content type='html'>Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy&lt;br /&gt;~Big and Rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;(intro)&lt;br /&gt;DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DE-DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DAA-DAAAAA&lt;br /&gt;DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DE-DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DAA-DAA-DAA-DAA-DAAAA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I walk into the room&lt;br /&gt;Passing out hundred dollar bills&lt;br /&gt;And it kills and it thrills like the horns on my Silverado grill&lt;br /&gt;And I buy the bar a double round of crown&lt;br /&gt;And everybody's getting down &lt;br /&gt;An' this town ain't never gonna be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus:)&lt;br /&gt;Cause I saddle up my horse&lt;br /&gt;and I ride into the city&lt;br /&gt;I make a lot of noise&lt;br /&gt;Cause the girls&lt;br /&gt;They are so pretty&lt;br /&gt;Riding up and down Broadway&lt;br /&gt;on my old stud Leroy&lt;br /&gt;And the girls say&lt;br /&gt;Save a horse, ride a cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody says&lt;br /&gt;Save a horse, Ride a cowboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I don't give a dang about nothing&lt;br /&gt;I'm singing and Bling- Blanging&lt;br /&gt;While the girls are drinking&lt;br /&gt;Long necks down!&lt;br /&gt;And I wouldn't trade ol' Leroy&lt;br /&gt;or my Chevrolet for your Escalade&lt;br /&gt;Or your freak parade&lt;br /&gt;I'm the only John Wayne left in this town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I saddle up my horse&lt;br /&gt;and I ride into the city&lt;br /&gt;I make a lot of noise&lt;br /&gt;Cause the girls&lt;br /&gt;They are so pretty&lt;br /&gt;Riding up and down Broadway&lt;br /&gt;on my old stud Leroy&lt;br /&gt;And the girls say&lt;br /&gt;Save a horse, ride a cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody says&lt;br /&gt;Save a horse, Ride a cowboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Spoken:)&lt;br /&gt;I'm a thourough-bred&lt;br /&gt;that's what she said&lt;br /&gt;in the back of my truck bed&lt;br /&gt;As I was gettin' buzzed on suds&lt;br /&gt;Out on some back country road.&lt;br /&gt;We where flying high&lt;br /&gt;Fining, whine, having ourselves a good and rich time&lt;br /&gt;And I was going, just about as far as she'd let me go.&lt;br /&gt;But her evaluation&lt;br /&gt;of my cowboy reputation&lt;br /&gt;Had me begging for slavation&lt;br /&gt;all night long&lt;br /&gt;So I took her out kicking frogs&lt;br /&gt;Introduced her to my old bird dog&lt;br /&gt;And sang her every Wilie Nelson song I could think of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we made love&lt;br /&gt;And I saddled up my horse&lt;br /&gt;and I ride into the city&lt;br /&gt;I make a lot of noise&lt;br /&gt;Cause the girls&lt;br /&gt;They are so pretty&lt;br /&gt;Riding up and down Broadway&lt;br /&gt;on my old stud Leroy&lt;br /&gt;And the girls say&lt;br /&gt;Save a horse, ride a cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody says&lt;br /&gt;Save a horse, Ride a cowboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? What?&lt;br /&gt;Save A Horse Ride A Cowboy&lt;br /&gt;Everybody says&lt;br /&gt;Save a Horse Ride a cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108485632440938431?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108485632440938431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108485632440938431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108485632440938431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108485632440938431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/save-horse-ride-cowboy-by-big-and-rich.html' title='Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy  By Big and Rich'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108485575990847447</id><published>2004-05-18T00:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:18:02.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishing and The HoeDown</title><content type='html'>Ok, some follow up on my insane and unreasonable moment of jealousy... It was, as I said it probably was, completely unfounded (once again, thank you Tim, for my suspicion issues)  He was fishing with friends.  It was so good to hear his voice last night it didnt even occur to me to get pissed off about waking up to that obnoxious ringtone at 1 am... I was only half asleep anyway, and worried like you wouldn't believe about what was going on with him... I had no trouble fallin asleep after the call.  So, crisis out of the way I can talk about the fun shit I did... I went to hoedown, Kid Rock showed up, sang one song, and you'd have thought God descended on the stage and told all present they had a reserved space in heaven, those people freaked out like you wouldn't believe.  Now I understand he's from the area, and therefore the hometown hero, but ya know... that was just insane.  Tracy Byrd put on a good show, so did Buddy Jewell... Josh Turner just kinda stood there, but thats ok cuz hes hot and has the most amazing voice (yup yup, swoon over the tenors, go home with the basses).  Sorry honey, if you read this... but its an old choir joke.  anyway....  Big and Rich are probably the best performers I have seen in a long time, they just had so much energy and you could tell they REALLY believed in what they were doing... besides, you cant go wrong with a song called save a horse, ride a cowboy.  hehehe I been sayin that for years, bout damn time someone wrote a song to that effect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108485575990847447?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108485575990847447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108485575990847447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108485575990847447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108485575990847447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/fishing-and-hoedown.html' title='Fishing and The HoeDown'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108469258082440328</id><published>2004-05-16T03:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T01:18:43.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear </title><content type='html'>I tried to call Mike at 9:30, and his roommate told me he was gone for the night, and probably into the morning as well... I'm sure I've got no reason for it, but that scares the hell out of me (thank you, Tim, for my horrible tendency towards suspicion)... aside from that there was good news tonight at the bar.  M. decided he wasn't going to go to hoedown, leaving a backstage pass for Tracy Byrd available... so Reggie asked me if I wanted to go... Tracy is my favorite, hell yeah I want to go.  So Im leaving tomorrows soft ball game early and heading to Detroit with Reggie.  I get to meet Tracy Byrd... hehehehehhehehehe this is what a happy Andi looks like... or would be if it weren't for the worrying over Mike thing.  I don't know if it's just that he has duty that is for some reason an overnight thing, or what.. maybe he's just pissed that I didn't call him back last night, I don't know.  I do know that it's scaring the hell out of me... I love him, but I can't seem to get over my fears, especially when he is in Oklahoma and Im here... how would I ever know?  It's driving me nuts, so I think I should just go to bed.  yup, that's what Im gonna do.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108469258082440328?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108469258082440328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108469258082440328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108469258082440328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108469258082440328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/fear.html' title='Fear '/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108466679510499654</id><published>2004-05-15T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T20:19:55.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, last night was interesting.  I was at the bar when I got a phone call from a friend asking if I wanted to go to a small party, ya know, somewhere I can drink.  I agreed and dropped the truck off at home (no drinking and driving for me).  so I got there, had a lil too much to drink, and reached the oh so attractive puking stage... yup, that was nice.  I could barely walk to get back to the car.  When I got home I crawled into the front seat of the suburban and passed out for a couple hours cuz I didn't want to go inside and let my lil brother and sister see me in this condition.  As soon as I did go inside, I just went to bed.  I realized this morning that somewhere in between the battery on the phone dying and my getting puke ass drunk I was supposed to call Mike back... Now I can't even get ahold of him to know if he's pissed that I didn't call.  meanwhile I woke up this morning with my first ever hangover, and then had to clean house like a mad woman cuz the whole family was supposed to come over for my lil brother and sisters birthday.  Only one aunt showed up, but dammit the house was spotless!  I miss mike, and Im terrified that he's mad at me, Lord knows being puke drunk is not a good reason not to call, especially when I really shouldn't have been getting drunk in the first place.  I feel so bad, and it only makes it worse that I havent REALLY gotten to talk to him more than a hi, how are ya? for 2 days.  Im losing it here. *sniff sniff* and I still feel like hell.... Im NEVER getting that drunk again (I know I know, I have said that before, but this time I mean it)  That's all for now, Im gonna head for the bar in a few minutes... I miss Mike.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108466679510499654?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108466679510499654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108466679510499654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108466679510499654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108466679510499654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/ok-last-night-was-interesting.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108450483264267862</id><published>2004-05-13T23:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-13T23:20:32.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I woke up at 6:30 this morning... anyone who knows me probably had to reread that, and then assumed it's a typo, but it is not.  Of course I passed out again at about 11, but that was completely unintentional.  I miss Mike.  I got an email from my best friend's fiancee.. that was odd, I haven't heard from him in ages... he wanted to know pretty much everything that has gone on since I left Napa, has decided that he approves of Mike, and wants me to go back to California.  I want to go back too, just not to live, I told him this, and he wasn't happy.  We'll see what happens.  That's about all, it has been a boring day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108450483264267862?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108450483264267862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108450483264267862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108450483264267862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108450483264267862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-woke-up-at-630-this-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108434917962762502</id><published>2004-05-12T04:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-14T00:48:53.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why aint I running&lt;br /&gt;~Garth Brooks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear that highway calling &lt;br /&gt;As I watch the sunrise crawling across her shoulder &lt;br /&gt;This is usually goodbye &lt;br /&gt;And yet those words I just can't find here as I hold her &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's like no other woman &lt;br /&gt;That I have known before &lt;br /&gt;And it ain't me to see the morning sun &lt;br /&gt;From this side of the door &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY AIN'T I RUNNING, WHY AIN'T I GONE &lt;br /&gt;HOW DOES SHE HOLD ME WITHOUT HOLDING ON &lt;br /&gt;IN LOVE OR A FIGHT SHE'S STRONGER THAN STRONG &lt;br /&gt;SOMETHING'S NOT RIGHT IF THERE AIN'T NOTHING WRONG &lt;br /&gt;IT'S GOT ME WONDERING, WHY AIN'T I RUNNING &lt;br /&gt;WHY AIN'T I GONE &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those words I left behind me &lt;br /&gt;Praying they would never find me and my freedom &lt;br /&gt;But if they stood right here beside me &lt;br /&gt;They would never recognize me for all that she's done &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once happiness was only &lt;br /&gt;Whenever I was on my own &lt;br /&gt;So now why do I feel lonely &lt;br /&gt;Any time that I'm alone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repeat Chorus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, they've never built a wall that high &lt;br /&gt;Or made a chain that strong &lt;br /&gt;And God ain't never made a place &lt;br /&gt;I felt like I belong &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repeat Chorus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108434917962762502?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108434917962762502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108434917962762502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108434917962762502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108434917962762502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/why-aint-i-running-garth-brooks-i-can.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108434694668437392</id><published>2004-05-12T03:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T03:29:06.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Talked to my cowboy again, he's amazing... It's kinda hard to believe I feel this way this fast, and those of you who have any business reading this are probably thinking "oh shit, I know whats coming, please tell me Im wrong"  well, your not wrong.  I really think I love him.. hell I know I do.  It's scary to feel like this again, especially after I swore to myself I wouldn't do this.  oh well.  Im doing it.  He's everything I've been looking for, and then some.  The best part is he feels the same way, or at least says he does.  You all know me (all what, 4 of you?), I may not second guess my own feelings, but everyone elses are up for careful scrutiny and fear.  I think that's the biggest thing, Im afraid he's going to be like Tim... and if he were, I would never know.  This isn't napa anymore, I don't have the drama grapevine to hear about it, all I have is the sound of his voice.  And that, I must say, is incredibly soothing. Im not afraid when Im actually talking to him, it's only late at night when Im alone and can't sleep, which is every night.  ahhh the joys of mania.  I want to be with him all the time, but I know that it would be incredibly unwise to take that step now, because to do that, I would have to move to Oklahoma, and I think my mother would lose it.  My sister is worried that he's some kind of psychopath, but that's only because she hasn't met him, and all she really knows about him is that he knew me for 2 days before he asked me to go out to oklahoma to visit.  I guess if we switched places, and she was taking off with some guy she'd just met, I'd be just as scared.  But I know he wouldn't hurt me.  Yesterday was a blast, we went out for a ride on the boat, which was exhilarating, and then we ran out of gas, which was hilarious.  We were almost to our boat lift, and the engine shuts off.  Dad couldn't get it to stay going, so before we drifted out, my sisters just dove into the water with the rope and pulled the boat to the lift, we put it up there manually.  After that with them already soaked, we all just jumped in. My brother and I wound up swimming for almost an hour.  Then the storms started rolling back towards us, and it was time for dinner anyway, so we went in.  It was a great day... I also got to talk to Mike for a couple hours between yahoo and the phone.  I miss him.  I guess that's all for now..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108434694668437392?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108434694668437392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108434694668437392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108434694668437392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108434694668437392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/talked-to-my-cowboy-again-hes-amazing.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108399842036573438</id><published>2004-05-08T02:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-08T02:44:49.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>YAY!!!  talked to my cowboy *dances*  so damn good to hear his voice *dances* goin to see him the 18th *dances hardcore*  I miss the lil bugger... he's scrawny but he's sweet as hell.  The great news about the slight change in travel plans is I get the best of both worlds, a visit with my honey, and I still get to go to the hoedown.  oh yeah... I hella win.  (hehe... I said hella)  I wish you all could meet him (like I could get his republican ass to go to Cali.. hehehe)  I went to the bar after I talked to him tonight, and his uncle was there... and proceeded to refer to me as his future niece in law... oddly enough THAT didnt freak me out either... maybe cuz he was drunk, I dunno.  Im a happy lil monkey.  Thats about all for now.  heheheh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108399842036573438?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108399842036573438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108399842036573438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108399842036573438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108399842036573438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/yay-talked-to-my-cowboy-dances-so-damn.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108390589361182859</id><published>2004-05-07T00:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-07T01:02:41.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I miss Mike...I'm not used to this, not this quick... It's wierd for me.  I havent let go of his wrangler patch since he left.  It's been in my hand or my pocket.... well I don't take it in the shower.  Anyway... we put the boat in the water today... that sucked..  My lil brother is not real good with instructions, so when dad backed up then sped forward (to get the boat off the trailor) my bro started pullin the rope... thus keeping it half on the trailor, and headed toward shore.  so I had to jump in the water to push it out.  as I am sopping wet and pushin for all Im worth, Im think, this is water, shouldnt be so damned hard to push, so I turn around and hes STILL pullin the damned rope.  I told him to let go, or at least give me some slack.  finally he gets the idea, lets go of the rope, and giggles.  I push the damn thing to the next dock so my dad can get in, and start walkin back to the house to change my clothes... wasnt plannin on going for a swim, so I was FULLY dressed.  I walked in the house and my sis beat me there, looks up and says "you goin with us on the boat, or you wanna change first?"  Im standing there, pissed off, dripping on the damned carpet.  "I think I'll change sweetie... Im a lil muddy"  the boat ride was fun tho, that thing has some get up and go... we got a 2 person tube, some rope, and life jackets, so when the weather heats up again we're gonna go tubing.  YAY!  thats about it for now.  I miss mike.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108390589361182859?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108390589361182859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108390589361182859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108390589361182859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108390589361182859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-miss-mike.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108382308844685754</id><published>2004-05-06T01:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-06T02:02:34.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I guess I should do some follow up on the whole going to my dads thing... I told him to shove it, basically, but a little nicer.  It's not that all is better here, but running from my problems only leads to more of them, and burning bridges is never a real good idea.  Things are better here, somewhat.  My dad isn't a real reliable person, I kinda get the feeling it wouldnt have happened anyway, but at least this way its me walking away, not him ultimately letting me down again, even if I know he would have, its not so bad if I dont actually give him the chance, if you can understand that one.  makes perfect sense to me.  SO Im still going to visit this summer, but its a no strings attatched kind of thing, just a visit, hello, nice to see you, maybe we'll get together again in another year. so... yeah, that about covers it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108382308844685754?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108382308844685754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108382308844685754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108382308844685754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108382308844685754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-guess-i-should-do-some-follow-up-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108381298125859531</id><published>2004-05-05T23:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T23:14:07.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I heard from mike today, kind of, I had a couple of IM's thru yahoo from him, nothin major.  Just tellin me he loves me and misses me... oddly enough, that DIDNT freak me out.  I know, I know, Im either losin it, or something is seriously different about this one.  I dont know which one of the two Im betting on just yet, we'll see.  I am just gettin over some kind of stomach bug, nothing too serious, just damned unpleasant, I dont know if it was something I ate, or a new manifestation of the allergic reaction I've been fighting all week.  I just know it sucked.  I sprayed my pillows with Mikes cologne... now I think I might be crackin up.  Fluffy is going to go live with Ron on friday, I cant handle another one of these allergic reactions, its almost been a week and the swelling in my finger isnt going down at all... my eye is better tho. thats nice.  for those who dont know, fluffy is my tarantula, she was great at first, no biting, no hair kicking, but she kicked a bunch of hairs last friday, and I almost think it would have been better if she'd bit me.  It would hurt less in the long run.  Thats all for now, Im obviously rambling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108381298125859531?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108381298125859531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108381298125859531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108381298125859531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108381298125859531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-heard-from-mike-today-kind-of-i-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108349208126063302</id><published>2004-05-02T05:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T03:54:42.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wow, this has certainly been a whirlwind weekend.  Orion and I broke up, not like Im all heartbroken on that one, I never really saw him anyway, but then 6 hours later I was sittin in my bar, talkin to some friends and watching M.'s wife glare at me, when an adorable young man in army greens walked in.  I watched him for a while, and my thought process went as follows "nice ass.... bet he doesnt have to buy himself a drink all night in that outfit.... wonder if I can have him."  about ten minutes later he's standin 3 feet away from me, so I told him to have a seat.  He sat beside me, and neither one of us really said much until after I got up and danced drifter with bonnie.  when I sat back down it was a relatively slow song, and the young soldier introduced himself as Mike.  He asked if I knew how to 2 step, and I told him I had never tried, so he offered to teach me.  within half an hour we had 2 stepped every song (they were all pretty slow) and kissed. a lot.  turns out he is stationed at fort sill in oklahoma, 21, rides bareback and saddle bronc events, used to be a calf roper, line dances, sings, and is crazy about me.  Im going out to OK in 2 weeks to be his arm candy at an artillery ball, among other things.  He wants me to move out there in june or July, but Im holding off on that for a few reasons 1) I dont know him ALL that well, 2) my stepdad goes in for knee surgery, and I dont know how long I will be needed to take care of soccer mom type duties here, and 3) I dont know where or how I can go to school out there.  That and I think my mother would have a coronary if I moved half way across the country with a man I JUST started seein.  We'll see what happens.  he leaves for OK in a couple of hours, so I'll talk to him around 3 or 4 when his plane lands.  I guess I should go to sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the Rain&lt;br /&gt;~Clint Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you&lt;br /&gt;Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through&lt;br /&gt;On the darkest day there's always light and now I see it too&lt;br /&gt;But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you&lt;br /&gt;I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind&lt;br /&gt;All the heaven's rivers come to light and I see it all unwind&lt;br /&gt;I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane&lt;br /&gt;And when I hear it I just can't believe I never liked the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you &lt;br /&gt;Liked the rain always calling for you I'm falling for you now&lt;br /&gt;Just like the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me&lt;br /&gt;It's as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldn't see&lt;br /&gt;That it's always good and when the flood is gone we still remain&lt;br /&gt;Guess I've known all along I just belong here with you falling &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you &lt;br /&gt;Liked the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now&lt;br /&gt;Just like the rain I have fallen for you&lt;br /&gt;I'm falling for you know just like the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when the night falls on our better days&lt;br /&gt;And we're looking to the sky&lt;br /&gt;For the winds to take us high above the plains&lt;br /&gt;I know that we'll find better ways to look into the eye&lt;br /&gt;of the storms that will be calling&lt;br /&gt;Forever we'll be falling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;Like the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108349208126063302?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108349208126063302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108349208126063302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/05/wow-this-has-certainly-been-whirlwind.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108329488342169005</id><published>2004-04-29T23:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-29T23:19:01.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today was painfully uneventful, had time to read an entire heinlein book cover to cover... and then when I got online I had a message from a former plaything in Cali to call him.  so I did.  he asked when I was going back, and I said probably sometime this summer, then he said if it was a money thing, or I needed help getting a ticket, let him know because he has an overabundance of cash... I know what it means I'll have to do when I get there if I accept, but DAMN I wasnt even sure I'd get back this summer because of money issues.  I guess it depends on if Im single. I just dont buy this whole zip code cheating rule... but it would be cool if it happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108329488342169005?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108329488342169005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108329488342169005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108329488342169005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108329488342169005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/04/today-was-painfully-uneventful-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108322189453159614</id><published>2004-04-29T02:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-29T03:02:31.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Garth Brooks &amp; Trisha Yearwood - In Another’s Eyes&lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;I'm someone who &lt;br /&gt;Loves her enough &lt;br /&gt;To walk away from you &lt;br /&gt;I'd never cheat &lt;br /&gt;And I would never lie &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;I can do no wrong &lt;br /&gt;And he believes in me &lt;br /&gt;And his faith is strong &lt;br /&gt;I'd never fall &lt;br /&gt;Or even compromise &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid that I can't see &lt;br /&gt;This picture perfect portrait &lt;br /&gt;That they paint of me &lt;br /&gt;They don't realize &lt;br /&gt;And I pray they never do &lt;br /&gt;'Cause every time I look &lt;br /&gt;I'm seein' you &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;Starin' back at me &lt;br /&gt;I see a sinkin' soul &lt;br /&gt;Tryin' desperately &lt;br /&gt;To turn the tide &lt;br /&gt;Before it dies &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what they don't see &lt;br /&gt;Is killing me &lt;br /&gt;It's blessing and a curse &lt;br /&gt;That love is blind &lt;br /&gt;'Cause in another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid that I can't see &lt;br /&gt;This picture perfect portrait &lt;br /&gt;That they paint of me &lt;br /&gt;And they don't realize &lt;br /&gt;And I pray to God they never do &lt;br /&gt;'Cause every time I look &lt;br /&gt;I'm seein' you &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;In another's eyes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108322189453159614?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108322189453159614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108322189453159614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108322189453159614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108322189453159614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/04/garth-brooks-trisha-yearwood-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108303593720554392</id><published>2004-04-26T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T03:03:42.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Went to a barbecue with some friends from the bar... they got me really really drunk because they never get to see me drink, and they were curious.  I don't have the first clue how much I drank, it didn't seem like I was all THAT drunk, but then again in an adult situation with mature adults, there is no reason to act like a buffoon when you're drunk, and I learned a long time ago that my behavior while intoxicated depends entirely on who is there, and how they're acting.  So basically when I am drinking with the big kids, Im a big kid too.  This is a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108303593720554392?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108303593720554392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108303593720554392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/04/went-to-barbecue-with-some-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108269487106722148</id><published>2004-04-23T00:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T03:05:07.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, so thats all the stupid shit Im throwin in, so I guess I better get down to some sort of background.  I moved to Michigan from California in October of 2003, I didnt want to go, but for financial and emotional reasons, I went.   I've almost completely decided to move to my dad's in Missouri.  The problem is his Girlfriend doesnt like me, and I already went through the complete moving and making new friends thing once in the past year, and that's one hell of a lot of stress, compounded by the fact that the friends I've made here are amazing, and I just started seeing someone.  Now I don't know if thats going anywhere or not, it is entirely too soon to tell, but I have this horrible problem with morbid curiousity, I don't just want to skip out now, because if I do, I'll never know what might have been with this guy.  I dance, I don't drink as much as I used to, I ride horses, drive a truck, enjoy playin in the mud and listenin to country music, there is also a confederate flag hanging on my bedroom wall... so overall I'd say Im a redneck.  The only person I've met here that really shares my views on the world reminds me of me with a penis, the problem is as amazing as he is, he's also a manwhore... and he realizes it.  He won't get into a relationship because he's incapable of being faithful, which is fine, we're great friends.  He's the only guy I know that I can be on the phone with for 3 hours, and at no point be listening to dead air while someone figures out something to say.  There's always something to say. I have an ex that wants me back, but he's an idiot.  I have a great friend who says he loves me, and would love to be with me, but he also has kids my age, and a wife he's been married to longer than I've been alive.  As much as I love him, I will never be anyones whore again, nor will I be the reason (or excuse) why he leaves his wife and kids.  So I did the next best thing, I told him how to save his marriage and get the passion back.  It seems to be working.  I have a friend here whos like a sister... I also have several friends in Cali who are like sisters.  I figure thats enough for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108269487106722148?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108269487106722148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108269487106722148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/04/ok-so-thats-all-stupid-shit-im-throwin.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108269405738669515</id><published>2004-04-23T00:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T00:25:05.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nobody's Girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first man that you ever loved&lt;br /&gt;Left your mama and never said goodbye to anyone&lt;br /&gt;And you were raised with your head held high&lt;br /&gt;But any fool can see it’s just a clever disguise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s baby&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s darlin’&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’ve always been a little scared to open your heart&lt;br /&gt;And you never let anybody take it too far&lt;br /&gt;You never let ‘em on the inside&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you’re always scared you’ll be taken for a ride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s baby&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s darlin’&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants you but you don’t want to care&lt;br /&gt;So you keep ‘em at a distance with the frown you wear&lt;br /&gt;You spend your time trying to even the score&lt;br /&gt;And you’ve got it in your head you deserve a lot more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one was a total disaster&lt;br /&gt;So was the second one and every one after&lt;br /&gt;But when you’re breaking in a broken home&lt;br /&gt;You’re gonna be sure to spend some nights on your own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you’re nobody’s baby&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s darlin’&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s baby&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s darlin’&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re nobody’s girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reckless Kelly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108269405738669515?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108269405738669515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108269405738669515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108269405738669515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108269405738669515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/04/nobodys-girl-first-man-that-you-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6821313.post-108269394012254965</id><published>2004-04-23T00:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T00:23:08.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Whiskey Lullaby&lt;br /&gt;(Brad Paisley Featuring Alison Krauss)&lt;br /&gt;(Bill Anderson/Jon Randall)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette&lt;br /&gt;She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget&lt;br /&gt;We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time&lt;br /&gt;But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind&lt;br /&gt;Until the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st Chorus &lt;br /&gt;He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger&lt;br /&gt;And finally drank away her memory&lt;br /&gt;Life is short but this time it was bigger&lt;br /&gt;Than the strength he had to get up off his knees&lt;br /&gt;We found him with his face down in the pillow&lt;br /&gt;With a note that said I'll love her till I die&lt;br /&gt;And when we buried him beneath the willow&lt;br /&gt;The angels sang a whiskey lullaby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sing lullaby)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself&lt;br /&gt;For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath&lt;br /&gt;She finally drank her pain away a little at a time &lt;br /&gt;But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind&lt;br /&gt;Until the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Chorus &lt;br /&gt;She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger&lt;br /&gt;And finally drank away his memory&lt;br /&gt;Life is short but this time it was bigger&lt;br /&gt;Than the strength she had to get up off her knees&lt;br /&gt;We found her with her face down in the pillow&lt;br /&gt;Clinging to his picture for dear life&lt;br /&gt;We laid her next to him beneath the willow&lt;br /&gt;While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6821313-108269394012254965?l=betrayedredneck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/feeds/108269394012254965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6821313&amp;postID=108269394012254965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108269394012254965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6821313/posts/default/108269394012254965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betrayedredneck.blogspot.com/2004/04/whiskey-lullaby-brad-paisley-featuring.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09639944092707724250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
