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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile</id>
  <title>Princess Andi</title>
  <subtitle>Princess Andi</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Princess Andi</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-12-15T03:13:39Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="15874405" username="andigentile" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:8513</id>
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    <title>You Live The Life You're Given When It Storms Outside</title>
    <published>2009-12-15T03:12:40Z</published>
    <updated>2009-12-15T03:13:39Z</updated>
    <category term="princess"/>
    <category term="life"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m kinda screwed up"/>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="me"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="sheila"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">A year ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacqui and I were bffs and Sheila and I weren't speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the type of girl who stayed up all night making cupcakes for the entire class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was teetering on the edge of dropping out of student council.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete and I had just broken up for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex and I weren't speaking and he was all heartbroken over my stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce was about to whistle at me in the hallway and I was about to make what was possibly my biggest mistake of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blaming myself for everything I touched turning to hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a virgin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ring finger was straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. A lot has changed. And &lt;i&gt;I've&lt;/i&gt; changed.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:8230</id>
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    <title>Most Nights Are Crystal Clear, But Tonight It's Like It's Stuck Between Stations</title>
    <published>2009-11-21T06:22:35Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-23T02:56:09Z</updated>
    <category term="nate"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m kinda screwed up"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">At Trevor's Halloween party, I &lt;strike&gt;slept&lt;/strike&gt; hooked up with this private school boy who was acting as bouncer. Which is not really typically me but &lt;strike&gt;I still feel really sad half the time and I have to distance myself from Drew so he doesn't get the wrong impression because the last thing I need is to date another Stoneybrook jock who plays nice real well&lt;/strike&gt; sometimes that's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, turns out he's Nate McCoy and he used to date Trevor's Greer and he completely hunted me down on the internet and we went on a date tonight. And I just got home and he didn't take &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt; "liberties" with me, so I think that says a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice. I'm not butterflies or anything, but the place he took me for dinner was super nice and he was... I'm not going to say he was sweet? But I think he could be sweet with a little bit of hand training. And he was absolutely as funny and witty and cocky as he came across at the party which I am very interested in. And he's right - I clearly did score high at SDS with him. I chose well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Is it the beginning of a deep and meaningful true love? Um. &lt;i&gt;No.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I think he is going to be a boyfriend? No.&lt;br /&gt;Do I even want or have time for a boyfriend? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we can have some fun for a little and go out sometimes and... okay. He's &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; pretty. And he knows how to make me shiver.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:7936</id>
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    <title>Some Days All I Do Is Watch The Sky</title>
    <published>2009-10-28T00:29:39Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-28T00:29:39Z</updated>
    <category term="life"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m kinda screwed up"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="homecoming"/>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="me"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">I think my life has come full circle. But better. Like the circle got bigger on the way around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago, it was pretty obvious that I would have been nominated for Homecoming Court. Not &lt;i&gt;won&lt;/i&gt;, but. A year ago? Not a chance. Obviously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this year. And I know it was the faculty, but... they noticed me. I made something more of me than brokenhearted Andi Gentile of the fall of 2008. And even if it wasn't faculty... I don't know that I've made my way entirely back to where I was but... I'm definitely fringe now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think I'm happy. I've clawed and fought my way back up and I'm &lt;i&gt;better&lt;/i&gt;. Not fixed, but better. Even since the Welcome Back bonfire breakdown in September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I spend my study hall doing ASG stuff instead of school work and that's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes I sob in my shower - but never in public - and that's okay too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe what I'm doing with Drew - not including emotions - and with other boys - making sure I'm in power - is inappropriate, but that's okay too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, I've put myself back together. I've balanced the overachiever and the broken girl and... &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; had to do that. It's not about being what I think my friends want me to be and it's not about being comfortable with boys -- It's about &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:7860</id>
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    <title>I Swear It's For the Best</title>
    <published>2009-09-20T15:54:52Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-20T15:57:41Z</updated>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m kinda screwed up"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="walking"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">Oh god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept with &lt;i&gt;RJ Blaser&lt;/i&gt; yesterday. In his gross, teenage boy bedroom with his gross bikini slut poster staring down at us at &lt;i&gt;four o clock in the afternoon&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. What was I thinking? Did I really let myself get that broken up over a boy who I loved but wasn't in love with anymore and is clearly a very different person than I thought he was? It was about being hurt? Or embarrassed? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I definitely embarrassed myself &lt;i&gt;more&lt;/i&gt; with that nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. No more. I don't need to sleep with them. It's a power thing and I can use my power without sleeping with them. &lt;strike&gt;It's about making sure that they can't hurt&lt;/strike&gt; I can still get them to carry my things and to pant over me and, god, I don't know, hop out of their seats to say hi to me or &lt;i&gt;whatever&lt;/i&gt; without sleeping with them. Not with gross high school boys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm &lt;i&gt;sure&lt;/i&gt; Drew'll be back for weekends and be willing to scratch my itch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the RJ thing... I guess I could have done worse. He &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; Group. But the &lt;i&gt;hair&lt;/i&gt; and the &lt;i&gt;posters&lt;/i&gt; and the &lt;i&gt;ew&lt;/i&gt;... Damage control mode. Deny. Deny deny deny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ew. I need to... productive.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:7553</id>
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    <title>I'm Too Tired Not To Be With You, I Guess Sex Will Have To Do</title>
    <published>2009-09-10T04:18:19Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-10T20:06:39Z</updated>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m kinda screwed up"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="me"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">Last night I got an email that 23 new pictures of me were tagged on Facebook. I guess Drew went a little facebook "let's hold onto our memories" nuts. He uploaded this giant album of all his "Labour Day Week" photos, so most of them were me just being drunk girl at his party - I was sucking on my Mike's bottle at one point? I think I put M&amp;Ms in it or something and they were stuck. It looks dirty. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, and then there was this one: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v168/rogerschica/BSC%20RPG/?action=view&amp;amp;current=andidrew.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v168/rogerschica/BSC%20RPG/andidrew.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's from our failure of a photoshoot at the beach. I can't believe he posted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but... I look so &lt;i&gt;sad&lt;/i&gt;. I almost asked him to delete it or untag me or whatever. But then I thought maybe it's important for me for it to stick around and be there to look at. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that I remember I never want to &lt;strike&gt;let a boy make me feel like that&lt;/strike&gt; feel like that again.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:7383</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/7383.html"/>
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    <title>I Need Light</title>
    <published>2009-08-19T15:42:44Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-19T15:42:44Z</updated>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="me"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">The show is opening &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; soon and part of me knows that at this point I could step away and leave the dances in the charge of the dance captain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been there for all of the rehearsals, trying to sneak in some reading about colleges - far away colleges - whenever I think no one's going to notice that I'm not paying full attention. In theory, I think I only need to pay attention to the dances-movement. But I think there are definitely some people in this show who might throw hissy fits if I'm not watching. Anyway, I think I've found a couple of place to pursue looking at, which is good, even if I'm totally behind the choosing schools game. And I'm still kind of regretting not doing summer school to retake some classes and get my GPA back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I know when I'd have time &lt;i&gt;for&lt;/i&gt; classes, I'm so &lt;i&gt;buuuuuuuusy&lt;/i&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the thing. I'm really busy, Pete's really busy... that's fine, right? Except... we're not busy at the same times. Like, we don't barely never see each other. And I don't think I'm clingy, I think I'm past the point where I need to see my boyfriend every day... but when you &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; see each other and when there isn't really an end in sight - we're both going to be so busy when school starts back up, I'm sure, and we're not busy with the same things - it's sort of like... where's the line, you know? What's the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I'm probably being dumb. I'm probably overreacting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to get going anyway. Miss Peggy wants to meet and discuss classes and registration and solos for the next year. SIGH.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:7062</id>
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    <title>You Live The Life You're Given</title>
    <published>2009-07-27T23:49:25Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-28T05:09:49Z</updated>
    <category term="princess"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="me"/>
    <content type="html">I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight. Nationals have been floating around the back of my brain since March and now it's over. Last summer I wouldn't have even imagined that I would go to Nationals and it's already over. I'm pretty sure as we keep getting older it's going to keep going so fast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is probably one of those revelations that make adults roll their eyes because it's a total given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I didn't win. I'm not the female dancer of the year - the best dancer of the girls from studios who happened to compete with ADA and didn't have an off day during their qualifying competition back in the winter... though I'm sure that's not how the girl who won would describe it - and I didn't get a sparkly tiara yesterday and I think I'm okay with that. I'm not even in the finalists and I'm okay with that too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My contemporary solo did well during the dance off, they tied me as the winner in the adjudicated modern class with another girl and that guy who never wore a shirt (I am waaaaaay too tired to remember names today)... and I was in the top twelve girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did decent. I did good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to grow up to be a dancer anyway and Nationals drove that home and I am grateful for that.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:6479</id>
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    <title>I'm Alive, But I Don't Need a Witness</title>
    <published>2009-06-25T05:07:19Z</published>
    <updated>2009-06-25T15:18:22Z</updated>
    <category term="life"/>
    <category term="me"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <content type="html">It's really late. But even so, if it weren't for Belle curled up on my lap right now, I would be dancing around and jumping and screaming right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't thought about him today. Not at all. Not once. Nothing spooked me, nothing made me think back, nothing about how I am so much better off without him. Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw him on Sunday - because I saw him on Sunday at the grocery store - I freaked out a little right in the moment, but I didn't hide, and I went home and &lt;i&gt;for real&lt;/i&gt; the most important thing was really making Daddy's dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent months studying my every &lt;i&gt;thought&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;action&lt;/i&gt; and coming up short, but I don't think this time I do. I think this time I am something good. Something better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm past one hurdle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I didn't think about him.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:6145</id>
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    <title>Let's Burn Down Something Beautiful</title>
    <published>2009-05-09T19:48:31Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-10T03:18:07Z</updated>
    <category term="me"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="alex"/>
    <category term="dumb friends"/>
    <content type="html">I've decided. I've had my two weeks of having this undercurrent of anger and I've decided. I'm so over that whole Alex... &lt;i&gt;thing&lt;/i&gt;. This thing that I only even know through Marty and that &lt;i&gt;maybe&lt;/i&gt; he was mistaken and &lt;i&gt;maybe&lt;/i&gt; he was just trying to make me mad enough to sleep with him and this &lt;i&gt;stupid&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;shitty&lt;/i&gt; "Z has given up his claim on you"... what does that even &lt;i&gt;mean&lt;/i&gt;? And even if it &lt;i&gt;does&lt;/i&gt; mean what I thought it meant... Me being mad doesn't make what happened over the past three years change and I just...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've put &lt;i&gt;so much&lt;/i&gt; energy into caring what Alex thinks about me. Into whether or not he's proud of me, if he thinks I'm being strong, if he's &lt;i&gt;speaking&lt;/i&gt; to me... I put so much energy into him being my "best friend" and into relying on him and into making him this &lt;i&gt;thing&lt;/i&gt; he never asked to be -- it's just not as easy as it was when we were kids. And I just... whatever. If we hang, we hang. If we don't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not running to him when I need someone to talk to me anymore though. He's been great, he's been &lt;i&gt;wonderful&lt;/i&gt;. But. He never asked to be what I made him into. And... I can't... it's not fair for me to be so &lt;i&gt;mad&lt;/i&gt; at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've put too much energy into caring what &lt;i&gt;everyone&lt;/i&gt; thinks of me, I think. And... and it's so not worth it. Because as soon as anything goes bad, as soon as I'm difficult, as soon as I'm &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; what people think of me, they walk. They're out and I can't actually count on anyone to be there for me... &lt;strike&gt;My friends have all...&lt;/strike&gt; But Pete at least listens to me when I'm overwhelmed. He hasn't ran yet. And that's why I made the right choice when I... right? Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be sad, I should find it pathetic if he's all I've got left in my life. All that I have given myself left in my life. &lt;strike&gt;Because maybe I chose him over&lt;/strike&gt; But mostly? I just. Don't. Care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have me. And it feels just so... liberating, to know that I am who I can count on to look after myself. &lt;b&gt;I have me.&lt;/b&gt; I've actually been choreographing around that idea. I'm maybe not explaining it well, I'm not good with words but... the dance says it. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And non-verbal communication can be just as important, right? Hmmm....</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:6101</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/6101.html"/>
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    <title>Two to One, Static To The Sound Of You and I Undone</title>
    <published>2009-05-03T02:01:02Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-06T15:15:21Z</updated>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m kinda screwed up"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="election"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="alex"/>
    <category term="yoga"/>
    <content type="html">Pete and I... Pete and I. On last Saturday. Why can't I write the word "sex"? Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did it. Which sounds &lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt; crass and makes it sound like so much less than what it was, which for me was... momentous. I didn't freak out. I didn't flash back to Bruce - Bruce pinning my arms above my head, Bruce knowing that it hurt and not caring, Bruce acting like he was jerking off but it just happened to be inside of me - until the very very end and even then it was for a split second and then Pete took my hand and it went away. And I'm not crediting Pete for "saving" me or anything like that, &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; (and my entire support team, whatever) got myself to the point that I could handle it, but... it was with &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he loves me. He told me. We are in &lt;i&gt;love&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm super pissed at Alex right now. Like, I am ignoring him because I am just so pissed. Before Pete and I... Marty hit on me at the party, which is, whatever, something I've seen Marty do to other girls a million times, but while he was in the middle of his "I am so hot and you should do me" spiel, he said that the reason there wasn't a single guy in our grade who would touch me - prior to Pete who wouldn't know and Bruce who was a &lt;i&gt;douche&lt;/i&gt; - was because of &lt;i&gt;Alex&lt;/i&gt;. Because of some twisted deference to him and... for the longest time, he didn't even &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; me. It's just so screwed up and I am so mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excitement! I am substitue teaching that drop-in yoga ckass that I go to sometimes next Tuesday! Charla called me and said that she knew it was totally unorthodox to ask, but she knew I taught at the studio and she was &lt;i&gt;desperate&lt;/i&gt; for someone and I didn't have rehearsal and I have her notes for what she wants to do in the class and... how &lt;i&gt;exciting&lt;/i&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and it is election time. I think I'm going to put a lot of my energies into helping Pete? I mean, I've got some posters and stuff put together and I have some ideas for Athletics for next year but... there doesn't seem to be a lot of interest in the Athletics position. I did a good job this year, every pep rally was very... pep-ful, even when I was falling apart inside. And the President stuff is going to be intense. So, yeah, I am going to help my Pete.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:5880</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/5880.html"/>
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    <title>I Can Tell As You Turn, I Smell The Sulfur So Clear</title>
    <published>2009-04-04T23:40:21Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-04T23:40:21Z</updated>
    <category term="princess"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="dumb friends"/>
    <content type="html">I should not resent my friends for confiding in me. For trusting me. I do not resent my friends for confiding in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the same time, I feel weighed down with secrets. I worry that I'm going to slip and say something about Sheila's... and not only &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;, I'm worried &lt;i&gt;about&lt;/i&gt; Sheila. I mean... &lt;i&gt;Ice Box&lt;/i&gt;? Even when I was broken-bad, I wouldn't have touched him with... with anything. What she's going through sucks, I know, but what if she gets hurt more? And Jacqui's... and we haven't spoken since she stormed out of my bedroom and I know it's on me to fix it but I can't even begin to figure out what to do. My heart is just &lt;i&gt;breaking&lt;/i&gt; for Mia. I don't even know if I should be worried about Heather or not anymore. &lt;i&gt;What happened to us?&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should love them for opening up to me and thinking I can handle it. I can take their secrets and give them what they need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up at 6 am today. My freezer is filled with cookies again. I feel comfortable wearing hoodies or dance clothes around Pete sometimes. But today I got up and put on a little jean skirt. The last time I wore it was at the ice cream social.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see what's happening but I don't have any energy left to worry about me.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:5376</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/5376.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=5376"/>
    <title>I Will Hold My Breath For You, Til I Can't Feel It</title>
    <published>2009-03-20T02:45:12Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-20T02:45:12Z</updated>
    <category term="sheila"/>
    <category term="alex"/>
    <category term="dumb friends"/>
    <content type="html">Poor poor &lt;i&gt;poor&lt;/i&gt; Sheila. I didn't see her today, which doesn't surprise me at &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt;, but I am so sick for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a teeny tiny part of me that wants to run to Alex and bang on his chest and demand "Are you really going to let they do this?". But he didn't do anything when it was me, why would he do anything when it's Sheila? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wouldn't dare ask it of him anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still. I feel sick for her. And I &lt;i&gt;get it&lt;/i&gt;. I totally get what she's gonna to be going through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, whatever. &lt;i&gt;I'll&lt;/i&gt; be there. &lt;strike&gt;Even if she wasn't for me.&lt;/strike&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:5167</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/5167.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=5167"/>
    <title>If You're Missing, I Will Run Away Because I Find Myself In You</title>
    <published>2009-03-19T03:48:33Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-19T03:49:41Z</updated>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="alex"/>
    <content type="html">What &lt;i&gt;happened&lt;/i&gt; to all of us? I just keep thinking about being at Sheila's house and she was so &lt;i&gt;afraid&lt;/i&gt; and what kind of parent &lt;i&gt;does&lt;/i&gt; that? And Jacqui was always a little... but it's so much worse. And Heather is... Heather is &lt;i&gt;fun&lt;/i&gt;, but... And I rarely see Mia, but there's this rumor going around school that she's &lt;i&gt;pregnant&lt;/i&gt;? And then there's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And every day, it feels like I'm taking two steps forward and one step back. And sometimes - lots of times - one step forward and two steps back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I passed my driving test today!&lt;br /&gt;But also, I hid in the bathroom today for fifteen minutes and was late for French because I saw Bruce walking down the hallway. I &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; he can't and isn't going to actually do anything to me, and yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I made up with Alex, completely, for reals. For reals like back before we ever even tried to date and messed things up so &lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt; bad. I think I'm finally going to be able to be his best friend again and he's going to be able to be mine.&lt;br /&gt;But also, I freaked out so &lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt; hard when Pete touched me. And I hate it, I hate that I am in that place. Because I love him but... but I can't, I can't yet. And I don't want Bruce to be the last guy who touched me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I rocked it at ADA and I was so excited.&lt;br /&gt;But then I spent the Saturday sitting in my hotel room and writing in my journal for Val and trying not to cry because of the night before and knowing I should should &lt;i&gt;should&lt;/i&gt; force myself to go to the Lyman to see the younger kids from the studio and just barely being able to handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no matter how much I say I'm getting better, I think I'm getting better, I'm not any less messed up than the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What happened to us?&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:4760</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/4760.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4760"/>
    <title>I Swear It's Not Me, It's Just Someone I Used To Know</title>
    <published>2009-02-28T18:29:15Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-28T19:56:44Z</updated>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="my birthday"/>
    <content type="html">We... I met with Bruce's parents this morning. Val mentioned at our session... should I call it a session? Is that what it is? Anyway, when I met her on Wednesday, Val mentioned that I should do it before everything healed with my body and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my parents swear up and down that Bruce &lt;i&gt;wouldn't&lt;/i&gt; be there and eventually they ended up coming to our house. I've met them before, I met them when Bruce and I were dating but. They've changed. I think they've changed. They're older. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't have much to say. I don't know, what are you supposed to say? I told them some... I want to say stories, but they're not stories. Happenings? And I showed them my finger, which is definitely healing wrong. Mama gave his mom an envelope. I think it had the ring and the bracelet in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mom cried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mama cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Pete held my left hand under the table and I didn't get lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pete&lt;/i&gt;. I introduced him as my best friend, but I think they knew. I think everyone in the room knew. But no one said anything. I think Mama and Daddy want someone to be there for me in the way that they can't. And he's proved himself. So they're keeping quiet. Maybe they're hoping it'll come up with Val and the right thing to do will be obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm falling in love with him. Notice, I said "falling". Not "in". I made that mistake with Bruce, I'm not doing it again. But I think I might be. And for &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt;. Not just because he's nice to me or because I'm in total lust because I can't have him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I won't let him hold my hand at school?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:4409</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/4409.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4409"/>
    <title>Princesses Die For Him</title>
    <published>2009-02-20T23:44:55Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-21T00:13:40Z</updated>
    <category term="princess"/>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <content type="html">Tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow it's been once week since... it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I gave myself a week. While I was lying in bed and watching &lt;i&gt;Enchanted&lt;/i&gt;, I gave myself a week to be pathetic and broken and now I have to fight my way out and fix me. My lip is healed. I don't have to wear sunglasses every time I'm in public. And now tonight I need to figure it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;1) Run away. I'm not smart enough for correspondence, but maybe I can transfer to Day School. Except Laine's there so maybe&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Do what I did after I broke from Pete. Give in. Become the Bad Girl. I've got all the tiny clothes for it. But it also sounds like the mini-plot arc of a CW tv show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Ignore. Ignore, repress, stop regressing, do what I've done for three years, become perfect princess Andi. But that has been cracking all year. And Princesses break. Princesses see everyone they love die in front of them and go insane and become the crone instead of becoming the woman. Princesses die for their princes and turn into seafoam and... I don't want to be seafoam. I don't want to be Ophelia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Princesses have crooked right ring fingers that will always remind them of what happened when there was no more happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Something else. This option &lt;i&gt;sucks&lt;/i&gt; because I have no idea who I am if I'm &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; the Princess. If I'm not flouncing around and dressing pretty and being my inner popular girl (which... I'm so over trying to win back people who hate me) and I &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; hate the word "fuck". If I strip away all of those things, &lt;i&gt;what&lt;/i&gt; is left of me? Am I somebody &lt;strike&gt;Pete&lt;/strike&gt; anyone would want? If I'm strong, does that mean I'm alone? Does the real Andi, the Andi I can't even remember being anymore because it's been so long, care about being alone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to pick number three. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go throw up for real now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:4262</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/4262.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4262"/>
    <title>She Prays For Days When Boys Mean Shes Protected</title>
    <published>2009-02-15T04:20:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-15T04:23:41Z</updated>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <content type="html">I can;t really type good right now. I dind't realyize how much I use my ring finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i need to record this. I thinj it's important. Just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My finger is broken. It's all crooked. Right ring finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ribs hurt when I brathe. I don;t think it's serious. I think they' rejust bruised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look like a bozer. Myr face. It's all bruised up. It's like I went through...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anway. It was Bruce. And I hurt all over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6:45 tonight, he broke my finger, slmamed me into the kitchen table and kicked me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stupid girl. &lt;br /&gt;I should have known&lt;br /&gt;I should have known&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me well&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy seventeenth birthday to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fuck&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't think</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:4053</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/4053.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4053"/>
    <title>You'd See Me Burning, But The Burning's Turning Smokeless</title>
    <published>2009-01-26T02:35:14Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-26T02:35:14Z</updated>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="my birthday"/>
    <category term="baking"/>
    <content type="html">Can we talk about how confused I am, please? Because I can't talk about it outloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been ignoring and ignoring and... Pete and I totally had this moment at Mary Anne's thing. Like, full on sparks and how is it that we're better when we're not together? But I'm ignoring. I'm ignoring so hard and we're &lt;i&gt;friends&lt;/i&gt; and he's wonderful and I'm letting him down because of Bruce's issues but Bruce's issues are ridiculous, except for when they're not like at Mary Anne's thing, and... I'm confused. And Bruce told me he loved me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama and Daddy are going into the city for Valentine's Day this year. Mama is so excited, her face just lights up every time she talks about it. They haven't had a Valentine's Day for seventeen years, because of me. Because of my birthday. But this year I have the Valentine's Day Dance and I'm on Student Council... and more importantly, I have Bruce. I have someone to be with so they won't feel guilty or be afraid to leave me alone. We'll do my family birthday later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my parents for giving up their day to give me all these amazing birthdays over the years. I really do. But just the same, I am so happy that they're taking this year for them. And besides, I have Bruce. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't baked anything other than Logan's birthday cake since Christmas. I had trouble sleeping at first, but I upped my yoga so I could unwind differently and it passed. I haven't really talked about it, though, because I think people might take it the wrong way. Or... maybe it's that I can't explain it well. I just... when I bake, I taste-test and sample a lot. And Bruce likes his girls little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just... it's no big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel stupid even writing it. I'm making it into something it's not. This is a &lt;i&gt;choice&lt;/i&gt; I made and it's nothing. It's no big.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:3738</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/3738.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3738"/>
    <title>Fire's a Beautiful Sound</title>
    <published>2009-01-07T04:09:50Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-08T05:45:44Z</updated>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">I can't walk past the gym at the school anymore without being sent right back to New Years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce smells like spice and the wood floors of the gym. My pink dress still smells like Bruce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On New Years, Bruce and I... Bruce and I. We became. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't told anybody yet. I think I always expected I would rush to my phone and rave to all of my friends when it happened. But I don't think drunken sex on New Year's Eve is a first time to brag about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't regret it. I don't think. I don't want to take it back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't want to talk about it either.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:3172</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/3172.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3172"/>
    <title>I'm Willing To Break Myself To Shake This Hell From Everything I Touch</title>
    <published>2008-12-19T18:19:05Z</published>
    <updated>2008-12-19T22:43:07Z</updated>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="bruce"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <category term="alex"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">Can I keep this a secret from Pete until after the break? Maybe. He and Bruce don't exactly run in the same crowds. And after the break, maybe it won't seem so sudden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date tonight with Bruce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really wonderful and really hard all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to keep reminding myself that I was with &lt;i&gt;Bruce&lt;/i&gt;. Bruce who would never bake with me, but kissed me on the cheek &lt;i&gt;at school&lt;/i&gt; this morning when he reminded me about our date. Bruce who tried to hold the door for me at the movie theatre, except it was automatic and he was super-embarrassed and stuck to opening the car door instead. Bruce who smells like spice and the wood floors in the gym at school and whose hands have never held a guitar. Bruce who seems completely unaware of my so-called infamy. Bruce who isn't afraid to confide in me how &lt;i&gt;badly&lt;/i&gt; he needs a sports scholarship and how he'll do &lt;i&gt;anything&lt;/i&gt; he needs to get one. Bruce who doesn't ask anything of me other than that I look hot, listen and laugh at the right moments... which is easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce who put his hand up my shirt tonight in his car outside my parents house and I didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce who &lt;i&gt;isn't&lt;/i&gt; Pete or Alex and I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going out again tomorrow night.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:2637</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/2637.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2637"/>
    <title>But Come Quick, I Am Losing Feeling</title>
    <published>2008-12-15T02:34:06Z</published>
    <updated>2008-12-16T07:36:43Z</updated>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <content type="html">We're done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never really even begun, but we're done. We're over. When I told him I didn't want him to just be with me because he felt guilty or because I was pushing him into it... neither of us listened enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's for the better right now. That I know it won't work and have gotten it over with. That he is so wonderful and I &lt;i&gt;can't&lt;/i&gt; be his perfect girl no matter how hard I try and me being around just makes him less than wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it hurts so bad. Even though we weren't anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to leave him alone. Because I just make things worse. Student Council, yes, I will still stay on it. There are people beyond Pete that I would mess up by doing that. But no painting posters. No car rides. No talking after meetings. No nothing. No Pete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I haven't cried yet. I don't even get it.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:2522</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/2522.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2522"/>
    <title>There's Everything Right With Being Perfect</title>
    <published>2008-12-02T02:10:22Z</published>
    <updated>2008-12-02T02:10:22Z</updated>
    <category term="perfection"/>
    <category term="i&amp;apos;m a slut"/>
    <category term="pete"/>
    <content type="html">Do I need to throw a temper tantrum to make people listen to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; kissed Pete. &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; did it. And I am so very tired of hearing people at school whispering about he cheated on his girlfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He &lt;i&gt;didn't&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know everyone will judge me for it, but everyone judges me for everything I do. It doesn't matter anymore... and I just don't want him to deal with all this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, he kissed me on Friday. It was beautiful.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:2142</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/2142.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2142"/>
    <title>Me And...</title>
    <published>2008-11-10T01:52:00Z</published>
    <updated>2008-11-10T01:52:00Z</updated>
    <category term="life"/>
    <category term="alex"/>
    <category term="dumb friends"/>
    <content type="html">When we were in middle school, it was always Jacqui and Heather. And Mia and Sheila. And me. And for a little while, it was me and Stacey, but then I went away with Mom and Dad and when I came back... and there was no more Stacey. And then I dated Robert and there was &lt;i&gt;definitely&lt;/i&gt; no more Stacey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then even when I was popular, there was Jacqui and Heather. And Sheila and Corinne. And Mia was off doing her own thing. And me and... who? Alex? Logan? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're the closest, but it's not the same. It's so not the same. I mean, I can't call either of them up and... I don't know, talk about my completely inappropriate crush on Pete and what'll make me get over it. The way that I'm sure Corinne and Sheila talked about the plan to drop me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds totally little kid-ish, but... I want a best friend. Or at least a girl who can stand to hang out with me. I don't know what's so wrong with me, I mean, I try so hard, don't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just lonely. I don't know. I need to get over &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt;.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:1983</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/1983.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1983"/>
    <title>You'll Fake It If You Have To</title>
    <published>2008-10-16T17:35:53Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-17T03:08:11Z</updated>
    <category term="homecoming"/>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <category term="dumb friends"/>
    <category term="boys"/>
    <content type="html">I am such a terrible person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They put up the nominations for Homecoming court today and I almost cried. Really. It wasn't that I was expecting to be nominated - not anymore - but it was just so real, the fact that if nominations had happened three months ago, I probably would have been up there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hate that I think like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also hate that I didn't vote yet. I couldn't. The boys are fine. My best friend is nominated, it's fine. But the girls. The only person I could remotely handle voting for, who doesn't make me want to throw up or cry when I see them, I &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; doesn't want it, so I don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think I miss Sheila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex is great, REALLY, but he's a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and Alex asked me to Homecoming. Which is totally sweet of him, at least I've got &lt;i&gt;someone&lt;/i&gt; in my corner then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate having to pretend I don't hate almost everything.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:1655</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/1655.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1655"/>
    <title>She Was Perfect, She Was Absolutely Perfect</title>
    <published>2008-09-11T03:31:34Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-11T03:33:11Z</updated>
    <category term="life"/>
    <category term="glasses"/>
    <category term="everything"/>
    <content type="html">Yesterday I didn't go to school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama wasn't very impressed when I showed up back home at 8:30. But I finally caved and told her everything that happened... that &lt;i&gt;has been&lt;/i&gt; happening and she got it. She wasn't very impressed, of course. She wanted to play the Mama Bear and run down the school and... I don't know, lecture everyone until they were nice to me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course she didn't. This is just... what happens, you know? This is what we do. And I get it. But it's awfully &lt;strike&gt;pathet&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;strike&gt;sad&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;i&gt;crappy&lt;/i&gt; being the person you know everyone is whispering about in the hallways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete Black complimented my glasses at school today. &lt;i&gt;Only&lt;/i&gt; Pete Black. Which is so so sad, when you consider my life be... He's nice. I like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go make some... something. Something distracty and complicated.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:andigentile:1531</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/1531.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://andigentile.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1531"/>
    <title>Shopaholic?</title>
    <published>2008-08-19T05:27:07Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-19T05:27:07Z</updated>
    <category term="shopping"/>
    <category term="baby model money"/>
    <content type="html">I bought $36 worth of lipgloss off Sephora.com today. One smells like cherry coke, one smells like rootbeer, one smells like fruit punch. Oh Mama, why did you get me a credit card?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm totes responsible most of the time when it comes to my baby model money? But sometimes... I just like nice things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's totally important! Cheerleading tryouts are next week and it's super-important that I &lt;i&gt;look&lt;/i&gt; amazing as well as &lt;i&gt;be&lt;/i&gt; amazing. Not that I'm really worried about it. I mean, I can lift my leg up to my ear. Oh gosh, that was conceited wasn't it? Ew. Never to say outloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I can't type this stuff here? It's gonna come out somewhere no good, like out of my mouth, so it is good to get it out, I guess.</content>
  </entry>
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