<?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-8149333026532500561</id><updated>2012-01-02T10:20:11.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stiletto</title><subtitle type='html'>We don't live forever, make the most of it....and then die young and make a hot corpse!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-6308447048018174690</id><published>2007-11-27T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T22:36:24.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quckie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;So, so so sorry!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's been a while but now I think I'm back on track again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thing is, I've &lt;strong&gt;started a new job&lt;/strong&gt; again. And I absolutely love it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But there is a lot to learn so I've been kinda busy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This morning I came to work an hour before I actually start&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;since I had to sleap at my boyfriend's place and he had to leave early.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sure, I could have taken the train. But I would have to walk for about 15 min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to even get to the train and it's &lt;strong&gt;freezing cold outside&lt;/strong&gt;!! His warm car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;seemed like a much better idea. But dont worry, I wont be doing anything remotely&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;work-related until I have to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;After work we're all going out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some fancy place that is putting on one of those &lt;strong&gt;christmas/dinner&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shows if u know what I mean. If you dont here's what's gonna happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will eat way too much, drink too much&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and feel terrible waking up tomorrow for work again =P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Keep u posted!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-6308447048018174690?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/6308447048018174690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=6308447048018174690&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6308447048018174690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6308447048018174690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/11/quckie.html' title='Quckie'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-8373326361165794579</id><published>2007-11-06T02:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T03:26:09.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The T-shirt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay, so ever since my roommate &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;moved out&lt;/span&gt; of our huge appartment&lt;br /&gt;due do the fact that we were on the verge of killing each other&lt;br /&gt;after sharing it for about 10 months,&lt;br /&gt;I've tried convincing myself the apartment is&lt;br /&gt;somewhat &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;smaller&lt;/span&gt; than it actually is. How have I done this u ask?&lt;br /&gt;By shutting the door to one of the rooms&lt;br /&gt;and pretending like it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;does not exist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This room has become the place where I stuff everything&lt;br /&gt; I don't know what to do with.&lt;br /&gt;A.k.a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;clothes&lt;/span&gt; I've grown sick of&lt;br /&gt;and a collection of movies and books and just various crap.&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know, you could just throw the shit out but come on.&lt;br /&gt;I'm &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lazy&lt;/span&gt; and I know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I decided to go through some of the clothes in there&lt;br /&gt;to see if I could find anything &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;worth using once again&lt;/span&gt;. Turns out&lt;br /&gt;most of the clothing I've stuffed in there had been retired from&lt;br /&gt;my wardrobe for a good reason, so no such luck. I did however&lt;br /&gt;stumble on to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; that I had forgotten about. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A t-shirt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not mine, it belonged to someone of the opposite sex. But this t-shirt&lt;br /&gt;comes with a story. And being the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;generous me&lt;/span&gt; that I am I think I'm gonna&lt;br /&gt;share it with you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was last&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; winter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my roommate had just moved here&lt;br /&gt;and went out for some partying and maybe more. The truth?&lt;br /&gt;We were both kinda &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;looking for some lovin&lt;/span&gt; for the night and being&lt;br /&gt;the dancing queens that we are, it didn't take very long for the guys to&lt;br /&gt;start trying to put the moves on us. But since part of the fun is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;teasing &lt;/span&gt;the poor blokes we sticked to dancing for a while first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the night went on one particular guy caught my attention&lt;br /&gt;and we started dancing. One thing lead to another and while&lt;br /&gt;we were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;kissing on the dancefloor&lt;/span&gt; suddenly this guy lifts me up&lt;br /&gt;and carries me off the dancefloor and up against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;I can't even begin to explain how hot this was. Just take my word for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOT. HOT. HOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you've probably figured out by now, we left.&lt;br /&gt;Took a cab and went &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;back to my place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since there was alcohol in the picture&lt;br /&gt;he had some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;difficulty&lt;/span&gt; performing, if you know what I mean&lt;br /&gt;so I tried "raising" the heat again with my hands,&lt;br /&gt;and just when we were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;getting the heat back, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you think he does...?&lt;br /&gt;Gets. A. Little. Too. Hot.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Show's over.&lt;/span&gt; Before it even began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Imagine having found the perfect pair of stilettos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;then finding out they don't have them in your size.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But then! Like a miracle, they find an extra pair stuffed away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;somewhere. You put them on, stand in front of the mirror&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sooo happy! And then the heal suddenly breaks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how I felt. He was so hot, and then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sooo not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sooo disapointed and not very good at hiding it.&lt;br /&gt;Didn't actually try to be honest with you,&lt;br /&gt;I just mumbled something &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not so nice&lt;/span&gt; and then just went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;And before you start critizising me about being a bitch to the poor&lt;br /&gt;guy I really have to say that had this been someone I knew&lt;br /&gt;I probably would have handled it more delicately but seriously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was a one night stand!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up the next morning only to find &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he was gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...he had apparently been in such a hurry to leave &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(who can blame him,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;talk about embarrasing moment)&lt;/span&gt; that he had&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; left without his t-shirt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I later found it at the end of my bed but slightly hidden&lt;br /&gt;so I can understand why he couldnt find it.&lt;br /&gt;I can just picture him now, trying to find all his clothes while terrified&lt;br /&gt;that the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;evil girl&lt;/span&gt; will wake up before he has time to leave.&lt;br /&gt;Then having to escape without his t-shirt. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Brrr, cold!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then next dilemma. Since we took a cab to my place&lt;br /&gt;he probably had &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no idea&lt;/span&gt; where he was or how to get home.&lt;br /&gt;Hope he had money for a cab at least =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The t-shirt has now been thrown away. I didn't really wanna&lt;br /&gt;risk mr Skydiver finding it and asking who it belonged to.&lt;br /&gt;This story doesnt really show the best side of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion?&lt;br /&gt;Think it's safe to say that one nighters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;don't always go as planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Share with me your worst sexual one night stands!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either here or in your own blogs. Just be sure&lt;br /&gt;to tell me so I can read it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-8373326361165794579?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/8373326361165794579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=8373326361165794579&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8373326361165794579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8373326361165794579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/11/t-shirt.html' title='The T-shirt'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-5844163998442975794</id><published>2007-11-01T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T14:30:43.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My plan to make some serious &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pay-back-noises &lt;/span&gt;last friday&lt;br /&gt;went excellent! Me and the girls got really drunk and&lt;br /&gt;sang along to my Singstar game until 2:00 am. And this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;any of my neighbours or local policeofficers coming by to tell us to shut up!!&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the people living in my building are better than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; came by at about 1 am and he said he could hear us&lt;br /&gt;from three buildings away...that's quite an achievement, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;This meant he got to meet a couple of my friends too.&lt;br /&gt;One of them &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stole him&lt;/span&gt; right away. She was in desperate need&lt;br /&gt;for some advice about some guy she's seeing and&lt;br /&gt;figured it was a great chance of getting a guy's perspective on things.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to get him to sing some karaoke but I failed...&lt;br /&gt;Guys can be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sooo boring&lt;/span&gt; when it comes to making a complete fool&lt;br /&gt;of yourself. Luckilly, me and the girls don't have that problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day, after curing my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hangover &lt;/span&gt;with some pizza&lt;br /&gt;it was time to get dolled up again to go to Mr skydiver.&lt;br /&gt;His brother was turning 25 and had invited both of us to the party.&lt;br /&gt;Was the first time I got to meet the brother and he was FINE...&lt;br /&gt;Good looks must run in the family.&lt;br /&gt;Nice to know if I get tired of this one :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(kidding!!...maybe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go now, waiting on said skydiver to come by here&lt;br /&gt;after being out drinking with his school-buddys.&lt;br /&gt;He has the day off from school tomorrow so he's being kind&lt;br /&gt;enough to lend me his hungover tired ass. Sweet huh?&lt;br /&gt;But I've been home with a cold for three days&lt;br /&gt;so in revenge I thought I'd give it to him.&lt;br /&gt;Now if that's not a caring girlfriend, I don't know what is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-5844163998442975794?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/5844163998442975794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=5844163998442975794&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/5844163998442975794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/5844163998442975794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-2049960710846601725</id><published>2007-10-26T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T09:30:01.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mission tonight: to drive my neighbours crazy!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Apparently I have gotten &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;addicted to Singstar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know about it, it's karaoke in your own home =P&lt;br /&gt;Very amusing, especially when there's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;alcohol&lt;/span&gt; involved.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight me and the girls are going at it again. This time at my place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the urge for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;revenge&lt;/span&gt; after waking up at 5:am this morning&lt;br /&gt;due to some strange noises coming from the apartment upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;Yep, you guessed it. They were going at it like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bunnies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this woman makes the&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; strangest&lt;/span&gt; sex-noises I've ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;Can't explain it, but imagine the most annoying sound&lt;br /&gt;that keeps on playing like a broken record without ever changing.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I'm all for making noises while doing it but come on.&lt;br /&gt;This woman sounds like she is trying to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;copy something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;out of a bad bad porno.&lt;br /&gt; And then,&lt;br /&gt;just when things go quiet and you think they're done,&lt;br /&gt;she &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;starts all over&lt;/span&gt; again....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, it's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;payback&lt;/span&gt; time. Oh yeah.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to choose the most challenging song I can find&lt;br /&gt;and then I'm dedicating that song to the bunnies upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually gonna stand on my couch to get closer to their apartment&lt;br /&gt;and then sing my little heart out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized, if I can hear them so clearly&lt;br /&gt;then they can probably hear me and mr skydiver too.&lt;br /&gt;And although I don't sound like her&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; (I seriously hope so at least)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quite loud....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Skydiver is coming by here tonight after partying,&lt;br /&gt;maybe I'll seduce him and add to my revenge?&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like a plan. A good one too.&lt;br /&gt;Wonder if my neighbours would agree?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really should be getting ready now instead of wasting time here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The girls &lt;/span&gt;are coming by in an hour.&lt;br /&gt;Must. Stop.Blogging...Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have a freaky friday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-2049960710846601725?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/2049960710846601725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=2049960710846601725&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/2049960710846601725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/2049960710846601725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/10/mission-tonight-to-drive-my-neighbours.html' title='Mission tonight: to drive my neighbours crazy!!'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-5351857833150580360</id><published>2007-10-12T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T06:32:09.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drinks and girltalk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sorry guys!!&lt;br /&gt; I haven't had time to write about the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;getting lost&lt;/span&gt; episode,&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to save that for later. Tonight I'm of to a night of girlie drinks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;karaoke and girltalk&lt;/span&gt; with some girls I've gotten to know through skydiving.&lt;br /&gt;And with that combination, what could possibly go &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wrong??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And on saturday my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sexy skydiver &lt;/span&gt;is coming by early&lt;br /&gt;to pull my hungover ass out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;We're meeting some of my friends&lt;br /&gt;at the amusement park, where I'll be spending a couple of hours&lt;br /&gt;trying to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;avoid throwing up&lt;/span&gt; while going on the craziest rides we can find.&lt;br /&gt;And then me and my man are going&lt;br /&gt; to see the movie &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stardust&lt;/span&gt; where after stuffing myself&lt;br /&gt;with popcorn, I'll probably fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;since I'm not counting on getting home early tonight.&lt;br /&gt;After the movie I plan on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;getting him drunk&lt;/span&gt; instead,&lt;br /&gt;so he'll spill all his little dirty secrets to me.&lt;br /&gt;I see nothing wrong with this picture either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-5351857833150580360?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/5351857833150580360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=5351857833150580360&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/5351857833150580360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/5351857833150580360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/10/drinks-and-girltalk.html' title='Drinks and girltalk'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-8092990876112045017</id><published>2007-10-07T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T01:36:43.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know, I know. I promised an update on saturday&lt;br /&gt;but guess what? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I lied&lt;/span&gt;. I tend to do that sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;And sunday works too :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, So I met the family yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;It was all very &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;undramatic&lt;/span&gt;. It was only his mother&lt;br /&gt;and his little sis since the dad was working late.&lt;br /&gt;His sister was however a little surprised since Mr Skydiver&lt;br /&gt;had totally convinced her that I was someone from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Big brothers...I'm so thankful I don't have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So I'm sorry, no juicy stories to tell about the meeting!!&lt;br /&gt;But friday really made me realize that damn, I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really like this guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot. A whole lot actually.&lt;br /&gt;And what makes it so much better is that he really&lt;br /&gt;likes me too. Isn't it great when that happends? =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...just noticed that this post must be incredibly &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;boring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for you guys to read and so I promise to make it up to you tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;If nothing really interesting happends, I'm gonna share the embarrasing&lt;br /&gt;incident involving me, a friend and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;getting lost in the woods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-8092990876112045017?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/8092990876112045017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=8092990876112045017&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8092990876112045017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8092990876112045017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-8670463373847960619</id><published>2007-10-05T04:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T04:57:49.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting the parents...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yep, just when things are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;going really great&lt;/span&gt; with my Skydiver&lt;br /&gt;he springs it on me that today I will be meeting his parents...&lt;br /&gt;Lucky me, huh?&lt;br /&gt;I mean, don't get me wrong,&lt;br /&gt;parents actually tend to instantly love me.&lt;br /&gt;But it's always a little &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(read: a lot)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nervous meeting someones family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it's not just the parents either,&lt;br /&gt; it's the brother and sister too.&lt;br /&gt;And there's always that chance of me saying something really&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; stupid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or me doing something even more stupid in front of them.&lt;br /&gt;Being a frequent reader of &lt;a href="http://muchadoaboutsumthin.blogspot.com/"&gt;Steph&lt;/a&gt; I will however make sure I don't&lt;br /&gt;do the celebration &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dance&lt;/span&gt; if it goes well...&lt;br /&gt;You who've read it know what I'm talking about :P&lt;br /&gt;Just wish me luck okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell you all about it on saturday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But until I do, here's something you just&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; have to watch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a recording of a swedish host who does something&lt;br /&gt;quite unusual, at least when it comes to live tv...&lt;br /&gt;It's loaded with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;english subs&lt;/span&gt; so you'll understand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJ7o3jClL5g"&gt;Press here please&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-8670463373847960619?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/8670463373847960619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=8670463373847960619&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8670463373847960619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8670463373847960619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/10/meeting-parents.html' title='Meeting the parents...'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-4472240266154342983</id><published>2007-09-25T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T01:52:41.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, Yes, Yes, Oh yes!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hell yeah!!!&lt;br /&gt;Say &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;congrats&lt;/span&gt; people cause this weekend I did it!&lt;br /&gt;I am now a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; for real!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I have my A-certificate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two jumps on Saturday with an instructor&lt;br /&gt;and then three jumps all by myself on Sunday and that was it!&lt;br /&gt;It was sooooo fantastic!!!&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just hoping my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;crappy ex-job&lt;/span&gt; pays me&lt;br /&gt;before the weekend cause then I can jump some more =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, here's an update on the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;job situation&lt;/span&gt; too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People say it's hard to get a job these days.&lt;br /&gt;Ha! Not if you're me apparently. I've been unemployed&lt;br /&gt;for maybe a week and a half and already &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I have a job&lt;/span&gt;, starting on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;also have an interview&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow with another company&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(gotta keep your options open right??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;third company&lt;/span&gt; called while I was being interviewed&lt;br /&gt;for the first job and left a voicemail.&lt;br /&gt;I then got interviewed by that person on the phone,&lt;br /&gt;still waiting to hear if they want me to come by for a real one,&lt;br /&gt;but it sounded promising.&lt;br /&gt;So maybe I'll get to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pick and choose&lt;/span&gt; from potential jobs&lt;br /&gt;instead of begging someone to employ me!!&lt;br /&gt;Problem is...&lt;br /&gt;I don't know which one I'd choose from these three.&lt;br /&gt;What if I pick the wrong one!!??&lt;br /&gt;Can't I just have two weeks at each job and then decide?&lt;br /&gt;No? Crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Well. At least I am a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Skydiver &lt;/span&gt;now!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-4472240266154342983?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/4472240266154342983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=4472240266154342983&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/4472240266154342983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/4472240266154342983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/09/yes-yes-yes-oh-yes.html' title='Yes, Yes, Yes, Oh yes!!'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-2507938280586828036</id><published>2007-09-20T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T10:55:42.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The soap-opera of my small town...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm back&lt;/span&gt; from my visit of la familia and before that&lt;br /&gt;I engaged in a weekend of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not skydiving,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crappy weather as usual...&lt;br /&gt;I'm giving it another try this weekend...&lt;br /&gt;It's always interesting to get the latest &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;small town news&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whenever I visit the family there.&lt;br /&gt;It's like watching an episode of a really corny&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; soap&lt;/span&gt; I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;Here's a takeout of the plot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; uncle&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on my fathers side&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; his wife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;passed away in her sleap about two and a half years ago.&lt;br /&gt;It was all really tragic and unexpected, she was only in her fifties.&lt;br /&gt;This of course left my uncle devastated and&lt;br /&gt;since my family on my fathers side is pretty huge&lt;br /&gt;we all pitched in and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tried to be there for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;aunt&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(on my mothers side) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who had been close to his wife was there for him.&lt;br /&gt;I think they actually supported each other,&lt;br /&gt;since my aunt had a lot of problems with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;her ex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;abusive rat&lt;/span&gt; that unfortunately&lt;br /&gt;happends to be the  father of her twelve &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(or something) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;year old son that she had finally&lt;br /&gt;a couple months earlier left for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they spent quite&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; a lot of time together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the classic scenario took place as it sometimes does&lt;br /&gt;when two people get so close,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;they fell in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;At first they kept quiet about it&lt;br /&gt;but when she finally told me I had already figured it out.&lt;br /&gt;It was kinda obvious for us who knew her well.&lt;br /&gt;Now, my uncle and his previous wife has&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; three&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;kids &lt;/span&gt;from the ages of 26 to 30 something.&lt;br /&gt;They were&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; not happy&lt;/span&gt; about this,&lt;br /&gt;and after a lot of drama which I'm not even gonna bring up here&lt;br /&gt;two of them completely stopped talking to their father and still don't.&lt;br /&gt;They accused my aunt of being&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; a golddigger &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(my uncle has a lot of money)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a parasite&lt;/span&gt; which drives me insane cause it couldn't be further&lt;br /&gt;from the truth and they should know this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The oldest son&lt;/span&gt; has from what I can understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;accepted &lt;/span&gt;their relationship and I think they all get along quite okay.&lt;br /&gt;That is until we learned that the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wife of this son&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is spredding lies about my aunt and badmouthing her behind her back.&lt;br /&gt;And get this, she still has the nerve to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;use my aunt for babysitting!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How we found out about the lies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Another uncle&lt;/span&gt; of mine &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(fathers side)&lt;/span&gt; heard her talking.&lt;br /&gt;But he refuses to be a part of a confrontation&lt;br /&gt;because he doesnt want any drama.&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe you shouldnt have said anything to begin with??&lt;br /&gt;And also, she works at the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;first uncles office&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(if you can call surfing the internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;when she should be doing her job working...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we now suspect she &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is stealing money&lt;/span&gt; from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have this on-going drama and here's&lt;br /&gt;a bit more to add.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# Gossiping uncle who has a&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; polish wife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who only talks about money, money &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#A &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cousin&lt;/span&gt; who almost dropped out of high school&lt;br /&gt;but did manage to graduate and is now going back&lt;br /&gt;and forth to Germany buying huge amounts of alcohol&lt;br /&gt;which he then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sells illegaly here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# A brother of mine who is completely &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;addicted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;to some computergame &lt;/span&gt;and becomes violent&lt;br /&gt;when he is away from it for too long, or&lt;br /&gt;when someone says something he doesn't want to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# My grandparents on my mothers side who are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;full on drunks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and have always been. The grandmother is also bordering on anorectic&lt;br /&gt;and I'm not sure but I think she's tried killing my grandfather&lt;br /&gt;on more than one occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I go on?? Trust me, I have more.&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of interesting though, I actually used&lt;br /&gt;to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the bad seed&lt;/span&gt; in our family.&lt;br /&gt;Now as you can see we have quite a few who is far&lt;br /&gt;worse than I ever was =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to see my family but it just feels&lt;br /&gt;so good to be back in the real world again.&lt;br /&gt;Going &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;skydiving tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; and for the rest of the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I hope)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Party people, do a tequila-shot for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-2507938280586828036?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/2507938280586828036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=2507938280586828036&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/2507938280586828036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/2507938280586828036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/09/soap-opera-of-my-small-town.html' title='The soap-opera of my small town...'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-1050727912143733769</id><published>2007-09-14T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T08:38:41.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you hire me??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Not quite free of the cold just yet but I've decided&lt;br /&gt;I'm well enough to go &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;skydiving this weekend&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;This time we'll be going to a dropzone&lt;br /&gt;a bit further from where I live and there we don't have the restrictions&lt;br /&gt;we do at the regular dz which makes my chances of completing&lt;br /&gt;a few jumps so much higher...maybe I'll even finish my A-certificate!?&lt;br /&gt;Fingers crossed as usual =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's really no point in me hanging around here anyway&lt;br /&gt;since I'm &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;officially unemployed&lt;/span&gt; now...&lt;br /&gt;yep, thursday this week&lt;br /&gt;me and the girl I work with quit our jobs and just left.&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time coming since the company I work,&lt;br /&gt;well guess "worked" for&lt;br /&gt;hasn't been doing to well the last couple of months.&lt;br /&gt;I did think for a while that things would improve&lt;br /&gt;but at the end my boss was starting to turn our office&lt;br /&gt;and my work assignments into something&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't prepared to go along with.&lt;br /&gt;He did say he wanted me to stay but listen to this, he couldn't guarantee&lt;br /&gt;that I'd be getting paid for the work I'd be doing!?? What, did he think&lt;br /&gt;I'd want to work for free?? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't think so!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we just left. And now we've contacted our union so they'll make&lt;br /&gt;sure we get our final paychecks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not worried though. I feel confident I'll get another job soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;But until then I'm gonna &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;enjoy&lt;/span&gt; having a little free time.&lt;br /&gt;Next week I'll be visiting my family in the small town.&lt;br /&gt;Figure I'll stay there for a couple of days, free food is always nice =P&lt;br /&gt;Don't think I'll stay too long though, my family usually gets&lt;br /&gt;on my last nerves even when I'm only there for a weekend.&lt;br /&gt;And besides, I have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hot guy&lt;/span&gt; here I can't stay away from too long.&lt;br /&gt;The guys in the small town...not to eager to see them.&lt;br /&gt;A lot of exes and a lot of drama...&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking I'll just stay in my familys house&lt;br /&gt;and just not go out at all.&lt;br /&gt;That really feels like the safest bet.&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend and drink a couple of vodka shots for me too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-1050727912143733769?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/1050727912143733769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=1050727912143733769&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1050727912143733769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1050727912143733769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/09/would-you-hire-me.html' title='Would you hire me??'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-8560511062827845468</id><published>2007-09-10T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T13:23:32.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone hates me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no skydiving&lt;/span&gt; this weekend =(&lt;br /&gt;Crappy weather in combination with a lot of new students&lt;br /&gt;scheduled to complete their 1 level jumps made me&lt;br /&gt;stay home instead of going to the dropzone. But next weekend&lt;br /&gt;we are all going to another dropzone that thankfully don't&lt;br /&gt;have the restrictions that our DZ has. I plan&lt;br /&gt;on making 3-4 jumps and if everything goes well I might&lt;br /&gt;even &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;complete my A-certificate!!&lt;/span&gt; But&lt;br /&gt;just to complete aff levels 6 and 7 would make me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did however get to spend some more time&lt;br /&gt;with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my skydiver&lt;/span&gt;. I think I'm really starting&lt;br /&gt;to like him...and it scares the crap out of me to be honest...&lt;br /&gt;But I'm trying to ignore that feeling...for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He spent the night here and we both took the&lt;br /&gt;same tram to work/school.&lt;br /&gt;The lack of seats left us &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;standing&lt;/span&gt; and after about&lt;br /&gt;10 min it was getting very crowded in there&lt;br /&gt;and I suddenly started feeling very &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dizzy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything started spinning and I couldn't see straight&lt;br /&gt;so I sat down against the wall waiting for it to go away.&lt;br /&gt;It did...while I was down. Everytime I tried getting up&lt;br /&gt;it took a few seconds and once again I felt like I&lt;br /&gt;was gonna pass out. Pretty sure I freaked out mr skydiver a bit.&lt;br /&gt;Hell, I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;freaked out&lt;/span&gt;, it was scary!&lt;br /&gt;Finally a lady offered me her seat&lt;br /&gt;since she could see I wasn't feeling to hot.&lt;br /&gt;By now I thought it had passed and after making&lt;br /&gt;sure I could manage on my own my skydiver&lt;br /&gt;left me at his stop to get to class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept going for a few stops but I only got worse&lt;br /&gt;and when I had made it almost to work&lt;br /&gt;I realized I had to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;go home&lt;/span&gt; again.&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention it takes me an hour to get to work&lt;br /&gt;and therefore an hour to get back??&lt;br /&gt;It felt like it took forever to get home again.&lt;br /&gt;But when I did, I crashed on my couch and slept&lt;br /&gt;until late afternoon when I woke up with a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nasty cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a head that felt like a bowling ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'm sick. Again. Great.&lt;br /&gt;If my memory isn't too shitty&lt;br /&gt;I seem to recall it wasn't that long ago&lt;br /&gt;since the last time I was sick.&lt;br /&gt; Tnx a lot.What did I do to deserve this??&lt;br /&gt;Be back when my head stops pounding,&lt;br /&gt;my nose isn't running and I don't&lt;br /&gt;look like someone who has been dead for weeks.&lt;br /&gt;I have a bottle of vodka at home.&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;downing it&lt;/span&gt; just to see if it will&lt;br /&gt;kill all the bad shit in my system.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, a hangover has got to&lt;br /&gt;be nicer that this, right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-8560511062827845468?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/8560511062827845468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=8560511062827845468&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8560511062827845468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/8560511062827845468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/09/someone-hates-me.html' title='Someone hates me...'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-1487882806668421363</id><published>2007-09-04T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T04:30:10.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some valuable life-lessons from me to you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;# Why running to avoid missing the bus is a bad idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While running, your phone could accidently fall out of&lt;br /&gt;your pocket without you noticing. You could then proceed&lt;br /&gt;to panic on the bus when noticing it's gone and force the busdriver to stop&lt;br /&gt;the bus after going 1 ½ stops. I'm pretty sure he thought I'd lost&lt;br /&gt;my mind but no, just the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully I found it on the parkinglot but&lt;br /&gt;I was then forced to stand in the cold &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(yeah, it's cold here now)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and await the next bus...&lt;br /&gt;I hardly ever run to catch the bus, mostly cause&lt;br /&gt;the shoes I normally wear arent really meant for running&lt;br /&gt;but this time my co-worker forced me.&lt;br /&gt;Lesson learnt, next time she can catch that bus&lt;br /&gt;while I walk slow enough to catch the next one instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;# Why giving your lover/boyfriend/date or whatever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the spare keys to your place is also just a bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Did my laundry last night and since I don't trust my&lt;br /&gt;neighbours, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(washing mashine's at the bottom of the building)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after loading the machines with laundry I put&lt;br /&gt;a padlock on the door and then went back upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;After an hour I went back there and was just about&lt;br /&gt;to open the lock when I froze up.&lt;br /&gt;The key, the only key to this lock, it wasn't on my keychain.&lt;br /&gt;Any guesses on where this key was??&lt;br /&gt;You should have figured it out by now.&lt;br /&gt;On the keychain I gave to him, there it was...&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was a bad idea him having those stupid keys!!&lt;br /&gt;Since he was a a coctailparty &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(some student thingie)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me over an hour to go get the key.&lt;br /&gt;By that time I could forget about using the dryer&lt;br /&gt;so now there's wet clothes and bedding covering practically&lt;br /&gt;my entire apartment.&lt;br /&gt;He only gave me the key to the padlock though,&lt;br /&gt;and kept the other keys, smart boy huh?&lt;br /&gt;But since I later woke up due to a hottie&lt;br /&gt;crawling into my bed, I'd say it's okey that he has them...for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, better get back to work now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-1487882806668421363?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/1487882806668421363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=1487882806668421363&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1487882806668421363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1487882806668421363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/09/some-valuable-life-lessons-from-me-to.html' title='Some valuable life-lessons from me to you.'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-6700249632528363693</id><published>2007-09-02T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T04:55:23.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 down, 5 to go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ok, been a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lazy blogger&lt;/span&gt; this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the update. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First, skydiving-business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for you &lt;a href="http://skydiver.wordpress.com/"&gt;Mark&lt;/a&gt;, since you're clearly not interested in hearing&lt;br /&gt;about anything else but the lovemaking to the sky =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jump #5 completed!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to have made two jumps on Saturday&lt;br /&gt;but the weather took a turn for the worse before it was my turn&lt;br /&gt;so they cancelled it. But still, at least I got to jump out of the plane once.&lt;br /&gt;Since it had been about a month since jump #4&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a bit nervous&lt;/span&gt; which I'm usually not.&lt;br /&gt;But as soon as I had left the plane&lt;br /&gt;and once again found myself soaring through the sky&lt;br /&gt;it was all good. It all came back to me and it felt great!&lt;br /&gt;I messed up a bit with the landing though&lt;br /&gt;and had to land at an alternative landingfield.&lt;br /&gt;That's kind of become my thing, I'm &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quite the expert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at landing outside of the actual field...&lt;br /&gt;But I still passed aff level 5 without problems&lt;br /&gt;according to my instructor.&lt;br /&gt;Would have loved to complete level 6 as well, in that one&lt;br /&gt;I get to dive out of the plane and then proceed with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2 backflips!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait!!&lt;br /&gt;Fingers crossed for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;good weather&lt;/span&gt; next weekend!!&lt;br /&gt;I'm so close to having my A-certificate now!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Mr Skydiver just started &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;studying&lt;/span&gt; in august&lt;br /&gt;and will be the victim of the student hazing for the next month&lt;br /&gt;he didn't join me to the dropzone this time.&lt;br /&gt;I went there alone but of course I wasn't lonely.&lt;br /&gt;The dropzone was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;loaded with hotties!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really nice sometimes that us girls&lt;br /&gt;are a minority at the dropzone.&lt;br /&gt;Especially when you're &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;packing up your chute&lt;/span&gt; after having jumped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I absolutely hate this part!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All you have to do is look a little helpless&lt;br /&gt;or maybe just even bored for a few seconds&lt;br /&gt;and all of the sudden you have more than one of these&lt;br /&gt;boys packing up your chute for you&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; flirting shamelessly&lt;/span&gt; in the progress.&lt;br /&gt;I know, I'm bad and will eventually have to learn&lt;br /&gt;to do this properly myself but I just didn't feel like it this time!&lt;br /&gt;And it's good to know you don't always have to =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I was suppose to go to the dropzone once again&lt;br /&gt;but as I mentioned the weather sucked so i stayed home&lt;br /&gt;just doing nothing all day.&lt;br /&gt;While I was doing just this, nothing&lt;br /&gt;the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;doorbell&lt;/span&gt; suddenly rang followed with the turning of keys&lt;br /&gt;and Mr Skydiver standing there all surprised to see me.&lt;br /&gt;He thought I'd be at the dropzone and had&lt;br /&gt;just stopped by to grab his bag full of books for school&lt;br /&gt;that he had left there earlier last week.&lt;br /&gt;Don't really know if I like him &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;having keys&lt;/span&gt; to my place...&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's good, like tonight when he's&lt;br /&gt;sleeping at my place but will probably&lt;br /&gt;be quite late due to the hazing. That way I don't have to&lt;br /&gt;make my way downstairs and let him in the building.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not sure I'm up for these surprise visits just yet.&lt;br /&gt;Sure, he didn't mean to drop in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;uninvited,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he did think I wouldn't be home but still.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;steal back&lt;/span&gt; my keys tonight, we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okey, reading through this I realized it was all&lt;br /&gt;kind of skydiving related.&lt;br /&gt;But I really don't have anything else remotely interesting&lt;br /&gt;to write about so there you have it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-6700249632528363693?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/6700249632528363693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=6700249632528363693&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6700249632528363693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6700249632528363693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/09/5-down-5-to-go.html' title='5 down, 5 to go!'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-1807225478846784799</id><published>2007-08-28T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T23:56:06.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ex-factor x2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of the more &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sucky things&lt;/span&gt; about seeing someone&lt;br /&gt;or even having a boyfriend really is that sooner or later it often&lt;br /&gt;ends in that person &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;becoming an ex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the bitter truth and we all know it.&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, most of my previous boys don't&lt;br /&gt;live anywhere nere here so it makes things easier.&lt;br /&gt;Don't think I've mentioned this but I used to live in a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;crappy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;small-town,&lt;/span&gt; but almost a year ago&lt;br /&gt;I decided it just wasn't enough for me, quit my job&lt;br /&gt;managed to get an apartment with a friend in the big city&lt;br /&gt;and just took a chance and moved, no job or nothing.&lt;br /&gt;As you've probably guessed &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it paid off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A certain ex of mine&lt;/span&gt; who is currently living&lt;br /&gt;in said crappy town has now decided to move.&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you take one guess on where he's decided to go...&lt;br /&gt;Yep, he's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;coming here...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell how syked I am about this?&lt;br /&gt;No? Good, you couldn't be more right.&lt;br /&gt;This is bad. Like, maybe this isn't the city for me after all.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should move? Screw the fact that I love this city and&lt;br /&gt;basically everything about it,&lt;br /&gt;if he's moving here maybe I should reconsider...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know I make him out to be a complete monster&lt;br /&gt;but that's not the case. It's just...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just complicated&lt;/span&gt;, okay?&lt;br /&gt;For starters, we have quite the history between us.&lt;br /&gt;We were a couple for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4 ½ years&lt;/span&gt;, starting when we were only 16.&lt;br /&gt;Though we had a lot of great times over the years&lt;br /&gt;there was also the constant drama. Long story,&lt;br /&gt;don't really feel like sharing the details right now.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I finally realized I couldn't go on like that.&lt;br /&gt;I loved him, I did,&lt;br /&gt;but I just wasn't IN love with him anymore&lt;br /&gt;and so I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;broke up&lt;/span&gt; with him.&lt;br /&gt;It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this we've tried the whole friendship thing&lt;br /&gt;but somehow it just&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; isn't working&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I've felt quite relieved not to have him close by.&lt;br /&gt;Guess that'll all change now.&lt;br /&gt;Why!!!??&lt;br /&gt;Why can't he pick somewhere else to move??&lt;br /&gt;I know what will happen and all I got to say is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hello drama...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm lucky maybe he'll even move in next door to me.&lt;br /&gt;That's what he did the last time.&lt;br /&gt;I had lived in my new apartment for just a few months&lt;br /&gt;and out of nowhere he chose to move into the house next to mine...&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the joy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did write ex-factor &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;x 2&lt;/span&gt; in my headline&lt;br /&gt;and that is cause at the same time as this is going on&lt;br /&gt;another ex decides to rear its ugly head.&lt;br /&gt;I dated this guy for maybe 2 months before the summer&lt;br /&gt;before he suddenly out of the blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wasn't feeling the sparks &lt;/span&gt;between us&lt;br /&gt;and so we called it off. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(a.k.a he dumped me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did decide to meet up soon cause the idiot&lt;br /&gt;had given me his spare keys to his place.&lt;br /&gt;I figured he'd call me about them but do ya think he did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did contact me in june to tell me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he made a mistake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in dumping me and he wanted me back.&lt;br /&gt;Idiot actually thought he had a chance of getting me back.&lt;br /&gt;I played the part of the icequeen and simply asked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;when &lt;/span&gt;he'd be wanting his keys returned.&lt;br /&gt;I then started my skydiving&lt;br /&gt;and after a week met a certain Skydiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Still have the keys&lt;/span&gt; in my purse.&lt;br /&gt;Last week however he finally asked for them&lt;br /&gt;and since I was superbusy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(yeah right...)&lt;/span&gt; all week&lt;br /&gt;we decided to do it this week.&lt;br /&gt;I can't say I'm looking forward to this either.&lt;br /&gt;Though as you can imagine I have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no choice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but to look drop-dead gorgeous when we do meet.&lt;br /&gt;If we actually do meet that is,&lt;br /&gt;guy hasn't called me yet this week.&lt;br /&gt;If I had his adress I would mail him&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; his stupid keys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just to get rid of him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even if the exes are a huge headache most of the time&lt;br /&gt;and sometimes make you seriously consider celibacy&lt;br /&gt;there are some things that makes it worth it.&lt;br /&gt;Like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;waking up next to a hot boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who has his arms around you.&lt;br /&gt;Last night, tonight and probably tomorrow night too.&lt;br /&gt;Me likey a lot!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-1807225478846784799?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/1807225478846784799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=1807225478846784799&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1807225478846784799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1807225478846784799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/ex-factor-x2.html' title='The ex-factor x2'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-2216622293887982543</id><published>2007-08-27T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T04:44:53.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>V.I.P - That's me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am so tired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Party&lt;/span&gt; on Saturday. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;V.I.P&lt;/span&gt; since the club we went to&lt;br /&gt;was being organized by a boyfriend of one of my girls.&lt;br /&gt;This meant our own table&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;packed with tasty coctails and sparkling wine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can probably imagine we got pretty wasted.&lt;br /&gt;As usual, lots of dancing took place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the night we were all up &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dancing on the tables.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet are still in pain from dancing in my new stilettos all night.&lt;br /&gt;Someone even came up to me while dancing just to&lt;br /&gt;say that they were amazed of my dancing in those heels.&lt;br /&gt;And it was so worth the pain!&lt;br /&gt;Such a great night. 5 am I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;crashed on my couch,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah that's right. I didn't even make it to the bed.&lt;br /&gt;Well, not until the stupid sun woke me up&lt;br /&gt;and I dragged my ass into the bedroom, close the blinds&lt;br /&gt;and the door and slept til 4 in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won't be partying for a couple of weekends now,&lt;br /&gt;I'll be at &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the dropzone&lt;/span&gt; hoping to complete my 5 remaining jumps.&lt;br /&gt;By the end of september I must have my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A-certificate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just hoping the weather won't fuck up my plans,&lt;br /&gt;the wind here these days really isn't meant for skydiving...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, found out what &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr Skydiver &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;had planned for my birthday. He is taking me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;scubadiving&lt;/span&gt; =)&lt;br /&gt;I had told him I eventually want to achieve a certificat for that too&lt;br /&gt;and apparently he listened to me!&lt;br /&gt;We couldn't do it this weekend though as he had planned.&lt;br /&gt;He couldn't find an instructor, so we'll do it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, switching topic now.&lt;br /&gt;I've been having these &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really annoying dreams&lt;/span&gt; lately&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;( I know it's completely irrelevant to the rest of the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;but it's my blog so you can either read it or not.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which is totally fucking up my sleap!!&lt;br /&gt;I keep &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dreaming I'm ill&lt;/span&gt;, like fatally, need lots of surgery&lt;br /&gt;and still probably wont make it- ill.&lt;br /&gt;So I figured I'll try and find out what this really means&lt;br /&gt;and searched an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;online dream interpretaion thingie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They gave me this answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Perhaps you are wallowing in your own self-pity.&lt;br /&gt;You need to quit feeling sorry for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tnx a lot.&lt;br /&gt;And on that note, I'll be getting back to work now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                                                                                                            &lt;/span&gt;               &lt;p style="margin-left: 15px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 0pt;" align="left"&gt;                                                            &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-left: 15px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 0pt;" align="left"&gt;                                             &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;               &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-left: 15px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 0pt;" align="left"&gt;                                             &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;               &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-2216622293887982543?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/2216622293887982543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=2216622293887982543&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/2216622293887982543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/2216622293887982543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/vip-thats-me.html' title='V.I.P - That&apos;s me!'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-1230020950767459283</id><published>2007-08-21T01:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T04:34:50.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday, and we're one day closer to the weekend!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Okay, so &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no wild and crazy poledancing&lt;/span&gt; for me this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;(saving that for next weekend)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I accompanied some friends to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the Casino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where I had planned on loosing some money.&lt;br /&gt;Instead my wallet was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;packed with cash&lt;/span&gt; by the time I got home!!&lt;br /&gt;Never thought I was such an amazing&lt;br /&gt;pokerplayer did ya, huh huh??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okey, I admit it. I'm a crappy liar.&lt;br /&gt;I actually suck at poker. I won the money&lt;br /&gt;in one of those &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;slot machines&lt;/span&gt; that are almost always occupied&lt;br /&gt;by grannys who spend hours at the same machine&lt;br /&gt;with a bucket of coins between their legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But not this time granny!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When I realized I had actually won&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;what would be about 50 USD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I naturally proceeded to push the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"cash out"&lt;/span&gt; button&lt;br /&gt;but instead on starting to spew out coins at me&lt;br /&gt;the machine said to call an attendant.&lt;br /&gt;One came over and guess what??&lt;br /&gt;I actually didn't win 50, no no,&lt;br /&gt;I won 50 x 5!! I walked away from there with no less than&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;250 USD!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(to the rest of you that might not be a lot of money,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but to me it's a fortune. At least this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I got more bills than I've had in like forever, so back off!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Think I'll celebrate my winnings with &lt;span&gt;a new pair of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;shoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; about my plans for the cash.&lt;br /&gt;He started counting my collection of shoes&lt;br /&gt;and then he just shook his&lt;br /&gt;head in disbelief and told me I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I didn't tell him&lt;br /&gt;that I have more than the ones he saw...&lt;br /&gt;He would never understand, boys never do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Oh, that's right.&lt;br /&gt;Better inform you guys&lt;br /&gt;that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gone off the single market&lt;/span&gt; again.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the ideas I had about things being shitty&lt;br /&gt;between me and &lt;span&gt;Mr Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; were all in my head.&lt;br /&gt;And I know I've said it before but trust me when I say it's&lt;br /&gt;worth repeating. He's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what that means don't you?&lt;br /&gt;Chances of him turning out to be a complete asshole&lt;br /&gt;are &lt;span&gt;that much higher...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we'll see. I'll keep you updated of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lessons learnt during the weekend:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;# I'm a better bowler when pissed off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went bowling with a friend and her boyfriend on Friday&lt;br /&gt;and I don't really remember exactly what he said&lt;br /&gt;but I know it made me furious. I took out my agression&lt;br /&gt;on the poor innocent pins and suddenly bowled strike after strike&lt;br /&gt;after strike after..well you get the picture?&lt;br /&gt;This coming from the same girl who last time I bowled&lt;br /&gt;threw the bowling ball behind me instead of at the pins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;# Apparently I suck at poolplaying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(or billiard or whatever you wanna call it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and loosing to a guy pisses me off so much I could easily&lt;br /&gt;bowl 10 strikes in a row. &lt;span&gt;Mr Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; whopped my ass yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;Next time we play I'll make sure he's drunk, or that I am,&lt;br /&gt;don't really know which alternative would be best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-1230020950767459283?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/1230020950767459283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=1230020950767459283&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1230020950767459283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/1230020950767459283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/tuesday-and-were-one-day-closer-to.html' title='Tuesday, and we&apos;re one day closer to the weekend!!'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-7673644883688182254</id><published>2007-08-17T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T05:53:07.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaky Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I got a comment from miss &lt;a href="http://confessionsofabottleblonde.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bottleblonde&lt;/a&gt; in my last post saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Let me get this straight. You are a young, thin and limber hot girl who has no problem contorting herself to demonstrate her flexibility? Am I the only one in the room who notices the irony here - that you are dating only ONE guy?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://confessionsofabottleblonde.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That got me thinking and I decided she's absolutely right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(and also the way things are going with Mr Skydiver I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;think that number just went down to me dating zero guys)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So now I'm "open for business again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In addition&lt;/span&gt; to what Blondie just said about me I have a hot ass,&lt;br /&gt;big boobs (real, I might add)&lt;br /&gt;and sometimes I suspect I might be a nymphomaniac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually have very high standards for potential dates but&lt;br /&gt;reviewing the most recent guys I've been involved with&lt;br /&gt;I can say that if you have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;muscular arms or nice abs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those standards usually go out the window&lt;br /&gt;as soon as you take off your shirt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hey, why not? Girls are welcome to play too.&lt;br /&gt;I don't seem to understand guys so maybe I'll have better&lt;br /&gt;luck with the girls? But you better be hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any applications for a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;date&lt;/span&gt; can be sent to stiletto84@blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think I'll go out tomorrow. The goal is for&lt;br /&gt;me to get incredibly drunk and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dance&lt;/span&gt; until my feet starts bleeding.&lt;br /&gt;Won't be too hard though, don't take much alcohol&lt;br /&gt;for that to happen and since I only go out dancing in&lt;br /&gt;shoes that make my feet bleed at the mere sight of them&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;barefoot&lt;/span&gt; on the way home or grab a taxi as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self before going out tomorrow:&lt;br /&gt;ERASE Mr Skydivers phonenumber in the interest&lt;br /&gt;of sparing myself the embarassment of waking up on Sunday,&lt;br /&gt;going trough the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sent Messages&lt;/span&gt;-bin in my phone and discovering&lt;br /&gt;the drunken messages I sent him that sounded sooo good&lt;br /&gt;in my drunken state but in the bitter daylight makes me look&lt;br /&gt;like a complete lunatic. Which I am.&lt;br /&gt;But no reason for him to know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make sure you drink a lot,&lt;br /&gt;dance on the tables or around the occasional pole,&lt;br /&gt;locate the hottest person in the club&lt;br /&gt;bring him/her home and have loads of crappy drunken sex&lt;br /&gt;that you'll regret in the morning when the person&lt;br /&gt;next to you looks nothing like the hottie you spotted the night before...&lt;br /&gt;Kick him out and then order a pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-7673644883688182254?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/7673644883688182254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=7673644883688182254&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/7673644883688182254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/7673644883688182254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-got-comment-from-miss-bottleblonde-in.html' title='Freaky Friday'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-759906231429451707</id><published>2007-08-16T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T06:51:25.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids, don't try this at home!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I really &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;should not&lt;/span&gt; be blogging right now. I should be busy working,&lt;br /&gt;actually have a lot to at work these days...but it's just sooo boring!&lt;br /&gt;...and did I mention that my boss wont be coming&lt;br /&gt;by the office anything this week?&lt;br /&gt;That equals me doing my job for about 30 % of the time, what I do with&lt;br /&gt;the rest of the time is an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;unsolved mystery&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;But in my defense...okay I don't really have a defense,&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a bad person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And apparently I am also a way more &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;clumpsy&lt;/span&gt; person&lt;br /&gt;than I could ever imagine.&lt;br /&gt;Just seconds after I wrote that last piece up there&lt;br /&gt;I had the brilliant idea of showing my co-workers exactly how&lt;br /&gt;far up in the air I could stretch my leg. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(don't ask why)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you're probably thinking I pulled something while stretching&lt;br /&gt;but nono, I used to dance so I'm pretty limber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BUT,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in some weird twisted way, somehow, don't ask me why,&lt;br /&gt;I managed to hurt my wrist. I think I kicked it,&lt;br /&gt;again don't ask me how. And since I have very &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;weak wrists&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it don't really take much for them to fail on me completely.&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm stuck with my left hand being completely useless&lt;br /&gt;and wrapped in a white elastic bandage.&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea just how &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;annoying&lt;/span&gt; typing with only&lt;br /&gt;one hand could be. Writing this post took me like forever.&lt;br /&gt;And now because I am handicapped my 30 % will naturally&lt;br /&gt;drop to maybe 15. Pure logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, one more hour. Then I can leave this place&lt;br /&gt;and go do more &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fulfilling &lt;/span&gt;things...yeah as if!&lt;br /&gt;I'll be spending my evening doing laundry.&lt;br /&gt;I am almost at the point now where I'll be forced to go&lt;br /&gt;to work either &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;naked or wrapped in my bedding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since that will soon be the only clean thing I'll find in my apartment.&lt;br /&gt;But hey, could make for an interesting workday.&lt;br /&gt;Some companys do have Casual Friday but since&lt;br /&gt;everyday here is casual maybe we could have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Naked Friday&lt;/span&gt; instead?&lt;br /&gt;I'll run that one by the boss on Monday. Maybe I could do it naked?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-759906231429451707?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/759906231429451707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=759906231429451707&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/759906231429451707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/759906231429451707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/kids-dont-try-this-at-home.html' title='Kids, don&apos;t try this at home!'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-6469127082246971850</id><published>2007-08-14T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T12:58:33.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys give me headache</title><content type='html'>Fuck. Think I'm well on my way of fucking this relationship up&lt;br /&gt;before it's hardly even gotten started.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it's him or not me, I don't know. I only know&lt;br /&gt;that something doesnt feel right. Small things that maybe aren't so&lt;br /&gt;small, but actually rather important. I don't know how to handle this.&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost. Fuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-6469127082246971850?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/6469127082246971850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=6469127082246971850&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6469127082246971850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6469127082246971850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/boys-give-me-headache.html' title='Boys give me headache'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-980002019682968056</id><published>2007-08-12T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T00:30:34.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pity me, please do.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I think I broke the record in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sneezing&lt;/span&gt; yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;And no, i'm not exaggerating one bit. Would I lie??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came down with this stupid cold on friday and from there&lt;br /&gt;it only got worse. I got myself a new best friend this weekend,&lt;br /&gt;his name is aspirin and we have gotten very close. Maybe he can replace&lt;br /&gt;one of my other supposedly good friends,&lt;br /&gt;namely the one who seems to have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;forgotten&lt;/span&gt; that&lt;br /&gt;said sickie turned 23 last tuesday. I still havent heard from her!!&lt;br /&gt;That's bad right? And that's coming from me, I have the memory&lt;br /&gt;of a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;senile goldfish&lt;/span&gt; and I have some experience in forgetting&lt;br /&gt;friends birthdays. BUT, while I may forget&lt;br /&gt;to give congrats on the actual date&lt;br /&gt;I ALWAYS, with no exception, suddenly remember&lt;br /&gt;and correct my horrific mistake within maybe 2 days.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow she will have had a week to step out of the senile state&lt;br /&gt;she apparently is in nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;She is coming very close to being &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cut from my christmas list...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I suspected I finally got to see my hot Skydiver this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;He has planned &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a surprise&lt;/span&gt; in honour of me getting one step closer&lt;br /&gt;to wrinkles and getting generally uglier....I wanna be 18 again...&lt;br /&gt;Whoops, got a little sidetracked there.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, he has something planned for 25th or 26th&lt;br /&gt;and the only thing he has told me is that I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can't be hungover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a bit much to ask, don't you think??&lt;br /&gt;I mean we are talking about a sat or sunday here,&lt;br /&gt;who is not hungover then??&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cant be skydiving&lt;/span&gt; since I have yet to complete&lt;br /&gt;my trainingjumps and get my A-certificate so now I'm very curious.&lt;br /&gt;Even if I don't know what to expect just yet&lt;br /&gt;I still think it was a great thing to give me something like that&lt;br /&gt;rather than something material.&lt;br /&gt;We havent been seeing each other for very long&lt;br /&gt;and gifts are always tricky in the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully his birthday was in june so I don't have to worry&lt;br /&gt;about what I'll get him. Well, not until christmas anyways&lt;br /&gt;and maybe by then I will have gotten bored with him.&lt;br /&gt;...I'm such a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I'm still sick, feeling like crap,&lt;br /&gt;looking exactly the way I feel and where am I?&lt;br /&gt;At work. I am stupid. That's all I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-980002019682968056?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/980002019682968056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=980002019682968056&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/980002019682968056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/980002019682968056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/pity-me-please-do.html' title='Pity me, please do.'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-4946841622051275055</id><published>2007-08-09T00:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T04:15:58.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay, so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm back&lt;/span&gt; from my week-long trip to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Iceland.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been so great to finally have returned there.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it's been &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8 years since I was there the last time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back then I stayed for the entire summer,&lt;br /&gt;working with my cousin at a park, took a trip to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;London&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for some serious shopping &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(gotta love the sales)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and also managed to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;loose my virginity&lt;/span&gt; to an icelandic guy named &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Garðar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's an okey summer, wouldn't u say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Anyway, back to this trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all I know I might &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;get hated&lt;/span&gt; now for writing this&lt;br /&gt;but since I don't even know if anyone reads this crap I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All u fat people, stop flying!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okey, that was a bit harsh. But at least could you start paying&lt;br /&gt;for two seats at the plane or maybe we could have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fat section??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as long as I don't have to sit next to you.&lt;br /&gt;Same goes for all you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;smelly people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels so good to have gotten that out of my system.&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to hate on me now. It's okey, I can take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides hating on fat and smelly people&lt;br /&gt;I have been to the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blue Lagoon&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(if u ever visit Iceland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;make sure you go there, it's really nice)&lt;/span&gt; and covered&lt;br /&gt;my face in the white &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Silica clay&lt;/span&gt; that is supposed to be great for the skin.&lt;br /&gt;Although while I was wearing that white mask I felt more like&lt;br /&gt;Charlize Theron in "Monster".  But I worked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I can also say that I have tried&lt;br /&gt;out the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;partyscene in Reykjavik &lt;/span&gt;and unfortunately&lt;br /&gt;I have to say I am a little disapointed. Not beacuse&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have fun, cause I sure did without a doubt!&lt;br /&gt;But because I had &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;expected more&lt;/span&gt;, at least when it comes to&lt;br /&gt;the places we went to. They were a bit small.&lt;br /&gt;But if we igonore the size of the clubs I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started our Saturday at the brother of a co-worker&lt;br /&gt;of my cousins on and off-boyfriend. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do ya follow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Played an icelandic drinking game &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(alcohol is the universal language)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Singstar &lt;/span&gt;where I kicked some serious ass.&lt;br /&gt;Me and my cousin then proceeded to the first club&lt;br /&gt;stayed there for a couple of hours &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dancing provocatively&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with the co-worker and his brother and then onto the next one&lt;br /&gt;doing exactly the same thing here until 6 am sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;The fact that said brother &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;has a girlfriend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wasn't all too obvious when we were dancing...&lt;br /&gt;Me in front of him dancing all stripper-style,&lt;br /&gt;cause that's what I do when I'm drunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(okey, who do I think I'm fooling? I always dance like that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's just say he seemed to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;appreciate it a little too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down boy, down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Visa&lt;/span&gt; was very pleased with the night as well.&lt;br /&gt;The only money I spent was the junk-food I ate before&lt;br /&gt;I decided to call it a night/morning/lunch, whatever you want to call it.&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the night got taken care of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;by the guys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I now feel obligated to make a statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I usually don't do this.&lt;/span&gt; I'm always paying for my own drinks&lt;br /&gt;when I'm out clubbing here in Sweden. I'm not one of "those" girls&lt;br /&gt;who let the guys buy the drinks for them and then just disapear.&lt;br /&gt;But that's Sweden, this was Iceland and I felt quite poor.&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how much they charge for a Smirnoff Ice&lt;br /&gt;or a Bacardi Breazer in Reykjavik?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Too bloody much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these wasn't just some random guys either.&lt;br /&gt;They had the pleasure of our company the entire night.&lt;br /&gt;Stripper-style dancing included for the both of them.&lt;br /&gt;You should be so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said brother then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;got ordered home&lt;/span&gt; by his girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;He even tried kissing me before leaving.&lt;br /&gt;My guess - he went home, had some drunken sex with his girl&lt;br /&gt;with the lights off and pictured it was me he was doing.&lt;br /&gt;The male sex is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;so predictable sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, I might sound self-centered and shit&lt;br /&gt;but had you been there you'd know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me? I only picture myself &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;with a certain skydiver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whom I have yet to see since returning to Svíþjóð. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(sweden in icelandic)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's working late this week and I start at 8. Not a good combo.&lt;br /&gt;I might have to wait til the weekend. On Saturday&lt;br /&gt;me and the girls are going to dinner and party to celebrate the fact that&lt;br /&gt;me and another girl &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;turned 23 this week.&lt;/span&gt; Yeah, that's right.&lt;br /&gt;On tuesday I became one year older...don't really get why that&lt;br /&gt;is something you should celebrate but hey a party is a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-4946841622051275055?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/4946841622051275055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=4946841622051275055&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/4946841622051275055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/4946841622051275055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/08/missed-me.html' title='Missed me?'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-379411878456605084</id><published>2007-07-30T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T23:41:43.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Iceland - Here I come</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well tecnically it's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not until tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I'm guessing this is the only time I will have to update before I leave.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also guessing that I'll have to wait until I get back home&lt;br /&gt;before I update again. Poor chances of me getting access to a computer&lt;br /&gt;and quite honestly I don't care. I have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;more important things planned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;than spending my time in front of the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, I'm sooo tired. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1 hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how much &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sleep&lt;/span&gt; I got tonight in total.&lt;br /&gt;That's so not good and such bad timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That's so me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So until next week, take care!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-379411878456605084?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/379411878456605084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=379411878456605084&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/379411878456605084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/379411878456605084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/07/iceland-here-i-come.html' title='Iceland - Here I come'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-39812413146618701</id><published>2007-07-30T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T00:54:11.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So much to do, so little time...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This weekend has just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;flown by soo fast!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I like that name, think I'll stick with calling him that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;came by on Friday and stayed until Saturday afternoon&lt;br /&gt;and after that it was time to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;meet the girls for some partying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt like it had been ages since I got to party&lt;br /&gt;and I really needed to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dance&lt;/span&gt; soo bad!!&lt;br /&gt;And then I convinced my guy to come in and join us&lt;br /&gt;so some of my friends got to meet him =)&lt;br /&gt;All in all, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a great night&lt;/span&gt; with a lot of dancing.&lt;br /&gt;Just the way I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm completely &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stressed out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday I'm going to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Iceland&lt;/span&gt; for a week&lt;br /&gt;and I still havent prepared at all!&lt;br /&gt;I don't even think I have a suitcase so after work I will have to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;go on a search&lt;/span&gt; for that. I also have to do my laundry&lt;br /&gt;cause I have practically&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; no clean clothes at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I have to call my grandmother in Iceland&lt;br /&gt;and find out if anyone can come and pick me up at the airport&lt;br /&gt;or if I have to find other transportations to Reykjavik.&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse I don't know if I'll be needing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my passport&lt;/span&gt; or not. I'm hoping I don't since my passport is&lt;br /&gt;at my parents place, three hours by car from here...&lt;br /&gt;You see where I'm going with this? I'm a complete mess&lt;br /&gt;and I will probably &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;miss my flight&lt;/span&gt; or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When will I learn not to postpone all these important things??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And if I had taken care of all these things earlier&lt;br /&gt;I could have joined &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Skydiver&lt;/span&gt; instead.&lt;br /&gt;Guess what he's doing today?&lt;br /&gt;Of course he's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;going skydiving...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, I'm stupid.&lt;br /&gt;At least he's coming to my place afterwards =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-39812413146618701?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/39812413146618701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=39812413146618701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/39812413146618701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/39812413146618701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/07/so-much-to-do-so-little-time.html' title='So much to do, so little time...'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-6746004487457320092</id><published>2007-07-27T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T04:37:51.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skydiving romance?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I forgot to mention another nice thing that my new interest gave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A hot hot skydiver.&lt;/span&gt; Me likey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks ago I spent an entire weekend + 3 days skydiving.&lt;br /&gt;Me and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the rest of the AFF-course&lt;/span&gt; were there&lt;br /&gt;hoping to complete at least our level 1 jumps&lt;br /&gt;but also to get to know the rest of the skydivers.&lt;br /&gt;One guy in particular caught my eye, damn he was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Nothing really happened, but you could feel that there was something there.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently he felt the same cause on saturday the weekend after&lt;br /&gt;he &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;questioned another girl&lt;/span&gt; from my AFF-course about me.&lt;br /&gt;Asked her for advice on how he was going to get me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cute as hell =P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gave him my phonenumber and he contacted me following week&lt;br /&gt;and asked me if I wanted to come along for some&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; skydiving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell yeah! So Monday and Tuesday we took roadtrips after work&lt;br /&gt;and finally Tuesday &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;things heated up&lt;/span&gt;. When he was dropping me off&lt;br /&gt;at home he asked me if I wanted to watch a movie or something&lt;br /&gt;and after that things went &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quite easy =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went back to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The dropzone &lt;/span&gt;on Wednesday&lt;br /&gt;and was a bit nervous about how we were going to act&lt;br /&gt;while &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;surrounded by the other skydivers...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but apparently I did'nt need to worry.&lt;br /&gt;He came up and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;kissed me&lt;/span&gt; in front of all the others.&lt;br /&gt;And then he spend the night at my place again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ahh, sometimes life is good :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-6746004487457320092?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/6746004487457320092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=6746004487457320092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6746004487457320092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/6746004487457320092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/07/skydiving-romance.html' title='Skydiving romance?'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8149333026532500561.post-4798552130311166346</id><published>2007-07-27T01:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T02:18:03.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm a cheater.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past month or so I have had in total&lt;br /&gt;maybe &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4 different blogs&lt;/span&gt;. I just can't seem to find the right tool&lt;br /&gt;to use when I'm sharing my very exciting life. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(it is actually, pinky-swear!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who knows, maybe I'm home now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Just a quickie on who I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a soon to be 23-year old shoeaholic.&lt;br /&gt;I have recently started &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;skydiving, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the goal is to have my A-certificate very soon so I can start&lt;br /&gt;leaping out of the plane on my own. Sounds crazy? It is,&lt;br /&gt;but hey, that's me! The day before yeasterday I completed level 4&lt;br /&gt;meaning I have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2 more trainingjumps to go + one examination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I make 3 jumps all on my own and after that&lt;br /&gt;I am officially a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;turkey.&lt;/span&gt; That's what they call us newbies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no words that can really describe the feeling&lt;br /&gt;you get when you skydive. I will just state the obvious,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's amazing!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8149333026532500561-4798552130311166346?l=stiletto84.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/feeds/4798552130311166346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8149333026532500561&amp;postID=4798552130311166346&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/4798552130311166346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8149333026532500561/posts/default/4798552130311166346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto84.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-did-it-again.html' title='I did it again'/><author><name>Stiletto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09441433346419358497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TAMVo2eD4zM/RqiPGH6QNqI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aK-4dJnlD_E/S269/bild1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
