<?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-5042000</id><updated>2011-12-07T09:18:27.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you Come From a Land down Under</title><subtitle type='html'>Life of a college kid. ups and downs. 311, incubus, O.A.R., music. Life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>280</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-116617633839517566</id><published>2006-12-15T02:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T02:52:18.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>someone here just really dislikes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;someone here just really dislikes me. great.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-116617633839517566?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/116617633839517566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=116617633839517566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116617633839517566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116617633839517566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/12/someone-here-just-really-dislikes.html' title='someone here just really dislikes'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-116418948301520325</id><published>2006-11-22T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T02:58:03.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i am really considering moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i am really considering moving to asu next year. i am pretty annoyed with flagstaff.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-116418948301520325?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/116418948301520325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=116418948301520325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116418948301520325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116418948301520325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-am-really-considering-moving.html' title='i am really considering moving'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-116217842545046845</id><published>2006-10-29T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T20:20:26.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vickie Pierce Hutchison</title><content type='html'>My mother died today. She had a garage sale earlier, and went inside to take a nap. My stepfather John went to walmart, and when he return she was squatting down next to the washer and dryer. She was purple. And then, she just closed her eyes. Nobody knows what happened. I hadn't talked to her in over a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-116217842545046845?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/116217842545046845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=116217842545046845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116217842545046845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116217842545046845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/10/vickie-pierce-hutchison.html' title='Vickie Pierce Hutchison'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-116156106053563286</id><published>2006-10-22T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T16:51:00.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst day ever.</title><content type='html'>I came out to my dad. I called home after I got off work and he was first to answer. He asked if I was ok, and I wasn't and still am not. I cracked. I broke down , and told him. He was crying too. I told him that I felt like I had let everyone down. I still do. He took it well, and tried to calm me down. my step mom said that I could have told them and it wouldn't of changed anything. It feels like it was. I am so lost right now. I don't even know what I should do. Matt and I are done, and that saddens me more than anything. My parents know. I don't know what to do about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-116156106053563286?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/116156106053563286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=116156106053563286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116156106053563286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/116156106053563286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/10/worst-day-ever.html' title='Worst day ever.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115872331447696506</id><published>2006-09-19T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T21:53:58.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh.</title><content type='html'>I haven't been in the greatest mood lately. I feel like I have been just barely here. I don't have jobs that pay well enough, and as of right now I have around $7 in my account. I am looking for a third job, but, with my schedule, its going to be really hard. I haven't really hung out with anyone much. and when I have, it just doesn't feel right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trudy and Kayla are moving to tennesse. Which means next semester I won't have them as roommates. I will have either strangers, or Tracy and a stranger. I hate NAU. I hate flagstaff. I hate having to buy groceries. I hate smoking. I hate feeling worthless. I feel like I don't have many real friends up here anymore. Matt, along with everyone else I met freshman year are to busy with their frat, and Butters moved away. Trudy and Kayla are moving at the end of the semester, and Stevies, well, Stevie is a dirty pirate hooker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115872331447696506?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115872331447696506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115872331447696506&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115872331447696506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115872331447696506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/09/ugh.html' title='Ugh.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115869640829341146</id><published>2006-09-19T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T13:06:51.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i feel fucked by life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i feel fucked by life.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115869640829341146?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115869640829341146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115869640829341146&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115869640829341146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115869640829341146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-feel-fucked-by-life.html' title='i feel fucked by life.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115859607037381090</id><published>2006-09-18T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T09:14:30.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i have spent the past</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i have spent the past 3 days stoned. i have been using it as an escape, but a rather unhealthy one.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115859607037381090?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115859607037381090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115859607037381090&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115859607037381090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115859607037381090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-have-spent-past.html' title='i have spent the past'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115830935806701725</id><published>2006-09-15T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T01:35:58.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Serious Rant.</title><content type='html'>So... I just watched a movie. It opened my eyes a little. Its a mainly gay oriented movie called "Eating Out"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason deep down inside me I am breaking apart. I haven't told my parents, and I think that next time my parents bring it up I might say something. I am so tired of hiding my life from my family. I feel disconnected. I feel as though I am not letting them know me at all. I have a huge weight on my shoulders that has been there since I can remember. I found myself wishing at the end of the movie that my parents were as accepting as those in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I have a deep down bit of homophobia, and that is weird because, well, I am one. If a guy is too flambouyant or feminine, I cringe inside a little and I don't really know why. I could blame it on my environment when I was a kid, but is that the real truth? I am out of that, and surrounded by people who accept me for who I am. So why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if there is a real god? how could he impose something like this on someone? To go down a path that is often looked down upon. Is it to show strength in diversity as Jesus did? Will I burn in Hell eternal for trying to be happy with myself? Or will me striving to be happy be enough? is there a god? Ever since I knew, I have always questioned. Its fucked up if I was born this way and will go to Hell because of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115830935806701725?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115830935806701725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115830935806701725&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115830935806701725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115830935806701725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/09/serious-rant.html' title='A Serious Rant.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115771062269412037</id><published>2006-09-08T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T03:17:13.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't know what to</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i don't know what to do any more. i feel as though i know my limits, but someone else doesn't and i am the one that ends up getting hurt.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115771062269412037?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115771062269412037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115771062269412037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115771062269412037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115771062269412037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-dont-know-what-to.html' title='i don&apos;t know what to'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115631700584659694</id><published>2006-08-23T00:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T00:10:06.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i really want to know</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i really want to know what the point is because i just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115631700584659694?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115631700584659694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115631700584659694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115631700584659694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115631700584659694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-really-want-to-know.html' title='i really want to know'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115491758408713252</id><published>2006-08-06T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T19:26:24.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What camp meant to me...</title><content type='html'>So I went back to camp for what really feels to be the last time. I saw ghosts the entire time. Flash backs of each memory. I wish that everyone knew what this camp was built of. Right now the whole structure is being ripped up and now it feels a little barren. It doesn't feel like home anymore. I never could have imagined Keith and Amanda leaving. But now that they are, I feel like I never really got the chance to say thank you.  Camp was the structure of my life. Its how I made friends, and how I learned to love. I feel empty inside. I feel like if I mess up, its for good. I won't have camp to come back to. I will just be by myself, and have no where to go. I wish I had gone this summer. I was forgotten during the past summer, and not many will try to remember. Friendships I held to be strong are beginning to crumble apart. I hope it will stay as alive as it has been for the past 6 years of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115491758408713252?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115491758408713252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115491758408713252&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115491758408713252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115491758408713252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-camp-meant-to-me.html' title='What camp meant to me...'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115441900501393795</id><published>2006-08-01T00:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T00:56:57.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>There are times when I can honestly look back at highschool, and just not care. I look at how people have changed, and where I am now, and I think its for the better. Tonight a friend from highschool added me on myspace. Its kind of eerie to look at life now. How everyone has grown and changed and how much distance has grown between people. I look at them, and I want something, yet I don't know what. I want to grow. I want someone to look at me and see some change, but I don't think it will happen. I don't think I have changed. I think I am in a rutt. Tonight has left me feeling somber.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115441900501393795?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115441900501393795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115441900501393795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115441900501393795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115441900501393795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/08/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115424025837779189</id><published>2006-07-29T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T00:05:43.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On Smoking</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/WYOXGNIddTo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;Even though I have been  4 days clean. I think this video gives me reason to start again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115424025837779189?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115424025837779189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115424025837779189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115424025837779189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115424025837779189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/07/on-smoking.html' title='On Smoking'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115424008471780336</id><published>2006-07-29T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T23:14:45.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/1600/B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I haven't posted in a while. But I ahve been pretty busy lately. Well, except for today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sex sells right? but is there a point at which it crosses a line? a clothingg company called Shai has come out with a catologue that is pretty much a fashionable sex video. They have different versions for different orientations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/1600/B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/320/B1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(ps... Not for kids)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the Link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sexpacking.com/home.php"&gt;http://www.sexpacking.com/home.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115424008471780336?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115424008471780336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115424008471780336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115424008471780336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115424008471780336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/07/so-i-havent-posted-in-while.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115223986822742251</id><published>2006-07-06T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T00:12:18.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Augusten B.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I lack the freedom he expresses in the book. Its how he can totally act upon his own free will. I am finding myself connecting to every thing that i an reading in running with scissors. It excites me that some day i might be able to right about my life someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115223986822742251?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115223986822742251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115223986822742251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115223986822742251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115223986822742251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/07/augusten-b.html' title='Augusten B.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115218150056462064</id><published>2006-07-06T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T03:25:00.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so vacation basically sucks. I</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;so vacation basically sucks. I would rather be working. Hopefully i get to choose where my vacation is next time. I am a slave to my grandma.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115218150056462064?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115218150056462064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115218150056462064&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115218150056462064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115218150056462064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/07/so-vacation-basically-sucks-i.html' title='so vacation basically sucks. I'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115148351201502560</id><published>2006-06-28T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T01:32:08.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i think matt is the</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i think matt is the best boyfriend ever. he sent me a video tonight and he pretty much made my week, and made me miss him even more.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115148351201502560?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115148351201502560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115148351201502560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115148351201502560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115148351201502560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-think-matt-is.html' title='i think matt is the'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115129625888038552</id><published>2006-06-25T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T21:31:11.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck Stevie</title><content type='html'>I like how every time I come home there is a mess all over the living room from stevies dog. and how it is never cleaned up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115129625888038552?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115129625888038552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115129625888038552&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115129625888038552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115129625888038552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/fuck-stevie.html' title='Fuck Stevie'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-115026311835351771</id><published>2006-06-13T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T22:31:59.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;img width="320" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/0/0613062227-718353.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;look at kayla!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This message was sent using PIX-FLIX Messaging service from Verizon Wireless!&lt;br /&gt;To learn how you can snap pictures with your wireless phone visit &lt;br /&gt;www.verizonwireless.com/getitnow/getpix.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To learn how you can record videos with your wireless phone visit www.verizonwireless.com/getitnow/getflix.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To play video messages sent to email, QuickTime? 6.5 or higher is required. Visit www.apple.com/quicktime/download to download the free player or upgrade your existing QuickTime? Player.  Note: During the download &lt;br /&gt;process when asked to choose an installation type (Minimum, Recommended or Custom), select Minimum for faster download.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-115026311835351771?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/115026311835351771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=115026311835351771&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115026311835351771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/115026311835351771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/look-at-kaylathis-message-was-sent.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114973832566920679</id><published>2006-06-07T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T20:45:25.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not to good</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I am not to good at this living thing. I line of wish something would happen to me.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114973832566920679?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114973832566920679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114973832566920679&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114973832566920679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114973832566920679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-am-not-to-good.html' title='I am not to good'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114973807307061713</id><published>2006-06-07T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T20:41:13.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i just want one moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;i just want one moment of private tranquility. i now have no food. oh but i do have water. i wish i could actually feel good for once.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114973807307061713?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114973807307061713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114973807307061713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114973807307061713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114973807307061713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-just-want-one-moment.html' title='i just want one moment'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114962860851190578</id><published>2006-06-06T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T14:16:49.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>by the sounds of things</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;by the sounds of things my mom isn't doing to great. she cut her wrists once when i was a kid. i hope its not a thought crossing her mind.&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114962860851190578?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114962860851190578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114962860851190578&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114962860851190578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114962860851190578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/by-sounds-of-things.html' title='by the sounds of things'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114953520725232917</id><published>2006-06-05T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T12:20:07.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/1600/0605061133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" height="240" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/320/0605061133.jpg" width="383" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Something I painted recently. The leaf in the left hand corner says hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114953520725232917?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114953520725232917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114953520725232917&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114953520725232917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114953520725232917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114949592305665602</id><published>2006-06-05T01:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T01:25:23.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stalemate.</title><content type='html'>So yet again I am at a stalemate with stevie. I understand that she is having problems with her dad, but when she takes it out on me, it truly makes me feel like shit. I have been trying to do little things for her, like for the past week I have been cooking for her, I have cleaned, I even agreed to pay the pet deposit next Friday (which I was going to wait another month for).&lt;br /&gt;It started last night when she told me to clean the apartment. It wasn't what she said, but the way she said it. It was like grinding gears. I did it anyways, but left a note saying that I was very hurt and felt very disrespected by the way she had said it. The next morning she screams at me about the note, so I just brush it aside, and agree to watch her dog. When she got back from lunch with her dad, she snapped at me. I am so fed up with her snapping at me constantly. I feel like everytime I talk to her I am not sure if she is going to snap at me or act normal. She is starting to relate closely to my moms bipolar tendencies. I am tired of doing things for her because I can't even get a thanks, let alone her treating me well. My mom already hates her from what I have said has gone on in the apartment. I was trying to convince her otherwise, but slowly I am starting to agree with my mom. I tried talking to stevie again tonight, only to be ignored. I don't feel like I am the one who should be apologizing in this situation, because I the one doing her favors. I am really not sure if I should even pay the deposit anymore, because what's the use? I can wait. I am the one shelling out $400 to pay it. Am I wrong?I really don't think so. My parents would freak if they knew I was paying that much right now.  I just want to be treated better, rather being stepped on and feeling like I am walking on eggshells around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;  This incubus song is exactly how I feel around her. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't want to talk to you anymore&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm afraid of what I might say&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bite my tongue everytime you come around&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hand over my heart I swear I've tried everything I could&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Within all my power two weeks and one hour&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I slaved and now I've got nothing to show&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh if only you'd grow taller than a brick wall&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;From now on I'm gonna start holding my breath&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you come around and you flex that fake grin&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cause something inside of me has said more than twice&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That breathing less air beats breathing you at all&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't want to talk to you anymore&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm afraid of what I might say&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bite my tongue everytime you come around&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hand over my mouth I'm earning the right to my silence&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In quiet discerning between ego and timing&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Good judgement is once again proving to me that it's&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Still worth it's weight in gold&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;From now on I'm gonna be so much more wary&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you start to speak and my warm blood starts to boil&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That seeing you is like pulling teethAnd hearing your voice is like chewing tin foil&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't want to talk to you anymore&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm afraid of what I might sayI bite my tongue everytime you come around&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;High fives to a better judgement&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By saying less today I will gain more&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Low two's to you my fickle friend&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who brought the art of silent war&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114949592305665602?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114949592305665602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114949592305665602&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114949592305665602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114949592305665602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/stalemate.html' title='Stalemate.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114947996619054815</id><published>2006-06-04T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T20:59:34.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;img width="320" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7162/145/0/0604062054-766190.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;look at stevies demon dog! i cant wait to get mine next weekend! woot!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This message was sent using PIX-FLIX Messaging service from Verizon Wireless!&lt;br /&gt;To learn how you can snap pictures with your wireless phone visit &lt;br /&gt;www.verizonwireless.com/getitnow/getpix.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To learn how you can record videos with your wireless phone visit www.verizonwireless.com/getitnow/getflix.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To play video messages sent to email, QuickTime? 6.5 or higher is required. Visit www.apple.com/quicktime/download to download the free player or upgrade your existing QuickTime? Player.  Note: During the download &lt;br /&gt;process when asked to choose an installation type (Minimum, Recommended or Custom), select Minimum for faster download.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114947996619054815?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114947996619054815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114947996619054815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114947996619054815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114947996619054815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/look-at-stevies-demon-dog-i-cant-wait.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114922793136364650</id><published>2006-06-01T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T22:58:51.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting June 12th I will</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Starting June 12th I will be working 65 hours a week, makind close to a grand every paycheck. It will get me away from the house. Hurrah! gross.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114922793136364650?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114922793136364650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114922793136364650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114922793136364650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114922793136364650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/06/starting-june-12th-i-will.html' title='Starting June 12th I will'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114897272673674129</id><published>2006-05-30T00:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T00:05:26.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so today went alright. I</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;so today went alright. I got ober time at work, so i ended up working 11 hours. My next paycheck should be around $500.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114897272673674129?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114897272673674129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114897272673674129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114897272673674129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114897272673674129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/so-today-went-alright-i.html' title='so today went alright. I'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114897271056909349</id><published>2006-05-30T00:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T00:05:10.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>But, Stevie changed her mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;But, Stevie changed her mind yet again. She decided that she is going to give her puppy away, thus making it impossible to pay the pet deposit&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114897271056909349?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114897271056909349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114897271056909349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114897271056909349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114897271056909349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/but-stevie-changed-her-mind.html' title='But, Stevie changed her mind'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114897270449666606</id><published>2006-05-30T00:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T00:05:04.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and paying rent. i thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;and paying rent. i thought the puppy would help me with depression. its what i was looking forward to...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114897270449666606?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114897270449666606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114897270449666606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114897270449666606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114897270449666606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/and-paying-rent-i-thought.html' title='and paying rent. i thought'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114889222150350578</id><published>2006-05-29T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T01:43:41.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I honestly think that Matt</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I honestly think that Matt is the only reason i stayed at NAU.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114889222150350578?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114889222150350578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114889222150350578&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114889222150350578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114889222150350578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-honestly-think-that-matt.html' title='I honestly think that Matt'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114880977133509043</id><published>2006-05-28T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T02:49:32.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun.</title><content type='html'>One of the most annoying things about living with others is realizing their norm. For me, my norm is to make up my mind quickly, and follow through with what I originally had set as a plan. Most of the times this works, but sometimes one has to reorganize their thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;For Stevie this does not hold true. I have seen her go back and forth on so many things, one of the most annoying things is pet rent. She held onto the idea of paying the pet rent off next week for about a week and changed her mind once again. This is what the first fight was about, but I am trying with all my strength not to scream. She drives me literally batty.&lt;br /&gt;Matt called tonight, and tried to help me with the depression that has set in. Even though he gave me as much help as he could, the answer is simple. I miss him, and everyday that he hasn't been here, has been worse then the last. I no longer feel good about myself. I feel as though I am slowly suffocating, and I have watched far to many sunrises this week because of the insomnia depression has given me. I think if I did have the puppy up here, I might be a little happier, but I really cant see that happening. I just see me sitting in my room at this keyboard typing about how I wish things could be. I no longer care about anything around me. Every time I go to sleep I just don't want to wake up. I want to just be unconsious. I thought this summer would be great, but now the saying "There is no never ending banquet under the sun" rings all to true in my mind...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114880977133509043?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114880977133509043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114880977133509043&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114880977133509043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114880977133509043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/sun.html' title='Sun.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114873430125989868</id><published>2006-05-27T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T05:51:41.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't even know if</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I don't even know if i am sure about this whole blogging thing anymore. Is it actually releiving stress, or merly making me contemplate my life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114873430125989868?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114873430125989868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114873430125989868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114873430125989868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114873430125989868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-dont-even-know-if.html' title='I don&apos;t even know if'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114873390640751771</id><published>2006-05-27T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T05:47:43.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;img width="320" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6334/828/0/0527060505a-706407.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Sometimes it freaks me out. life that is. Just thinking about everything that is going on in my life makes me cringe a little inside. i am trying to figure out what is going on, but i am a little depressed and struggle with the thought of even attempting to get my life together. I am still way to dependent on my parents, but without them, don't even know where i might be be. I miss Matt more and more each day and its not getting  any better only worse...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This message was sent using PIX-FLIX Messaging service from Verizon Wireless!&lt;br /&gt;To learn how you can snap pictures with your wireless phone visit &lt;br /&gt;www.verizonwireless.com/getitnow/getpix.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To learn how you can record videos with your wireless phone visit www.verizonwireless.com/getitnow/getflix.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To play video messages sent to email, QuickTimeï¿½ 6.5 or higher is required. Visit www.apple.com/quicktime/download to download the free player or upgrade your existing QuickTimeï¿½ Player.  Note: During the download &lt;br /&gt;process when asked to choose an installation type (Minimum, Recommended or Custom), select Minimum for faster download.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114873390640751771?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114873390640751771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114873390640751771&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114873390640751771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114873390640751771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/sometimes-it-freaks-me-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114837763099848055</id><published>2006-05-23T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T02:47:11.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inventory.</title><content type='html'>after expecting to work till 8 I was pleased to find that we got out early. I donated blood at around 9:30 today, and it left me a bit woozy, but was worth getting $25. I think that I might end up coming up short for next months rent, but I really don't want to call my parents and ask them. I hopefully got the job at the Flag Y. I am kind of depressed, as Matt really didn't want to talk to me tonight while he was on the phone with stevie. I am going to watch smallville,  go to bed, and then go to work. What a useless summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114837763099848055?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114837763099848055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114837763099848055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114837763099848055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114837763099848055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/inventory.html' title='Inventory.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114828809971657720</id><published>2006-05-22T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T01:55:56.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blues</title><content type='html'>I don't know if moving off campus was such a good idea. I feel as though I am strapped for cash, which I am. I am constantly feeling horrible about going to the movies and buying the smallest of things. I wish this was a bit simpler for me, but it has been rough. I owe 1000 for my credit card, and am struggleing to make payments. I wanted to save up for the pet deposit, but I feel like that is a hopeless situation.&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though I am slowly going insane even with the pressures of school off of my back. I have to work at 12:30pm tomorrow, but before, I have to donate plasma, and fill out paperwork for what I am assuming is a better job. I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114828809971657720?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114828809971657720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114828809971657720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114828809971657720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114828809971657720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/blues_22.html' title='Blues'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-114827342467012565</id><published>2006-05-21T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T21:50:24.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The norm?</title><content type='html'>So it has been over a year since I have last posted. I have come to realize that this was one of my only vents before everything first started, and that I have kept alot bottled up. This year has been pretty eventfull, as I have now moved off campus and am starting to really worry about life after college. Matt is living in Boston for the summer, and I am a little out of it because of that.  There has been way to much change in the past 12 monthes, and now I feel hopelessly lost. I want to succeed, but for some reason it just doesn't seem to be my nature. I have come to terms with myself in certain ways, but I can no longer grasp who I want to be. I lost my whole notion of being myself, and have found myself directly reflecting everyone I hang out with. I am no longer whole, but fragmented pieces of who I used to be. I have no idea how to get myself back.&lt;br /&gt;    I started smoking. I slightly blame it on Matt, but I realize that it was completly my choice. I drink less than I did when I first came to college. Pot is an occasional luxury.&lt;br /&gt;    I sometimes look at myself and try and imagine what I am like through someone elses eyes. So far, I don't like what I see, right now I feel as though I am annoying selfish and beyond all reasonable doubt bitter.  I have lost everything that I used to stand for, and now it is not unusual to find me wanting to curl up in the corner of a dark room. College has changed everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-114827342467012565?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/114827342467012565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=114827342467012565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114827342467012565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/114827342467012565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2006/05/norm.html' title='The norm?'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110611982966100078</id><published>2005-01-19T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T00:30:29.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You said happy.</title><content type='html'>So I guess this is goodbye. I truthfully only whine and complain in this thing and it does not seem to be a completly worthwile commitment. Most have stopped reading it and in the end I guess it may have let people see something in me. For Now, I am laying this blog down to rest after this last entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I can hardly stand the person I have become. I changed so much. I think that in a way I was more true to myself in my last year of highschool. Lately I have been dragged down by most peoples expectations.  I hope that anyone who reads this does not turn out like I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Who knows. You may find another blog somewhere on the web. Don't look to hard.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110611982966100078?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110611982966100078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110611982966100078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110611982966100078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110611982966100078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2005/01/you-said-happy.html' title='You said happy.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110283184211016071</id><published>2004-12-11T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-12-11T23:10:42.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>less weight more mass.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder why I am up here at NAU. Yeah, I have alot of friends, but I can not truthfully say that I am always happy up here. I crave change and yet I have already fallen into a routine. Hopefully next semester will be different. Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110283184211016071?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110283184211016071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110283184211016071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110283184211016071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110283184211016071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/12/less-weight-more-mass.html' title='less weight more mass.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110272715585970557</id><published>2004-12-10T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T18:05:55.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jubalia.</title><content type='html'>You know you have a good job when parting is such sweet sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110272715585970557?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110272715585970557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110272715585970557&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110272715585970557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110272715585970557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/12/jubalia.html' title='Jubalia.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110271564655760711</id><published>2004-12-10T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T14:54:06.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Play by Play.</title><content type='html'>if someone were to ask what I had been doing these past couple of weeks, I don't know if I would be able to give then a straight forward answer. So much has happened it what seems like so little time, that I am amazed at how I am actually getting the grades that I am getting. I have so far stuck to my promise of not smoking weed, although I still have a bowl worth left.&lt;br /&gt;I am amazingly poor right now, I have been spending alot of money on christmas presents and this leaves me with nothing but a few bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am drinving up to tonopah on the 18th. My mom made it through the surgery and is still really sore. I am constantly worried now that the cancer is going to come back. I don't know how I am going to do on my finals, for I have not really opened any of my books in a good month and a half. This scares me as I don't think I will do that well. I do have to maintain a B average to keep my half tuition waiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I havent been keeping up with my art lately. Time just doesn't seem to be on my side. In that past month I have read Perks of Being a Wall Flower, Naked, and Eye's of the Dragon. The first two I really enjoyed that third gave me little interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next semester I am taking 19 credits. I am also working full time. Next semester is going to be hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110271564655760711?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110271564655760711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110271564655760711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110271564655760711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110271564655760711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/12/play-by-play.html' title='Play by Play.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110119723909773167</id><published>2004-11-23T01:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T01:07:19.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Release me</title><content type='html'>To release someone is to let them experience something they never thought possible.&lt;br /&gt;To know where ones life is going is boring.&lt;br /&gt;To have spontaneity and originality is a virtue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110119723909773167?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110119723909773167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110119723909773167&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110119723909773167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110119723909773167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/11/release-me.html' title='Release me'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110093132657309234</id><published>2004-11-19T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-19T23:15:26.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU DONT KNOW ME.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;YOU NEVER WILL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/Jon.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110093132657309234?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110093132657309234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110093132657309234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110093132657309234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110093132657309234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/11/you-dont-know-me.html' title='YOU DONT KNOW ME.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110076409070935221</id><published>2004-11-18T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T00:48:10.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resist Temptation.</title><content type='html'>In the past couple of days have had more work and studying than I think in the semester combined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Callie and Amanda worry about me to much. Yes I get depressed more often than I show it, but I truthfully just dont feel like I have to dump so much shit on them. I think everyone has enough of their own stuff to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have not been exactly happy, although I have not been exactly sad either. I am in the middle ground with a somewhat somber feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are drifting. I knew it was to come so I don't know why it is coming to such a surprise to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School ends in about a month and with that I am grateful. NAU is nice, but I need a break. I need to be away from everything here for awhile. I need to find myself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't worry about me, you need not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110076409070935221?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110076409070935221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110076409070935221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110076409070935221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110076409070935221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/11/resist-temptation.html' title='Resist Temptation.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-110029356519267634</id><published>2004-11-12T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-12T14:06:05.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prosthetic Limb and a can of soup.</title><content type='html'>Coming from math today I found a praking services officer writting me a ticket for parking in the wrong lot. I didn't say anything , and just took it. After all, he was just doing his job. It wasnt a big ticket. Just 30 bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next few days that I am going to be working, I am going to be getting more hours. In 2 weeks I work 6 hours straight on friday. that would make up more than half of one of my paychecks now. Next week I will be working 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished reading life of pi. I really enjoyed the escape that it gave me even though it was temporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom was supposed to have her surgery yesterday, but she rescheduled for the end of the month. I really wish she hadn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad that I am going home for the weekend. I need a break from everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My choices lately have not been good. Not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-110029356519267634?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/110029356519267634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=110029356519267634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110029356519267634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/110029356519267634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/11/prosthetic-limb-and-can-of-soup.html' title='Prosthetic Limb and a can of soup.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109978960159552671</id><published>2004-11-06T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T18:06:41.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight Snap.</title><content type='html'>I found out my mom has breast cancer. And theres nothing I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109978960159552671?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109978960159552671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109978960159552671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109978960159552671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109978960159552671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/11/midnight-snap.html' title='Midnight Snap.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109954931822693736</id><published>2004-11-03T23:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T23:21:58.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>274...The Continuation of a bad president.</title><content type='html'>Last Friday I went to a party that was I think the best party I have been to. I think I am more of a small party person. Big parties just seem so irresponsible. KT and Justin's apartment was a very good place to have it, there was also no shortage of alcohol. I ended up crashing at around 3 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I went to a halloween party, where I ended up stealing Shandas costume and became an identity crisis. I got drunk, and while in this state, I smoked so ganje. I did not mean to, and now I can only hope that there will not be a random drug test. Later that night I got kicked out of the party for peeing in a corner outside. I got back in after 5 minutes, and only stayed 10 more. I walked back to the dorm , while doing so , Matt and I met a giant inflated penis. We tried smoking Hookah in my room, where Kyle proceeded to burn a hole in my chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning I drove down to Phoenix and at around 11 am I established my Voice. I voted for Kerry. This was followed by watching the presidential race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to Something Corporate's CD North on the drive down and back up nonstop. I enjoy their music far more than I ever thought that I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was very sad to find that bush had 274 electoral votes, and that Kerry had conceded. For some reason I feel as though my vote did not count. I hope it did. We can only hope for a better president in 4 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109954931822693736?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109954931822693736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109954931822693736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109954931822693736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109954931822693736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/11/274the-continuation-of-bad-president.html' title='274...The Continuation of a bad president.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109867884244199456</id><published>2004-10-24T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T21:34:02.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...for the first time in my life, I understand the end of that poem. And I never wanted to. You have to believe me.</title><content type='html'>If one were to ask me what is going on with me lately, I truthfully dont think that I could give you an absolute aswer. I really don't know where my head has been lately. Some of my reasoning just isnt where it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the grudge on saturday with alisha and brittany. That was the scariest bad movie I have seen .  The night ended with me getting smashed after dropping everyone off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am drinking to much. I feel like I have not accomplished very much of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts have been so boughed down lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish everything wasnt going by so fast. I just want to scream, "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!". I thought about how my life is starting to fast forward. 9 weeks have past since my arrival and I feel as though it is my second. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really havent been trying hard up here and I am getting B's in all of my classes. Next semester I am taking 3 art classes along with what ever else fits. I am going to keep myself busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am begin to not like the person I am becoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109867884244199456?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109867884244199456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109867884244199456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109867884244199456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109867884244199456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/10/for-first-time-in-my-life-i-understand.html' title='...for the first time in my life, I understand the end of that poem. And I never wanted to. You have to believe me.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109817174810871704</id><published>2004-10-19T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T00:42:28.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good. The Bad. The ugly.</title><content type='html'>The good: we all had a fatty fire going on in the smokers area. It was nice, we had it in a little cage, newspapers were far to plentiful. We smoked lots O' hookah and had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bad: I ended up getting written up for the fire. No biggie I guess, but now I hill most likely have a meeting with the RHD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend was great, besides finding that Wes, Callie and Jessica are all moving away next semester. Friday night I drank , went to a party. The police came an hour after we did, and I almost got an MIP. Luckily, Kyle and breena decided to run, so the police chased after them while they ended up hiding in a bush. We then walked back to Sechrest. Saturday I went over to Wes's house with Callie and Jessica. We played a plethora of card games, and I ended up getting fucked up. We ended up leaving after a kickass pizza, some cheesy bread and some kickers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I convinced a kid not to think suicidaly with one word. Shibee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the group is starting to drift. a couple of people that were always with us now seem scarce. I hope that this is not the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I don't know if my parents are coming up this weekend or not. This will decide what my weekend will consist of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This night has been long and I have psychology in the Morn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shibee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109817174810871704?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109817174810871704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109817174810871704&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109817174810871704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109817174810871704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/10/good-bad-ugly.html' title='The Good. The Bad. The ugly.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109800435082099689</id><published>2004-10-17T02:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T02:12:30.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The cost.</title><content type='html'>I feel like I am at a loss for the people that I actually came here to see. They are all leaving within the next three months and this saddens me more than I ever thought it would. I thought that they might be life long friends, but now I feel uncertain as to whether they are. I really hope that no one completly leaves everyone behind, but I know it is bound to happen. and all I will be left with are these memories of good times. I dont even know what to do anymore. but for now all I can do is sleep. and hopefully I wont remeber this in the morning. but I fear that I most likely will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109800435082099689?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109800435082099689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109800435082099689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109800435082099689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109800435082099689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/10/cost.html' title='The cost.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109757162355446007</id><published>2004-10-12T01:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-12T02:00:23.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth is just another lie within itself.</title><content type='html'>So I thought that I would be updating at least once a week, but that just doesnt seem to be the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out that my mom might have cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have had way to much time on my hands. It lets me think to much. I think I am starting to get depressed, which leads me to this. I am going to start working out. When you excercise you release endorphins, which are a natural antidepressant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I had gotten into an art class. Any art class. I used to be able to draw so well, but now it is disapearing. I feel like I dont have any of the artistic ability that I gained last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not called megan since returning on sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am emotionally retarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109757162355446007?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109757162355446007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109757162355446007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109757162355446007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109757162355446007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/10/truth-is-just-another-lie-within.html' title='Truth is just another lie within itself.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109722431588896523</id><published>2004-10-08T01:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T01:31:55.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>live like today is your last one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109722431588896523?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109722431588896523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109722431588896523&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109722431588896523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109722431588896523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/10/live-like-today-is-your-last-one.html' title='live like today is your last one.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109713748412840196</id><published>2004-10-07T01:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T01:24:44.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decompose</title><content type='html'>What if this is all wrong. What if this is not they way its supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding things happening in my life that I no longer have control over. I don't even know what to do anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109713748412840196?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109713748412840196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109713748412840196&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109713748412840196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109713748412840196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/10/decompose.html' title='Decompose'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109602053348105232</id><published>2004-09-24T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-24T03:08:53.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk on thursday....</title><content type='html'>I never fucking realized that I could get fucked up on a thursday as aposed to fridays. I am excited about thursdays from now on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got so fucking wasted, I came up with the phrase "whats cold, and whats sleep"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily , some of my good friends have criminalogy in the morning, otherwise I would be totally fucked, that is right, no class at 8, fuck that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I saw stevey B. and David today, they were both fucking drunk off their asses and I realized that the reason that I dont see them as much is because they hang with a different group...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow, I can barely see straight, so I think its best to go to bed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buenos noches senoritas y senors...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109602053348105232?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109602053348105232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109602053348105232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109602053348105232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109602053348105232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/drunk-on-thursday.html' title='Drunk on thursday....'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109566939121915288</id><published>2004-09-20T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T23:09:46.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend</title><content type='html'>So this weekend, we all decided to venture to matts cabin in Prescott... The following is the results of 2 30 pks of Bud light and Coors light, 1 12 pk of Corona, 1 6pk of Rolling Rock, 1 6 pk of Smirnoff, and one 36 in. Hooka...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/refrigerator.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/thetoast.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/thegroupoutside.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/butterspizza.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/thegroupkitchen.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/thegroupattable.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/terrorist.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/rachelfyou.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/chris.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/mattthinking.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/jonandallie.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/hail.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/thedrinks.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109566939121915288?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109566939121915288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109566939121915288&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109566939121915288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109566939121915288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/weekend.html' title='The Weekend'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109540311696870609</id><published>2004-09-16T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-16T23:39:13.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life in College</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/IMAG0039.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109540311696870609?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109540311696870609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109540311696870609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109540311696870609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109540311696870609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/my-life-in-college.html' title='My life in College'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109540270556225318</id><published>2004-09-16T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-16T23:31:45.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chaos Theory</title><content type='html'>So in the past couple of days with my uber tight budget, I have allowed myself to purchase a couch ($12) and a &lt;a href="http://www.hookah-shisha.com/item.html?UCIDs=354899%7C1284754&amp;PRID=1437141"&gt;Hooka&lt;/a&gt; ($87). I really haven't been having a difficult time in college thus far. It seems I have this plethora of time left in my hands, and that I don't really know what to do with myself. I have painted, read, and studied just to pass the time until any of my friends get out of class.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend our 'gang' is going down to matt's cabin in prescott. Hopefully I will have an awesome time, but before that we are playing in a huge game of dodgeball, which I may have to miss out on the first few games because I need to take a quiz in math. After that we leave around 5:00 . I have safe guarded all of my cash , so now I won't spend any.&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been on a mad rush to find a job. I am running out of money so fast it makes my head spin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109540270556225318?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109540270556225318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109540270556225318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109540270556225318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109540270556225318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/chaos-theory.html' title='Chaos Theory'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109463181450630133</id><published>2004-09-08T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-16T23:21:44.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel infinite</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;the perks of being a wallflower&lt;/em&gt; is amazing. I have never read such am impactual book. It makes me feel complete, leaving a feeling of quite somber. I wish I could get everyone I know to read this, but my voice only reaches so far. I feel infinte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song: Asleep- The Smiths&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109463181450630133?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109463181450630133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109463181450630133&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109463181450630133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109463181450630133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-feel-infinite.html' title='I feel infinite'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109454323483713013</id><published>2004-09-07T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-07T00:47:14.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your success will astonish everyone.</title><content type='html'>So the question was asked if I wanted a girlfriend right now, and I realize that I do. Although am having a great time, there is a certain lonely part of me that just wants to be close to someone. But so far I haven't found a girl that seems like someone that could be a potential. We could spend a night, watch the earth come up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109454323483713013?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109454323483713013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109454323483713013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109454323483713013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109454323483713013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/your-success-will-astonish-everyone.html' title='Your success will astonish everyone.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109445635438949500</id><published>2004-09-06T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-06T00:39:14.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mail Mother Fucker.</title><content type='html'>College has changed me. I really could not tell you if it is for the better. I like the people that I have begun hanging around, its just that for some reason, I feel less grounded. I feel like I owe something to the people that I hang out with, just because they like me for who I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what change has fallen over me. I just feel so different. I feel like I can now live without disapointing anyone (Parents). I also don't understand that since being here, I have not fullfilled my promise of hanging out with anyone that went to thunderbird. I just havent felt the need to try and pretend to be someone I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Jon. I do drink, but I usually don't get beligerent. I smoke, but usually from the hookah, but an occasional cigarrette does have its perks. I found something that I like. I have friends. I have no job. I am taking 15 credit hours this semester. I don't know what is going to happen after college. I don't know what is going to happen in my life. I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109445635438949500?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109445635438949500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109445635438949500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109445635438949500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109445635438949500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/mail-mother-fucker.html' title='Mail Mother Fucker.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109437069552267071</id><published>2004-09-05T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-05T00:51:35.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ShiSha...</title><content type='html'>So I guess an update might be in order. This week was exhausting, not from the classes mind you, but from actually getting to class. I never realized how big NAU actually was. I got past my social insecurities pretty quickly. College is so much better than that of highschool. I have made soo many new friends. Yeah, there is some drama, mostly when kyle drinks, but hey, thats what happens when you have a group of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ball bearing to my piercing fell out, and now I am debating whether or not I should just take it out. It hurts when I try to sleep on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I almost went through an entire 30 pack in 2 nights... But hey this is college right?&lt;br /&gt;I am so fucking happy up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found out that Hookahs are way worse for you than ciggarettes, but hey, I guess I am begging to do both...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am coming back down next weekend, but for now adeau...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109437069552267071?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109437069552267071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109437069552267071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109437069552267071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109437069552267071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/09/shisha.html' title='ShiSha...'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109367900955249278</id><published>2004-08-28T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-28T00:43:29.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>unsober state pt. 2</title><content type='html'>So tonight was the second night of drunken debauchery. I made friends with Matt, who owns a hooka, and I have $20.00 left to spend on a more drunken state for saturday. College so far is full of booze, hookas , and pot. I have yet to smoke out, but I know that it is in my near future, since I found out that my roomate smokes out, as well as a couple of his buddies. Well, I am off to end this night as it should be ended, with water, to rehydrate oneself, and sleep, because it does a body good. Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109367900955249278?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109367900955249278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109367900955249278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109367900955249278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109367900955249278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/08/unsober-state-pt-2.html' title='unsober state pt. 2'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109359480795435246</id><published>2004-08-27T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-27T01:20:07.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>unsober state</title><content type='html'>So as of right now I speak to you in an unsober state. Tonight I officailly went to my first College party, only provided by a fraternity. it was decent, but they did run out of beer way too early. anyways we ended up coming back to the dorm with a bottle of smirnoff and some beer, after that I had a great time. Hopefully there is more times like these to come. Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109359480795435246?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109359480795435246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109359480795435246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109359480795435246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109359480795435246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/08/unsober-state.html' title='unsober state'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109342457239716360</id><published>2004-08-25T01:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T02:06:59.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alpha Beta Bite Me</title><content type='html'>So tonight was pretty good, I was able to unhinder myself and actually get out there and meet people. I think one of my main problems is that I am with Brittany a majority of the time. She is leaving tomorrow, so this may allow me to broaden my social surrondings. I think I just need a little time to just readjust.&lt;br /&gt;My roomate seems pretty cool, actually alot like me. he is basically into the same things I am. I may have found someone to boulder with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is pretty much the layout of my dorm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/IMAG0038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109342457239716360?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109342457239716360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109342457239716360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109342457239716360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109342457239716360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/08/alpha-beta-bite-me.html' title='Alpha Beta Bite Me'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109332678608385901</id><published>2004-08-23T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-23T22:53:06.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something...</title><content type='html'>So the past few days have been pretty busy, just getting the basics to begin college life can be somewhat of a hassle. My main problem so far has been boredom, for i have  only made a few friends, and as of right now, I wish I were a little more social. Wow , the main flaw behind alot of my emotional stupidity. I am way to cautious of how I act, and what people think. There is this monkey on my back, screaming at me, telling my inner self that I am acting like a fool. Wow highscholl feelings all over again, but I won't let that control me. I will find someway to just become more social. Maybe the main problem is that none of the actual social activities have begun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109332678608385901?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109332678608385901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109332678608385901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109332678608385901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109332678608385901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/08/something.html' title='Something...'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109316346454703777</id><published>2004-08-22T01:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-22T01:32:36.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New found freedom</title><content type='html'>So the first day was actually quite a good experience, although my room mate didn't show, I still managed to make friends with the people across the hall. Later on in the evening, I met up with Brittany and Callie, in which we went forth and bought shit for our dorms, and food. My parents took all of us out to eat at Monsoon's, and I have a almost for sure job at the rock gym on campus. Things are going great. My dorm set up is pretty much done, I will take a picture as soon as I get some batteries for my camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109316346454703777?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109316346454703777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109316346454703777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109316346454703777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109316346454703777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/08/new-found-freedom.html' title='New found freedom'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-109245647123226237</id><published>2004-08-13T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-14T12:12:24.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chewsaw</title><content type='html'>So this being my first official entry since I got back may make it a little long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you. I miss they time spent just talking. I miss our journal (there's not much puke on it) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College starts in about a week, no more anchor and chain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost got caught Thursday morning coming home late (around 4:15am to be exact) . I told my dad I was just getting some water because I was thirsty, of course one would be with cottonmouth (If you get my drift).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truthfully don't miss camp that much. I Do miss all of the people though, it feels so awkward being home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate how when I look around me I only see sky, no trees blocking the skyline. I hate how I can only see around 5 of the thousands that I can see in Prescott.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think on Sunday I will start looking for a mini fridge, along with a Microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got all 4 of my wisdom teeth pulled today, I was knocked out while they did so. Now the pain has subsided to a dull pulse and the taste of a dentist office is lingering within my mouth. But thanks to vicodin, I don't really feel to much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night is young, and I am beginning to feel old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-109245647123226237?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/109245647123226237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=109245647123226237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109245647123226237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/109245647123226237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/08/chewsaw.html' title='Chewsaw'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108883742387261305</id><published>2004-07-02T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-02T23:50:46.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forsaken skies.</title><content type='html'>So these past few weeks have contained more growth and let downs than I have had in a very long time. I decided that it was ridiculous to let Alisha keep messing with my head. I just needed to be away from here to get over her. So far it has worked. But I really couldn't understand how she chose someone that cheated on her and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altogether though, this summer has been far better than that of past ones. I just wish that I could write my entire journal here, and maybe someday I will, but for now, I am split between two versions, online and offline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College starts on august 22nd, which means I get a two week break between that and camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108883742387261305?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108883742387261305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108883742387261305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108883742387261305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108883742387261305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/07/forsaken-skies.html' title='Forsaken skies.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108647278118576051</id><published>2004-06-05T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-05T14:59:41.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sky-y</title><content type='html'>This past week has been good. It has has its ups and downs, as does every other week. I can already tell that the structure of camp is going to be much different than that of previous years. I am already tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I saw Harry potter 3. It was good, but it did miss a lot of important details that made the story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its good to know that most of you are having fun with your summer vacation. I wish I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please write, it will brighten my day more than you could imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drink one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108647278118576051?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108647278118576051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108647278118576051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108647278118576051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108647278118576051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/06/sky-y.html' title='Sky-y'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108589000526146827</id><published>2004-05-29T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T21:16:21.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parting is Such sweet sorrow.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow I am off to live in the woods for the rest of the summer. Yes, it is that time of year again. The #1 thing I would like to get out of this summer is this: Letters. I rarely get any, and when I do they are usually from my coworkers. If you would like to take part in this massive orgy of writting letters for Jon to read on those cold lonely nights, feel free to write to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camp Sky-Y &lt;br /&gt;Counselor Jon Youngberg AKA "Crash"&lt;br /&gt;5725 S. Senator Highway&lt;br /&gt;Prescott, AZ 86303&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, you know you want to...Even if I don't know you. It makes things more interesting that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108589000526146827?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108589000526146827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108589000526146827&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108589000526146827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108589000526146827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/parting-is-such-sweet-sorrow.html' title='Parting is Such sweet sorrow.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108585071816093943</id><published>2004-05-29T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T10:11:58.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>jpy3@dana.ucc. nau.edu</title><content type='html'>This is my last day in Phoenix for the next 2 monthes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108585071816093943?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108585071816093943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108585071816093943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108585071816093943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108585071816093943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/jpy3danaucc-nauedu.html' title='jpy3@dana.ucc. nau.edu'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108555390188226944</id><published>2004-05-25T23:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T23:45:01.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is no never ending banquet under the sun.</title><content type='html'>So I went and got myself graduated. No more pressures for a good three months! Grad night was good, I won $50 playing bingo, who would have guessed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now pretty tired. I only got around 2 hours of sleep this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108555390188226944?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108555390188226944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108555390188226944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108555390188226944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108555390188226944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/there-is-no-never-ending-banquet-under.html' title='There is no never ending banquet under the sun.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108534506139269018</id><published>2004-05-23T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T13:44:21.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I got laid. (Hawaiian necklace that is...)</title><content type='html'>So yesterday's reunion of camp counselor was uh... Lets just say it gets a little different when we all get together. Everyone joined in on the drunken debauchery except me, I couldn't drink, it made me want to gag.  Tracy got really lush and told everyone close by how much she loved them. I did get a nice buzz going on, and while so, everyone decided to skinny dip. I don't think I care to much for that amount of freedom. Poor Banana. This event pretty much ended the night. Afterwards, we all went inside and watched some special on VH1 about Madonna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am awaiting my mom's arrival to phoenix.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108534506139269018?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108534506139269018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108534506139269018&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108534506139269018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108534506139269018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-got-laid-hawaiian-necklace-that-is.html' title='I got laid. (Hawaiian necklace that is...)'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108495022095555136</id><published>2004-05-18T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-19T00:03:40.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abstract diffraction.</title><content type='html'>Well, today as I was finishing my last abstract art piece for the final, I cut off the tip of my fingerwith the paper cutter. For the rest of the day I had it bandaged up, making my index finger point as if saying "Here's lookin' at you kid". On a better note, Mrs. P really liked the art piece that I cut a chunk of my finger off for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonights staff movie brought closure for me of quitting AMC. It was fun while it lasted, but I knew it wasn't going to last forever. I found that I was not the only one with that thought. Shrek 2 was pretty funny. I laughed, and threw popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now only have 1 day left. I revised my Valedictory speech. It is basically the same, just with a few more lines. Thank you for the help Jodi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108495022095555136?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108495022095555136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108495022095555136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108495022095555136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108495022095555136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/abstract-diffraction.html' title='Abstract diffraction.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108486358219037437</id><published>2004-05-17T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-18T00:02:08.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yearbook.</title><content type='html'>Just in case I haven't gotten a chance to have you sign my yearbook, sign my guestbook instead, I will print it out and place it in my yearbook afterwards. Yes, this even means the people that I either don't really know, or are for some reason anonymous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freegb.net/gbook.cgi?60669"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sign my guestbook&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108486358219037437?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108486358219037437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108486358219037437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108486358219037437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108486358219037437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/yearbook.html' title='Yearbook.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108486232468578433</id><published>2004-05-17T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:41:54.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My days are numbered. 1. 2. 3.</title><content type='html'>I really think I am getting addicted to Coke, of the beverage sort of course. Or maybe just the caffeine inside of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was my last day working at AMC. It was kind of sad, and the only person that really cared was Reena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have only 3 more days, sometimes I wish I could just fast forward in life, just a few days, to get it over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the District Art Show today, it would have been really cool had my dad not been there. He doesn't understand that he can be extremely embarrassing , especially when he points to a picture and says, "their not that good, you can do better". I could see people staring. If only I could have gone with Amanda, it would have all been better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For English we had to write a valedictory speech, this is mine. Feel free to criticize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;High school conclusion.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High school has brought change to everyone. It has allowed most to mature to a point where they can define themselves, it has also set us up for the one of the most major events in our life, life itself. What better to prepare us for life than the last four years, and not even all lessons are learned in school. As Carol Burnett once said, “Only I can change my life. No one can do it for me.”&lt;br /&gt;High school has been something different for everyone, whether we were involved in academics, music, sports, clubs, working, or simply struggling to endure. It's been said an indefinite amount of times that high school is "the best four years of our lives", but that really isn't right. For some people, high school was a great experience; for others, it was somewhat miserable; but most of us fall somewhere in between. For all of us, though, the best years of our lives are yet to come, for now we finally have the ability to form what kind of life we would like to lead. Yet, it all falls into the memories you made throughout high school. Even the most subliminal memory has an impact on who you are now as well as who you are to become.&lt;br /&gt;Our parent's shoulders have become the resting place for the majority of our responsibilities over the past four years and yet the time is coming where we are to take on the burden in which we have given them, we now take on a  future full of bills, paperwork and a greater deal of responsibility . For some, wealth may never be an opportunity and for the rest, they may depend upon their decisions to create what they define as happiness. The latter will become some of the most successful.&lt;br /&gt;High school has helped to shape the people that we are to day and even the people that we will become in the oncoming future. It has prepared us for responsibilities of life. The end of high school is only the beginning of a mass of forked roads. Where they lead is your choice, because only you can choose your destination. This isn't good or bad. It's just the way of things. Nothing stays the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108486232468578433?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108486232468578433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108486232468578433&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108486232468578433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108486232468578433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/my-days-are-numbered-1-2-3.html' title='My days are numbered. 1. 2. 3.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108461103988457758</id><published>2004-05-15T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T01:50:39.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hornsby's.</title><content type='html'>So I hung out with Kelley. We ended up going to a party where I only knew like 4 people. As I was leaving I found out what I had wanted to. She had been avoiding my calls. But now she wants to hang out again. I know a big talk is coming along if she wants us to remain friends, even after I think of this friendship as damaged. I saw one of my old friends there, they were excited to see me as was I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This night has ended. &lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow brings camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108461103988457758?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108461103988457758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108461103988457758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108461103988457758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108461103988457758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/hornsbys.html' title='Hornsby&apos;s.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108442379680615647</id><published>2004-05-12T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T21:49:56.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chubs.</title><content type='html'>I am currently unhappy with my body and my weight I am at right now.I want to try and get down to 165lbs. I can't wait for camp because I will be away from all temptation.  That would be a nice attainable weight at which I would like to keep myself. If you don't want to hear it, don't read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to fucking study for government. FUCK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108442379680615647?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108442379680615647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108442379680615647&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108442379680615647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108442379680615647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/chubs.html' title='Chubs.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108432566453505787</id><published>2004-05-11T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T18:34:24.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Progressive.</title><content type='html'>I love how my father can make me feel like shit with only 4 words. He got the insurance bill for my car and started yelling at me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish school was done with. I have this biting hunch that he is going to yell at me again tonight for something that I have no control over. He also wants me to start looking for cheaper insurance. Add that to my list of already faltering to do's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing more to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108432566453505787?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108432566453505787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108432566453505787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108432566453505787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108432566453505787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/progressive.html' title='Progressive.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108409041197778813</id><published>2004-05-09T01:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T01:18:46.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drum.</title><content type='html'>I don't even know what to say. You called me out of the blue, after I had pretty much dismissed you as a friend. All I can say is that I didn't expect you to call, Kelley. Now you put me into the position of trying to patch a friendship that I thought had disintegrated. You want to hang out next weekend, but I don't know if I want to. I am at a loss of words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prom was mighty fun. We all ended up eating at Azario's , where we got our own room. It was quite nice night. It ended on a good note, except for the call. Now I don't know where my heads at anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I just give you the note that brought on such closure? Or should I just delete it and pretend that I never wrote it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put in my 2 weeks last Tuesday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck. Why couldn't you have just left it alone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108409041197778813?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108409041197778813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108409041197778813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108409041197778813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108409041197778813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/drum.html' title='Drum.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108382516198588450</id><published>2004-05-05T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T23:37:13.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Made.</title><content type='html'>Don't let people change you. Let experience change you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108382516198588450?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108382516198588450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108382516198588450&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108382516198588450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108382516198588450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/home-made.html' title='Home Made.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108380624956881808</id><published>2004-05-05T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T18:21:48.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing: The Big Picture.</title><content type='html'>The yearbook made me sad. Everything in there will be history. There will no longer be as tight of connections as there was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sat in my room, looking at page after page of buddy photo's it hit me. I missed the big picture, the whole point. I looked at everyone, with their best friend pictures dating back from elementary school and I realized that I envied that. I envied them having someone to just hang out with, I had no best friend to do that with. It was just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108380624956881808?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108380624956881808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108380624956881808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108380624956881808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108380624956881808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/missing-big-picture.html' title='Missing: The Big Picture.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108354562708480396</id><published>2004-05-02T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T17:58:01.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Astigmatism.</title><content type='html'>So I have 14 days of school left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home Friday at 9 because I didn't feel well. I fell asleep at 9:30. I then woke up at around 6:00 am, because I could no longer sleep. Went to the AP bio study session at 10. Went to the Optometrist to find out I have an astigmatism. I later went hung out with everyone at around 9. I left at one, before any events occured. Today I went to see Envy, I must warn you, it was Jack Black and Ben Stiller's worst movie. I finished my 6 Ap BIO essays around 4. I lost a lot of respect for some one for the prior nights happenings at around 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have lost so many friends for his stupid decision. I am glad you can't drive anymore. Sometimes his stupidity never falters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have not started on the comic dilly. I can draw a face, but not a body. I also have my Ap Bio final this week, along with the essay for government. Hopefully they will let up on the homework soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is pretty much all I am going to say. Vent if you want. I don't care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108354562708480396?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108354562708480396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108354562708480396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108354562708480396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108354562708480396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/05/astigmatism.html' title='Astigmatism.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108313215042414845</id><published>2004-04-27T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-27T23:07:29.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bankrupt.</title><content type='html'>So I found out that I have to pay for the stupid lost book before I can A) get my yearbook,and B) Graduate. This means I have to take like $50 out of my accout. I then need to spend another $50 on prom tickets. I have been very limited in my purchases lately, which in a way is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found two of my grades in a slump. In Bio, I have an 81.5% and in Government I have a 78.9%. I am not allowed to have any C's, or else there goes my newly found pride and joy. Yes, my jeep Jorge is a stud. I don't think I will name my Jeep, let alone name it Jorge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go in early for that last EOP, which kind of sucks, but at least I will do better in government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Only 16 days left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet another random quote from one of my favorite movies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Peter Gibbons: What would you do if you had a million dollars?&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: I'll tell you what I'd do, man, two chicks at the same time, man.&lt;br /&gt;Peter Gibbons: That's it? If you had a million dollars, you'd do two chicks at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: Damn straight. I always wanted to do that, man. And I think if I had a million dollars I could hook that up, cause chicks dig a dude with money.&lt;br /&gt;Peter Gibbons: Well, not all chicks.&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: Well the kind of chicks that'd double up on me do.&lt;br /&gt;Peter Gibbons: Good point.&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: What about you, what would you do?&lt;br /&gt;Peter Gibbons: Besides two chicks at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: Well yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Peter Gibbons: Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: Nothing, huh?&lt;br /&gt;Peter Gibbons: I'd relax, sit on my ass all day, I would do nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: Well you don't need a million dollars to do nothing, man. Just take a look at my cousin, he's broke, don't do shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108313215042414845?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108313215042414845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108313215042414845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108313215042414845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108313215042414845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/bankrupt.html' title='Bankrupt.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108284571217004899</id><published>2004-04-24T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-24T15:40:21.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dealership.</title><content type='html'>This morning I found my car sold within the first 6 hours of the newspapers publication. They paid for what we asked, $1,900 and went hunting for a Jeep Grand Cherokee. We found one within the hour, and at seven today I will have a jeep. The bad thing is that I have to pay for repairs and gas. Yes this means I take money for giving rides. So many good things happened lately that I wonder if it is finally my turn for good things to happen. &lt;br /&gt;I order a rental tux today. I also have a meazly $202 in my bank account. Hopefully prom wont hit me that hard, but if it does, that is alright, at least I had fun right? I get three more paychecks until I quit. Everyone that was AMC when I first started to work is leaving, including Tamar. But I also have to follow the same trend because of my camp job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a "Jump to Conclusions Mat"! You see, you have this mat, with different CONCLUSIONS written on it that you could JUMP TO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108284571217004899?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108284571217004899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108284571217004899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108284571217004899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108284571217004899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/dealership.html' title='Dealership.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108270291372034877</id><published>2004-04-22T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T23:52:35.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Analysis</title><content type='html'>In the personality test I found that I was most dominant in the Orange and Green catagories.These Catagories best describe my personality because they contain the characteristics that most match mine. The color orange is best described as adventurous. They are seen as impulsive. They prefer  “hands on” activities with quick solutions. The color green is described as curious. I found that the trait that I most relate to was far-thinking and inventive. Another trait I identified was that I always question the why’s of life. I found that out of these colors I was not gold or blue. The color gold is seen as traditional,orderly and great with fine details. I found that none of these actually exist in my personality, for I found that I like to break tradition, I am disorderly and usually have trouble with fine details. For the color blue, I found that I am competitive, and have trouble communticating with others, which is the exact opposite of blue, which is not competitive, and a strong communicator. I found my father’s personality to match with that of gold, being traditional, practicle and straight forward. I found my stepmother’s personality to match with that of blue, being a good listener, and compassionate towards others.&lt;br /&gt;I found my personality being dominated by introversion. I tent to keep most thoughts and feelings towards myself, being more dependent upon myself than others. I found that I can be extroversive at times, while around friends and family, but at most times lean to an introversive view. &lt;br /&gt;I found that my personality strengths consist of me being open-minded, realistic and impulsive. I find myself not liking to stay in the same place to long. I find that I take sides that are both equal and realistic when choosing arguments. I find that my weakness is opening up to people. I find that past relationships with people have scarred that part of me. I know longer have as much faith or trust in my existing relationships, for fear of setting myself up for disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;I find that my ego defenses consist of suppression and rationalization. I find that instead of acting out, I suppress feelings and emotions, pushing them to the back of my mind. I use rationalization, to create reasons for something happening, while they happen for another reason altogether.&lt;br /&gt;I was born as an only child, up until I was eight. My sister and I had a close relationship up until I moved to Arizona. After that, I rarely get to see her let alone talk to her. I now have a stepbrother of the same age, but our relationship is limited as I rarely see them also. I found that elementary school held its hardships, as I was consistently made fun of, but built up a shield to where I no longer noticed. I strived to better myself rather than get made fun of. My best experience as a child consist of summer camp. I felt so free, so active. This is one reason I am a camp counsler.&lt;br /&gt;I find that I relate to people that are caring and  compassionate, yet spontaneous. Creative yet realistic. I relate to people that are open minded most of all. I again find my weakness in relationships is my inability to open up to others. I hide as not to be criticized. I find my strength to be my ability to listen and not criticize. &lt;br /&gt;	I found my stress test results to be low level and relaxing. I find that I use humor to releive stress. I found that I never use close friendships or professional support. &lt;br /&gt;	My goals for the future are to go to college, and try to find a career that will work with art. I hope to be able to open up to more people, and to be able to have more patients towards others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108270291372034877?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108270291372034877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108270291372034877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108270291372034877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108270291372034877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/self-analysis.html' title='Self Analysis'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108252854482361819</id><published>2004-04-20T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T23:26:24.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finacial Aid.</title><content type='html'>There are so many things I wish that I could do right now, but I like the moolah. Its so frustrating. Everything that I am working for right now is going towards prom. I have no way of spending an extra cash. Oy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108252854482361819?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108252854482361819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108252854482361819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108252854482361819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108252854482361819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/finacial-aid.html' title='Finacial Aid.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108241358961369468</id><published>2004-04-19T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T15:37:52.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken wing Billiard.</title><content type='html'>This weekend was a change from my usual routine. Friday everyone met at my house, where they were sexually harassed by my dog Blue. I again went to king tuts, which I regret going to now. Saturday I met up with Amanda (Banana) and Tracy (Captain Tracy that is) where we then went forth to play pool. A nice drunk lady came up to us and asked about the night life, we told her where to go. She then started talking to us about some of the Omens that came when her sister died. Her sisters favorite song was called Dove or Broken wing or something, and the day that she died, a dove with a broken wing showed up in her back yard. She then told us about how her sister gave her a sign to say something at her funeral. I could tell how sad she was, and how bad she felt because she had been fighting with her sister. It was very interesting. We then realized that Matt, Tracy's boyfriend was playing pool with Tracy's old stalker. After which we proceeded far far away. Actually, we ended up going to Matt's apartment. People are funny when they are stoned and you aren't. After that, they went home. The night was still young for me so I uh did something else...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If I am ever drunk and ask for a cigarette, don't give me one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found out that my art piece is going to district. Yes. That means both sets of parents are going to see it in the art show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 more school days left. Joy. Rapture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108241358961369468?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108241358961369468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108241358961369468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108241358961369468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108241358961369468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/broken-wing-billiard.html' title='Broken wing Billiard.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108191781811332426</id><published>2004-04-13T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-13T21:49:17.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turtle.</title><content type='html'>Today I found myself at the Phoenix zoo. I found that each one of my relationships with everyone that was there has changed. Sadly , I no longer feel as close to some of them. I feel like an outsider with more and more of my friends. Things won't be the same between Christine and I. She's the one that changed it. Not I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I was sad this evening. The campfire at the zoo brought back memories. It also put certain things into perspective. I realized that the entire reason that I broke up with you was this. I felt you were to good for me. I felt you deserved someone better. Now that you found them. I miss you. But thats alright. Silence has a good way of keeping things hidden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also find that I don't want to forget anyone that I know. But they will all eventually fade, and that sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108191781811332426?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108191781811332426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108191781811332426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108191781811332426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108191781811332426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/turtle.html' title='Turtle.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108183765702176109</id><published>2004-04-12T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-12T23:31:25.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hack.\infecton</title><content type='html'>So today went by pretty quickly. I had a lead shift for main floor, mostly because all of the other leads requested today off to go to the baseball game. It wasn't too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think morgan pinned it on how I feel:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just don't want to call someone, and have them feel obligated to talk to me. But at the same time, it still just sucks, you know? I feel so out of the loop about everything. I'm rarely invited to do things with "the group" and even when I am, I still feel out of place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have to work luckily tomorrow, which means I can actually do my homework. Tonights hours are spent. I have to time to do anything except right a quick note at 11:23. How sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taught Whitney (the lead) how to do ABC problems in precal. I figured it out. It was good to know I was helpful at least in that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had to take down my art that was in the art show. I got to keep the ribbon though. Although it won't be mine for much longer as my mom wants to have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also can't find the cord for my digital camera, which means I have to buy another one for $10, over the internet, as that is the only place I can find them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108183765702176109?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108183765702176109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108183765702176109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108183765702176109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108183765702176109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/hackinfecton.html' title='Hack.\infecton'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108175327899264768</id><published>2004-04-12T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-12T00:06:32.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>King Tut.</title><content type='html'>So on Friday, I proceeded to do what I have basically done every friday, nothing. Saturday I worked from 12 to 2:30 because the had to many people.  I shouldn't have gone, but did go to a Hooka Lounge. It was quite cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I don't bother calling people is because I want to be INVITED, not just invite myself. I hate doing that. I want to have somebody want me to do stuff with them, rather then just tag along and have them wish that I wasn't there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend Broke something. It sucks but it was bound to happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like such an asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108175327899264768?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108175327899264768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108175327899264768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108175327899264768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108175327899264768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/king-tut.html' title='King Tut.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108140907263365168</id><published>2004-04-08T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T00:28:14.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English Paper on Marigolds.</title><content type='html'>I find myself more and more trying to desperately grasp on to the things that I know, when in fact, I am losing myself to everything happening around me. I find myself in these uncaring mood swings, where I just think:&lt;br /&gt;"I have the scholarship, why not just relax"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am constantly struggling to get the tiniest bit of motivation to do work, but I am almost out.&lt;br /&gt;Just one more month I tell myself. One more Month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought that those chosen words could have such a great impact on my inner psyche, but it does. It makes me want to hang out with each friend for one last time, because I know that most of the people I am comfortable with now will be gone, only to be replaced by future strangers. I will still know them, but the connection will not be as apparent as it had been before. I will find myself lost and confused throughout many times in my life. This seems to be one of those times. I have already mentally prepared myself. I know what is to come, and I think that I can deal with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes I wonder if I really can. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108140907263365168?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108140907263365168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108140907263365168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108140907263365168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108140907263365168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/english-paper-on-marigolds.html' title='English Paper on Marigolds.'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108123348504575138</id><published>2004-04-05T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-05T23:41:44.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arcane</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder if the people that I define my self with actually care. I realize alot of them do, but there are certain times when I feel as though I am disregarded .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of my friends have begun to float away from me and this troubles me. I reach for them, and yet they are already beyond my reach. I have let too much time pass. I wish only to formally say goodbye, because in all truth, I won't really see anyone I know right now in the near future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The happenings at the Art show reassured my fore-mentioned change in careers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week ended on a good note. This week I hope to be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108123348504575138?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108123348504575138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108123348504575138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108123348504575138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108123348504575138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/arcane.html' title='Arcane'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108102742855558759</id><published>2004-04-03T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-03T14:27:24.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today I found out that I got a scholorship to NAU, half a tuition waiver. Not bad , not bad at all&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I also got to talk to one of my closest friends last night. We talked for like 3 hours straight, and it didn't even seem like that long. I got everything out that I needed to. I felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had lost you as a friend this year, but we just put eachother on hold because of such a busy year. You did well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is about time I start getting ready for the tempe music festival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108102742855558759?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108102742855558759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108102742855558759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108102742855558759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108102742855558759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/today-i-found-out-that-i-got.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108088578863578395</id><published>2004-04-01T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-01T23:06:51.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Nothing.Everything.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today had to be one of the best school work days of my life. School was just simple and easy, no reason to feel down. Work was good, box I found to be easy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The storm was awesome. I got to watch it in its full glory, while in box. Something good has already come of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I found an IM from some chick known as Cutiebabe69 stating :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUTIEBABE69 (7:50:12 PM): CONGRATS JON!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auto response from Jon8504 (7:50:12 PM): Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUTIEBABE69 (7:50:36 PM): I know you're are work, but I just wanted to say congrats for getting BEST OF SHOW for the  Dane Cook pic!!!! YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things like this tend to make my days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108088578863578395?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108088578863578395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108088578863578395&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108088578863578395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108088578863578395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/04/nothing.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108063018094903272</id><published>2004-03-30T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T16:17:04.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Seems like an update is in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://img45.photobucket.com/albums/v139/Joejoebean/a3e56fde42f390d45ce816719f34b6a40_full.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I finished reading my journal, that my stepmom had stolen from my room  starting from like 8 years ago. I felt violated to find it in their room, most likely read. I realized how scared I was of my father when I was younger, and things that I knew that I really wished I hadn't.  I wrote of how he cheated on my real mother with my stepmom, before actually divorcing her. I wrote about how I used to get scared everytime the lawn mower ran, because it was my job to pick up rocks in the yard, and everytime that I missed one, I got it thrown at me. I also read of how he used to hit me. I remembered certain happenings in elemetary school, and I remember my first girlfriend, not really a girlfriend so to speak, but the title was still there. I remembered all the good times, Kelley included unfortunatly. I also remember being so excited to talk to my mom. I had a count down till when I got to see her next.&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;10-6-98.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Journal, &lt;br /&gt;Doomsday has arrived again . last time I got bad grades, but this time I got 2 D's and 1 F+. Ms. Andersen said she would call but I hope she doesn't, it is a 50/50 chance. I am doing good in everything else, I just need to use my eagle bucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, here are my grades"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lang A&lt;br /&gt;Math B+&lt;br /&gt;P.E. A&lt;br /&gt;S.S. B&lt;br /&gt;Sci A&lt;br /&gt;Lit A&lt;br /&gt;lm(?) A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poem&lt;br /&gt;As death creeps upon me I wait. &lt;br /&gt;I wait until I die. It will come soon and&lt;br /&gt;it will leap on me like a cheetah.&lt;br /&gt;Fast and unpainful.&lt;br /&gt;Life is the other way around, painful and slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seemed Like such a happy little kid didn't I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108063018094903272?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108063018094903272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108063018094903272&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108063018094903272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108063018094903272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/03/seems-like-update-is-in-order.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108019638673641102</id><published>2004-03-24T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-03-24T23:36:30.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I Changed my mind. I no longer want to do psychology. I have fallen head first into a world of art. &lt;a href="http://www.digitalart.org"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; site made me want to practice art more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;a href="http://www.zewall.com"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; site  is just plain cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108019638673641102?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108019638673641102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108019638673641102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108019638673641102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108019638673641102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/03/i-changed-my-mind.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108017087089233848</id><published>2004-03-24T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-03-24T21:25:00.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I didn't want it to be anyone but you, but it wasnt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My car overheated again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also finished my picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.cox.net/jon8504/Untitled-1 copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://members.cox.net/jon8504/dane1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108017087089233848?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108017087089233848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108017087089233848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108017087089233848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108017087089233848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/03/i-didnt-want-it-to-be-anyone-but-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108010597372530223</id><published>2004-03-23T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-03-23T23:22:10.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So today, after school I joined Jodi, Isaac, Dee and Lyndsee. We ended up going to GameStop, where I remembered the Game Boy Advance game in my car that I found in a theater, and sold it to them, making a whooping $7.20.We then went to see Dawn of the Dead. It was pretty gory. It also made me squirm. After that I went and found a schedule. I am finally getting trained in box on Thursday. I am moving on up in the Movie business. Too bad I have to quit in two monthes. Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad also found a buyer for my car. I now just need to clean it . He also found a Jeep. Only problem is that it is stick. I guess I will learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!&lt;br /&gt;The world forgetting, by the world forgot.&lt;br /&gt;Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!&lt;br /&gt;Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;&lt;br /&gt;Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;&lt;br /&gt;"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"&lt;br /&gt;Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,&lt;br /&gt;Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.&lt;br /&gt;Grace shines around her with serenest beams,&lt;br /&gt;And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.&lt;br /&gt;For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,&lt;br /&gt;And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,&lt;br /&gt;For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,&lt;br /&gt;For her white virgins hymeneals sing,&lt;br /&gt;To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,&lt;br /&gt;And melts in visions of eternal day. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108010597372530223?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108010597372530223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108010597372530223&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108010597372530223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108010597372530223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/03/so-today-after-school-i-joined-jodi.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108009834646802662</id><published>2004-03-23T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-03-23T20:24:30.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fortune Cookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself going to Panda Express alot more lately. Their food is good, and I also enjoy the convienience of having one right next to my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past two fortune cookies have been dead on with their fortune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A Letter of great importance may reach you any day now.&lt;br /&gt;This could be concerning Tracy's Email. Yes, I got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. There is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead for you.&lt;br /&gt;This could be concerning Reena's invitation to go to the Tempe Music Festival on 4-3-04&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108009834646802662?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108009834646802662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108009834646802662&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108009834646802662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108009834646802662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/03/fortune-cookie.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042000.post-108001064015781344</id><published>2004-03-22T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-03-22T20:00:41.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Eternal happiness of the spotless mind.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no intention of going to Track today. I think I might quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It amazes me at how well my parents don't know me. They were talking about the peer pressures of college (ie. Drinking) and they were like " I dont think that you would ever do that..." and I just wanted to scream I HAVE , I HAVE DRANK BEFORE, I HAVE BEEN DRUNK MANY TIMES! I AM NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM!. but instead I sat quietly agreeing with everything they said. To them I seem so perfect, the kid that doesnt do drugs or drink. I could only imagine if they knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking about putting up my old stereo and computer up on EBay. I am not sure yet. There are a couple of things wrong with the computer, the cdrom doesnt work, and a USB port is busted. My old stereo also doesnt play cd's but everything else works. They could both be taken in for repairs or I could fix them if I really wanted to. I dont know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5042000-108001064015781344?l=joejoebean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/feeds/108001064015781344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5042000&amp;postID=108001064015781344&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108001064015781344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5042000/posts/default/108001064015781344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joejoebean.blogspot.com/2004/03/eternal-happiness-of-spotless-mind.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05165072884982871575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
