<?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-5404632259751211795</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:21:20.814-07:00</updated><category term='chewing on thoughts'/><category term='new blog'/><category term='posting'/><category term='writing'/><title type='text'>...or what's a heaven for</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5404632259751211795.post-8536901750121196278</id><published>2008-05-12T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:20:59.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CSE: Chapter 2: August 1.1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;AUGUST&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Several towns and cities passed but I didn't see any signs of recent human life. Jack and Patch did whuffle at something a few times, but I decided it must be nothing because nothing was heard, and they gave no signs of fear.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I lived out of grocery stores and libraries after the cans ran out.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Most of the time I had to break the windows to get in, though the automatic doors still worked far awhile in the larger cities.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The days flew by and I lived each of them as they came with a sense of unreality.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Food for the horses wasn't as hard to find as I’d imagined.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hay and grain can be found on the edges of any farming community.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They weren’t really working that hard, carrying one young girl and a few quickly dwindling supplies. Grass was their main diet, and that could be found anywhere.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;The grass, in fact, &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; everywhere, waist high.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While I wasn't paying attention, the plant life had gone out of control. By the beginning of August, it looked like the buildings had been abandoned for years rather than a couple months. I hadn't noticed how quickly the plants had been growing, just that they were.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mostly I guessed it was because I had been wrapped up in my own misery, but the growth must have been plainly visible for a while.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Vines now covered most cars; some smaller buildings had an almost complete covering of them. Saplings grew out of the sidewalk. The roads were cracked in places from the sheer force of weeds and trees trying to get through, wherever there was the smallest space.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Animals too seemed in an overabundance; rabbits, birds, and other small furry creatures ran across my path almost constantly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’d never thought about how many wild animals were in one place before, and now they were everywhere.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5404632259751211795-8536901750121196278?l=azureavian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/8536901750121196278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5404632259751211795&amp;postID=8536901750121196278' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/8536901750121196278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/8536901750121196278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/2008/05/chapter-2-august-11.html' title='CSE: Chapter 2: August 1.1'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5404632259751211795.post-8792500140364046328</id><published>2008-04-16T20:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:21:45.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CSE: Chapter 1: June - 1.3</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;There are few really good horses at a rental barn but I chose the one I rode every time I came.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He wasn’t one that would insist on keeping to the worn trails and he was gentle enough for me to deal with, though heaven help me if he got it into his head to be difficult.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His name was Jack, short for Jackass.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The owner joked that he had donkey somewhere in his ancestry; he was so ugly, I wondered if perhaps that was the glorious part of his gene pool.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was ugly, with a large forehead and big teeth, and he was colored like an Australian sheepdog – lots of grey with black spots.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, he was smarter than most dogs I’d heard of and he could eat a lot of what other horses could not.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I took one other horse, a paint, as a substitute for Jack when he got tired and as a pack horse. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I let the rest go. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I debated taking a small, single horse wagon, but didn't take it. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I didn't really want to carry too much and definitely not more than could be carried on one pack horse and I didn’t really know how to hook the horse to it. First, there was a problem I had not foreseen. A stable hand had always put the saddle on for me and not often in my sight. I knew the theory but I didn’t actually know how to do it myself. I had been meaning to learn, because what good horsewoman didn’t know how to put on her own saddle, but I thought I had plenty of time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now, for sure I did, all the time in the world.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;~~~&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The second day out, I started having stomach pains.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Relief spiked thru the panic of the thought I might be dying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then my stomach growled and the relief faded, the guilt I felt for living returned. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was just hungry and I decided also in that moment that I might as well live, just in case this whole thing ended up making some sort of sense. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I made camp and opened a can. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I did have a brief thought that maybe I could starve myself, but it passed quickly.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know just when I broke from the stupor; one morning I woke up one and realized that I really was glad to be alive, even if I was the only one left. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I still felt guilty, but at least I wasn't waiting to die.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5404632259751211795-8792500140364046328?l=azureavian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/8792500140364046328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5404632259751211795&amp;postID=8792500140364046328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/8792500140364046328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/8792500140364046328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/2008/04/chapter-1-june-13.html' title='CSE: Chapter 1: June - 1.3'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5404632259751211795.post-5835890051584873359</id><published>2008-04-14T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:22:14.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CSE: Chapter 1: June - 1.2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;It was hours later when I went to my room and remembered to put on clothes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I found my backpack, thinking briefly of missing graduation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I thought I was too dried out to cry anymore, but I was wrong. I cried all the while I packed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I packed all the camping gear we never used. I discarded all but the most necessary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was just the beginning of summer, and in went my sister's most lightweight shirts and socks; that gave me my first smile. I went to the kitchen and packed a canvas shopping bag with canned food and a can opener, then made for the horse stable at the end of town.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;~~~&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I was introduced to horses at an early age, by one of my sister's many boyfriends.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He thought he would get in good by being nice to the little sister.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He soon found out that we cared little for each other, but it was too late; I was hooked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Horses are expensive, whether you own them or just ride them. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I never could get up enough money of my own to ride more than a few times a year, but the thought of finding a good horse and riding away came naturally, even if it felt like I should stay. Self preservation is very strong when you are a young, healthy girl and strongly self-sufficient.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;It took me three hours to get to the riding stables, taking the short cut down the levee.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was only two miles, but how could I resist stopping at the houses of friends I’d known?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And why didn't I leave right away when I saw that no one was there?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I fought myself all the way to the stables; how could I leave this place I’d known all my life?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What if people returned; how could I leave?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They might not be able to find me. But on the other hand, what if my town was the only one affected. What if there was a sudden illness and everyone but me was evacuated. I knew these thoughts were foolish, but they swarmed around my head.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Foolish or not, I didn’t know what was going to happen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only thing I could do was the best I could think of, and the thought that I &lt;b style=""&gt;had&lt;/b&gt; to leave became stronger and stronger. I continued to look through the mounts for one I could handle by myself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5404632259751211795-5835890051584873359?l=azureavian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/5835890051584873359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5404632259751211795&amp;postID=5835890051584873359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/5835890051584873359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/5835890051584873359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/2008/04/chapter-1-june-12.html' title='CSE: Chapter 1: June - 1.2'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5404632259751211795.post-2368516646635100825</id><published>2008-04-13T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:20:43.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CSE: Chapter 1: June - 1.1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;IT WAS A FRIDAY WHEN THE WORLD ENDED.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I woke up one morning to an empty house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was no strange thing in itself, my parents traveled a lot, and they were apt to leave with no warning, just a note to my sister and myself to tell us when they left and when they expected to be back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Debbie was 16 and thought this was a piece of teenage heaven, since it meant she could stay out until she felt like coming back, usually not until the folks came back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I learned young how to take care of myself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I didn’t know what woke me up that first morning, maybe the air smelled strange, maybe just a sudden chill of fear.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I walked out to the street, there were no kids playing, no cars, no mowers going, not even the birds were making any noise.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I stood, staring down the street in bewilderment. There was an unnatural silence everywhere.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I tried the phone first, but no one answered, not anywhere.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I went from door to door; no one was home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a long time before I gave up and went home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was no note, no sign that three other people lived there, any more than there was a sign of anyone else in town.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were still all the houses, all the material objects, there were even a couple cars in the middle of the road, but no people and no bodies.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I sat on the couch as the sun set and stared mindlessly into the distance.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The thought that I should leave swirled around in my head, I had to find someone to tell me that I wasn't crazy, that there really were people who used to be there. I decided I would go, and then did nothing. I stared at the floor, all by myself, and wondered.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I curled in a ball on the floor and cried til I had no tears.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5404632259751211795-2368516646635100825?l=azureavian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/2368516646635100825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5404632259751211795&amp;postID=2368516646635100825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/2368516646635100825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/2368516646635100825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/2008/04/chapter-1-june-11.html' title='CSE: Chapter 1: June - 1.1'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5404632259751211795.post-6619280507042998140</id><published>2008-04-12T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:20:17.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CSE: INTRODUCTION**</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“We shall all be changed at the sounding of the last trumpet”—Messiah&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The world ended, not with a bang or a whimper, but a bell.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I woke up that morning and suddenly I was alone.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Only a few thousand people survived; not randomly, there were whole towns in some remote places.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The rest just disappeared.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We thought it was the end; it was just the beginning.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;All I know is what happened to me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: right;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Next&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5404632259751211795-6619280507042998140?l=azureavian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/6619280507042998140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5404632259751211795&amp;postID=6619280507042998140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/6619280507042998140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/6619280507042998140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/2008/04/introduction.html' title='CSE: INTRODUCTION**'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5404632259751211795.post-5915975352628565565</id><published>2008-03-31T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T20:52:02.548-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='posting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chewing on thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>my first post (but hardly a virgin)</title><content type='html'>this is my first post here in my G acct. my main acct is over at LiveJournal, but i'm looking around for somewhere to put my novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been chewing on a thought lately. i have been reading a few web-published novels lately and been thinking about my novel. it's not finished and i've been writing on it since 1988. i don't know that i ever will finish it, but i'd like to have it somewhere that other people can read it. however, i want it separated from my what-the-fuck-ever posting. so...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5404632259751211795-5915975352628565565?l=azureavian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/feeds/5915975352628565565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5404632259751211795&amp;postID=5915975352628565565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/5915975352628565565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5404632259751211795/posts/default/5915975352628565565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azureavian.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-first-post-but-hardly-virgin.html' title='my first post (but hardly a virgin)'/><author><name>azureavian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13841890255036806027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7gGK4r6S-0w/R7kEgFeORdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jYuflzjByQo/S220/080707girl_002b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
