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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav</id>
  <title>Something Along These Lines...</title>
  <subtitle>Laura</subtitle>
  <author>
    <email>lauraval@gmail.com</email>
    <name>Laura</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2007-10-27T10:25:34Z</updated>
  <lj:journal username="laurav" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:24041</id>
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    <title>laurav @ 2007-10-26T23:22:00</title>
    <published>2007-10-26T22:23:08Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-27T10:25:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Anger is surging through me, I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;I've been treated like a child, a child who can't think for herself.&lt;br /&gt;Your concerns pound through my head, like a drum.&lt;br /&gt;Every beat crashes, intensifying these feelings of frustration that I have in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;The beat increases, it's now pulsing through my veins, &lt;br /&gt;And I want to cry out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hypocritical words unravel from your mouth, &lt;br /&gt;Gnarling...&lt;br /&gt;Straight from the tongue that entwines itself with mine.&lt;br /&gt;Like a green snake of jealousy, it hisses, &lt;br /&gt;And taunts my ears with its tainted words.&lt;br /&gt;And annoyance grinds my teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite this, I still hold you high above all others.&lt;br /&gt;And it pains me to feel this way, &lt;br /&gt;Pain, like a spear straight through the heart, &lt;br /&gt;Because I do care.&lt;br /&gt;And it cuts so deeply that it hurts whenever you have to leave me.&lt;br /&gt;Just sitting there, &lt;br /&gt;Left to try and make sense of what just happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we got our act together &lt;br /&gt;The drumming and grinding would cease... &lt;br /&gt;And the snake would be shot.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:22999</id>
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    <title>laurav @ 2007-03-16T19:55:00</title>
    <published>2007-03-16T20:06:49Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-16T20:06:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm upset because I had another practice driving test and I completely messed up again. Normally, I have no problems with my driving, and I was alright driving to the test route that the examiner will take me though in my real test, but once I'm in that test situation my nerves take over - my mind goes blank and I make stupid errors... It's like all my knowledge of driving flies out of the electric window. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really fed up about it, I know there are people who care about me and have full confidence in my abilities, but my nerves just seem to conquer all - for example, when I was asked to perform the 'parallel park' manuvoer, my mind became muddled and it's like twenty different things were shooting through my mind all at once, stopping me from focusing on what I was asked to do, and leaving me confused and disappointed with myself. &lt;i&gt;"Now do I turn the wheel clockwise or anti-clockwise, in order to reverse into the left? What if I hit the curb? Have I checked to make sure the road is clear enough times? Oh! What if I get this wrong?"&lt;/i&gt; -- And at that point it usually &lt;u&gt;does&lt;/u&gt; go wrong. I could do the 'parallel park', under normal conditions, perfectly, then be asked to do it in a practice test 5 minutes later and mess up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My instructor knows I'm capable, but during the tests, he has to get into the role of the big scary examiner and isn't allowed to chat to me or help out if I get stuck (unless I put myself in danger, of course), something I'm not used to, since I feel there's a great rapport going on between us. It's like for that 45 minutes he undergoes a complete transformation - he becomes a stony, serious stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also can't get over how much I swore during the test, in front of him. It seems that when I'm frustrated and things are going wrong, my mouth runs wild like a potty-mouthed fish wife. I apologised and he said &lt;i&gt;"Don't be daft, I'd rather you let it all out!".&lt;/i&gt; I noticed he was grinning actually, maybe I don't really have the voice for swearing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the test was over and he'd asked me to park up, he said &lt;i&gt;"It's nerves isn't it... I could tell just by watching you drive."&lt;/i&gt; At least he understands, that's the one good thing.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:22774</id>
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    <title>A-Z of Laura</title>
    <published>2007-03-12T23:08:07Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-13T00:25:16Z</updated>
    <content type="html">A: Alan Rickman fan. &lt;br /&gt;B: 'Beauty and the Beast'. My favourite piece to play on the piano. &lt;br /&gt;C: Confidence. Something I need more of. &lt;br /&gt;D: Daft. I'm a bit stupid at times. &lt;br /&gt;E: Emetophobic and excitable - I get over-excited about anything I love, and can get stupid. &lt;br /&gt;F: Fantasist. &lt;br /&gt;G: 'Gone With The Wind'. My favourite film of all time. &lt;br /&gt;H: Horse Riding. Giddy yup! &lt;br /&gt;I: iPod. Couldn't function without mine. &lt;br /&gt;J: Job. I need one where I'm paid. &lt;br /&gt;K: Kisses.  &lt;br /&gt;L: 'Lozzles' and 'Lozenge'. Nicknames I put up with. Begrudgingly.  &lt;br /&gt;M: Music. I can't get through the day without music. I need it in the background to do my normal stuff, and I love to sing along when I can. &lt;br /&gt;N: Nineteen years young. Well, soon! &lt;br /&gt;O: Obsessed. With lots of stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;P: PIANO. &lt;br /&gt;Q: Quiet. &lt;br /&gt;R: Rocky Horror Show and romance. Something I think there's not enough of sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;S: Self belief. I need more of it. &lt;br /&gt;T: Tea addict and tortoise. I want one, I'd call him Richard. &lt;br /&gt;U: University of Chichester. &lt;br /&gt;V: Vegetarian. &lt;br /&gt;W: Wish. I wish for a lot of things. &lt;br /&gt;X: Xylophone??? &lt;br /&gt;Y: Yawn... I'm permanently tired nowadays.  &lt;br /&gt;Z: Zzzzzz. I like my sleep.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:22389</id>
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    <title>Difficulties in Practicing - Because People Complain.</title>
    <published>2007-03-06T13:54:33Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-06T14:01:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Haha, hello LJ. I only ever seem to update when I'm annoyed at something. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My piano was put in the lounge where the TV is, and I knew from the beginning that it would cause riffs in our "family relationship", and I was right, it has. It's come to the point where I have to negotiate when I can and cannot practice, and even then I have to use the practice pedal, and &lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;even then&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt; I still get Mum tutting or saying, "Play that other piece I like!" which isn't helpful when I'm trying to learn a new piece. :/ I asked for the piano to be moved to my bedroom but that request was not granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Mum, I know when I'm learning a new piece it sounds pretty awful at first, but how can I improve when my practice time is restricted? And when I do play something and it sounds good ("Beauty and the Beast", for example) you don't complain then, do you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a real tricky situation because when I do get a real "urge" to play and feel like giving it my all, more often than not I'm not allowed to play. My piano teacher says I'll just to be a martyr, and too right, that's exactly what I am - it's just not convenient. :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I adore my acoustic upright piano, it's times like these where I really miss my old digital piano - it had headphones, volume control - so nobody was disturbed or complained - I could play until the cows came home. I wanted the real thing though, because it would, and has, helped improve my technique, my appreciation for music and of course, it sounds &lt;b&gt;grrreat&lt;/b&gt;!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant over. :)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:22064</id>
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    <title>laurav @ 2006-12-22T12:28:00</title>
    <published>2006-12-22T12:28:15Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-22T14:58:40Z</updated>
    <content type="html">At 3 am last night, when I couldn't sleep, I thought to myself "Well, I'm losing sleep now, but no worries because I have nothing planned for tomorrow and I can have a long lie in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 9 am I got woken up abruptly by the telephone. Mum answered it and as soon as I heard her say, "Oh, hello Valerie." I knew why she was phoning and all that was going through my head was "Shit. Shit. Shit." Valerie is the assistant manageress at the Scope charity shop, where I volunteer, and she was ringing to enquire if I was available to work at the shop today - 12 til 4 - because John, another volunteer, was supposed to be in today, but his Mum rang to say he's got a stomach bug. o.O&lt;br /&gt;I'm not normally a bad tempered person, but when Mum came into my room to tell me, I was really cranky. Things weren't going as I'd planned - I wasn't getting the long lie in I desperately needed, and now I was being called upon to come into the shop at the last minute. &lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't normally mind when this happens, but the thing is, when I was working there on Wednesday, Valerie had asked me whether I would mind working on Saturday because John wanted the day off. I said okay, that's fine, I'll do Saturday, no problem. Then she had asked me about working Friday (today) and I had made a point of asking if I could keep Friday free, since I have worked Monday, Wednesday, and now I'll be working Saturday too. Honesty is the best policy, right? Valerie said she understood and said that that was fine, and that I do enough for the shop anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I layed there and battled with my conscience for a bit, but in the end I rang her back and told her that I couldn't work today, that one of my friends has just come back home from university and I had arranged to see her, since I hadn't seen her since October. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know I lied, but to be honest, I'm too tired to care and I don't feel I can go back to bed because now I've been up and about for too long. :(</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:21982</id>
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    <title>laurav @ 2006-12-11T23:46:00</title>
    <published>2006-12-11T23:46:00Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-13T22:27:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Dear readers of my LiveJournal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something tragic happened yesterday... My faithful laptop, of three years, decided to die - hard drive completely knackered. It was fine on Friday, but on Saturday evening it started making this horrible grinding noise - reminiscent of a revving motorbike. Then yesterday it gave up the ghost completely = one Internetless, devastated Laura.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, Dad put the Internet on his very old Windows 98, which is why I'm sitting here now, typing to you, though I don't know whether it is good luck - to put it mildly, this computer is no spring chicken - Pentium III, 450 Mhz. It certainly wouldn't be able to run the London Marathon, it would collapse and have a heart attack after the first 100 yards, put it that way. It is the old age pensioner of computers. And boy, do I know about it! It took me five minutes just to load something up in Microsoft Word! It also has an annoying, neurotic habit of flashing several bright colours in quick succession - &lt;font color="#00FFFF"&gt;Turquoise&lt;/font&gt;, &lt;font color="#FFFF00"&gt;Yellow&lt;/font&gt;, &lt;font color="#FF3300"&gt;Red&lt;/font&gt; - because the monitor lead is a bit fecked and tetchy.&lt;br /&gt;So not only is this computer so slow that it's bringing on my premature death, (cause of death: frustration and boredom) it's also trying to blind me as well.&lt;br /&gt;But now the good news...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the 21st of December I'll be the owner of a brand new Dell Inspiron 9400 laptop! :D I can't be bothered to type out &lt;u&gt;all&lt;/u&gt; its specs and accessories but it:&lt;br /&gt;* Has a Intel Dual Core 2 Processor - 1.83 Ghz&lt;br /&gt;* 667 Mhz&lt;br /&gt;* It has a 120 GB hard drive&lt;br /&gt;* It has 1024 MB memory&lt;br /&gt;* It has a DVD Re-Writer&lt;br /&gt;* It is the Windows XP Media Center 2005 edition&lt;br /&gt;* It has a 17" widescreen - LCD Ultrasharp display&lt;br /&gt;* A 256 MB ATI Mobility RADEON X1400 HyperMemory graphics card&lt;br /&gt;* Internal wireless Internet&lt;br /&gt;And other things like Microsoft Works 8.5, McAfee security center, Adobe Reader 7.0.8...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a bad deal for £774.00 - I mean, it'll suit my purpose perfectly. I'm not an avid PC gamer, after all.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:21602</id>
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    <title>A Favourite Part</title>
    <published>2006-12-10T15:58:42Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-10T15:58:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I was greeted with my GWTW novel when I came from work yesterday (hip hip hooray! :D) and before I started reading it properly, I skimmed through the pages and found one of my favourite scenes, from the film and now, the book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;i&gt;It was a silent meal and Scarlett's temper was straining because it&lt;br /&gt;was her last supper in New Orleans and she wanted to do justice to&lt;br /&gt;the crawfish. And she could not enjoy it under his gaze.&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless she ate a large one, and drank a quantity of&lt;br /&gt;champagne. Perhaps it was this combination that brought back her&lt;br /&gt;old nightmare that evening, for she awoke, cold with sweat, sobbing&lt;br /&gt;brokenly. She was back at Tara again and Tara was desolate.&lt;br /&gt;Mother was dead and with her all the strength and wisdom of the&lt;br /&gt;world. Nowhere in the world was there anyone to turn to, anyone to&lt;br /&gt;rely upon. And something terrifying was pursuing her and she was&lt;br /&gt;running, running till her heart was bursting, running in a thick&lt;br /&gt;swimming fog, crying out, blindly seeking that nameless, unknown&lt;br /&gt;haven of safety that was somewhere in the mist about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhett was leaning over her when she woke, and without a word he&lt;br /&gt;picked her up in his arms like a child and held her close, his hard&lt;br /&gt;muscles comforting, his wordless murmuring soothing, until her&lt;br /&gt;sobbing ceased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Rhett. I was so cold and so hungry and so tired and I&lt;br /&gt;couldn't find it. I ran through the mist and I ran but I couldn't&lt;br /&gt;find it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Find what, honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. I wish I did know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is it your old dream?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gently placed her on the bed, fumbled in the darkness and lit a&lt;br /&gt;candle. In the light his face with bloodshot eyes and harsh lines&lt;br /&gt;was as unreadable as stone. His shirt, opened to the waist, showed&lt;br /&gt;a brown chest covered with thick black hair. Scarlett, still&lt;br /&gt;shaking with fright, thought how strong and unyielding that chest&lt;br /&gt;was, and she whispered: "Hold me, Rhett."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Darling!" he said swiftly, and picking her up he sat down in a&lt;br /&gt;large chair, cradling her body against him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Rhett, it's awful to be hungry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It must be awful to dream of starvation after a seven-course&lt;br /&gt;dinner including that enormous crawfish." He smiled but his eyes&lt;br /&gt;were kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Rhett, I just run and run and hunt and I can't ever find what&lt;br /&gt;it is I'm hunting for. It's always hidden in the mist. I know if&lt;br /&gt;I could find it, I'd be safe forever and ever and never be cold or&lt;br /&gt;hungry again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is it a person or a thing you're hunting?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. I never thought about it. Rhett, do you think I'll&lt;br /&gt;ever dream that I get there to safety?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," he said, smoothing her tumbled hair, "I don't. Dreams aren't&lt;br /&gt;like that. But I do think that if you get used to being safe and&lt;br /&gt;warm and well fed in your everyday life, you'll stop dreaming that&lt;br /&gt;dream. And, Scarlett, I'm going to see that you are safe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rhett, you are so nice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks for the crumbs from your table, Mrs. Dives. Scarlett, I&lt;br /&gt;want you to say to yourself every morning when you wake up: 'I&lt;br /&gt;can't ever be hungry again and nothing can ever touch me so long as&lt;br /&gt;Rhett is here and the United States government holds out.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The United States government?" she questioned, sitting up,&lt;br /&gt;startled, tears still on her cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The ex-Confederate money has now become an honest woman. I&lt;br /&gt;invested most of it in government bonds."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just reading that fills me up with warmth - mainly because of the words used to describe Rhett:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;i&gt;Without a word he picked her up in his arms like a child and held her close, his hard&lt;br /&gt;muscles comforting, his wordless murmuring soothing...&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I've read upto to the end of chapter one, and I'm loving every line of it so far. There's so much imagery packed into one page, and it really "colours" the film for me - you know when you watch a film, all the imagery is already given to you on screen? Well, reading the book makes me think up my own imagery - the settings, what the characters look and sound like (with the exception of Scarlett and Rhett - they're still Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable) and I love that.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:21423</id>
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    <title>Grr, customers!</title>
    <published>2006-12-09T13:12:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-09T13:21:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I've just come back from work (Scope charity shop) and I feel so infuriated! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer #1 (a foreigner, incidentally): He asked me how much this Ricky Martin DVD cost, so I went and asked my manager, Carol, and she said it was £3.00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer #1 - &lt;i&gt;"Three pounds? But it's the concert one..."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - &lt;i&gt;"Well, it's three pounds."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he puts it back. Fine, no problem, it's no skin off my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 30 minutes later another customer came into the shop, also a foreigner, but this time it was a woman interested in a set of BRAND NEW wooden kitchen utensils. It was her that REALLY made my blood boil - she asked how much the utensils were and I asked Carol again and she said they were £3.00. I told the customer that the utensils were £3.00 and this was her response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer #2 - &lt;i&gt;"Stupid price for a charity shop!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I just felt like screaming "PISS OFF THEN!", but I just smiled at her and she went away. &lt;br /&gt;It just makes me so angry. Yeah we are a charity shop, but trying to get a lower price, or complaining about a price, in a charity shop is a really shitty thing to do. &lt;br /&gt;Actually, Ma'am, we do have a good cause to raise money for - people with Cerebral Palsy - and by complaining about £3.00 for a brand new set of kitchen utensils, (which is a more than a fair price, if you ask me) you're basically undermining everything we're trying to work towards. I don't know how charity shops work in Bombay, or wherever you're from, but we have morals here. &lt;br /&gt;I mean, if you don't like the price, don't buy it - but DON'T bitch about the price right in the middle of the shop, especially in front of me, (I have Cerebral Palsy).</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:20540</id>
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    <title>I have more interests than I thought...</title>
    <published>2006-12-07T17:22:56Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-07T17:22:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="position:relative;width:100%;max-width:95%;overflow:visible;margin-top:30px;left:50px;margin-right:50px;"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -3px; POSITION: relative; TOP: 6px" height="86" src="http://re3.mm-a2.yimg.com/image/511440181" width="130" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="5"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -7px; POSITION: relative; TOP: 13px" src="http://re3.mm-a4.yimg.com/image/1045180598" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="3"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -9px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -14px" height="123" src="http://re3.mm-a3.yimg.com/image/975138066" width="130" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="3"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -13px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -17px" height="125" src="http://re3.mm-a8.yimg.com/image/2748376053" width="125" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="0"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -17px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -8px" height="124" src="http://re3.mm-a8.yimg.com/image/2845465515" width="125" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="1"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: 19px; 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POSITION: relative; TOP: 19px" height="125" src="http://re3.mm-a2.yimg.com/image/378240079" width="125" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="4"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: 17px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -14px" src="http://re3.mm-a3.yimg.com/image/916061813" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="7"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: 16px; POSITION: relative; TOP: 5px" height="165" src="http://re3.mm-a1.yimg.com/image/268044500" width="105" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="0"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -17px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -7px" height="160" src="http://re3.mm-a5.yimg.com/image/1974533100" width="115" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="1"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -16px; POSITION: relative; TOP: 11px" height="125" src="http://re3.mm-a3.yimg.com/image/823895961" width="104" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="0"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: 19px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -19px" src="http://re3.mm-a6.yimg.com/image/2089488768" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="6"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -8px; POSITION: relative; TOP: 10px" src="http://re3.mm-a4.yimg.com/image/1075613952" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="9"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: 16px; POSITION: relative; TOP: 7px" src="http://re3.mm-a6.yimg.com/image/2213434832" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="2"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: -17px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -10px" height="125" src="http://re3.mm-a6.yimg.com/image/2387483101" width="104" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="1"&gt;&lt;img style="LEFT: 1px; POSITION: relative; TOP: -12px" height="97" src="http://re3.mm-a6.yimg.com/image/2343895757" width="130" totalresultsreturned="10" urlindex="3"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top:30px;margin-left:50px;margin-bottom:30px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:smaller;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbs.thedarkrealm.net/apps/interestscollage/index.asp" target="_blank"&gt;Create your own!&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;Originally&amp;nbsp;Written&amp;nbsp;By&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='ga_woo' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://ga-woo.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://ga-woo.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;ga_woo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;,&amp;nbsp;Hosted&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;ReWritten&amp;nbsp;by&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='darkman424' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://darkman424.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://darkman424.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;darkman424&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty pictures.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:20405</id>
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    <title>Jasper</title>
    <published>2006-12-06T13:28:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-06T15:16:23Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm really worried about Jasper (my cat). :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't seem like his usual self at all - usually he's charging around in the garden, chasing the chickens, playing with his cat toys, terrorising my other cats, he's chatty (he often meows when you talk to him)... But these past few days, he's been the complete opposite and it's really troubling me. All he's been doing is sitting on his own in a corner of the landing, or on my bed, sleeping and/or generally just being very quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He won't even purr when I make a fuss of him and usually he loves that - especially when you pet him behind his ears, but no, nothing. :\ I don't know whether he's being like that just because it's winter and it's starting to get cold, or whether he's depressed, (can cats even get depressed?) or whether he's sickening for something. It just doesn't seem like normal behaviour for him at all. I'm not even sure if he's eating properly... Maybe he isn't eating at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jasper is my everything, and I'm not saying that just because I'm a cat lover - he really is - there's something special about him. I've never known another cat with the personality that he has. I love him to bits and we seem to have this bond that I've never had with an animal before. Since the day I first clapped eyes on him, we've been inseparable - he's like a dog in cat form. He follows me around the house, comes when I call or even whistle him, we play fetch together, he lies next to me in bed, he even "grooms" (licks) my hands and face! I remember the first night we had him - I had him in my room and he was curled up, fast asleep on my pillow. The next morning he woke me up by purring loudly and licking my fingers. :D Honestly, how many kittens do that on their first morning in their new home? It was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope he goes back to his normal self soon. Even my Mum is a bit worried - and she's pretty level-headed and relaxed about these sort of things.</content>
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    <title>I am So Fickle...</title>
    <published>2006-12-04T21:00:00Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-04T21:01:23Z</updated>
    <content type="html">... With my possessions. Miss Fickle of Littlehampton, that's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought "Gone With the Wind" on DVD last week, from eBay for £5.00, and since then I've fallen head over heels in love with it. Just been browsing Amazon.co.uk, and they're selling the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Gone-Wind-Special-Disc-Box/dp/B0006GVK20/sr=8-2/qid=1165265479/ref=pd_ka_2/203-0655762-7940710?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=dvd"&gt;Remastered 4-Disc Special Edition DVD Boxset for &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;£5.97&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;b&gt;Amazon.co.uk Review&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, if you're a GwtW fanatic, you must buy this four-disc collection. But then again, you probably don't need to read this to make that decision. For the rest of us, know that the kitchen-sink approach has been established here with two full discs of extras. The film's restoration under Warner's brilliant Ultra-Resolution process is the major contribution to the set. However, the bare-bones version released years ago isn't bad and the film still doesn't pop off the screen as do films from the headier days of Technicolor (like the earlier Ultra-Resolution DVD release of Meet Me in St. Louis). That said, the set is worthy of the most popular movie ever made. Rudy Behlmer's feature-length commentary is dry but an exhaustive reference guide to the entire history of the film. Need more? There's the excellent full-length documentary The Making of a Legend (1989) narrated by Christopher Plummer, plus two hour-long older biographies on the two main stars. There are many new vignettes on the rest of the cast, all narrated by Plummer (a nice touch to tie everything together). The new 30-minute interview/reminisce with Oliva de Havilland will be interesting to older fans, but tiresome for the younger set. The usual sort of trailers and premiere footage is here along with a curious short ("The Old South", directed by Fred Zinnemann) that was produced to help introduce the world to the history of the South. --Doug Thomas&lt;/i&gt;" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want it. Badly. :( It has extras, Clark Gable, more extras, a biography on Clark Gable, a Making Of documentary, Clark Gable....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddamnit Amazon, stop teasing me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six quid really isn't a lot for such a great boxset, but on the other hand, Dad will launch into another of his lectures about spending money wisely. Knowing me though, I'll &lt;i&gt;eventually&lt;/i&gt; give into temptation, buy it and sell the other DVD, or something. (I hope that's what will happen anyway! :P)</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:19735</id>
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    <title>laurav @ 2006-12-04T15:35:00</title>
    <published>2006-12-04T15:35:33Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-04T15:35:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I was so happy on Saturday night, but now I just feel washed out and defeated. I think it's because I was supposed to be going to Brighton on Sunday with Chris, but couldn't go - I woke up in the morning and my leg was &lt;i&gt;throbbing&lt;/i&gt;, I think I've pulled a muscle somehow. So I couldn't go because of that. I rang Chris up and apologised profusely, and he was really sweet about it - kept telling me not to worry and that "&lt;i&gt;it's okay, alright?&lt;/i&gt;". :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also extremely bored which isn't making me feel any brighter - went to work today (I volunteer in a Year 1 classroom) and I spent the whole morning making these Christmas sewing templates, something to help them with their fine motor skills, I think. There are 26 children in the class, so I had to cut out 26 squares of card (half red, half silver = Christmassy colours), draw Christmas trees on the back and then punch holes into them so the children can thread their wool through, to form the shape of a Christmas tree. I don't mind doing these odd jobs, something like that is quite theraputic, I just wish I felt happier. :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also told the other teaching assistant in the classroom, Jenny Caplin, about my Emetophobia... We grown to be very good friends through working together, and I felt as though I can trust her. But I didn't come straight out with it, she asked me how my driving lessons were going and I told her that I've been having trouble with my nerves before I set out and the trouble I had last Friday morning. I told her how Emetophobia affected me and she suggested that I get some counselling... She said she can get me some information, as she used to be involved in a counselling association. I hope she can - Being Emetophobic is a nightmare.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:19526</id>
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    <title>Rocky Horror</title>
    <published>2006-12-03T00:37:01Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-03T00:46:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Tonight was in two words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="16"&gt;FUCKING &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;AMAZING!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the &lt;i&gt;only&lt;/i&gt; way I can describe it - now, to remove the layers and layers of makeup from my face, then a cup of tea, cheese on toast and then bed. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve Pemberton (narrator): &lt;b&gt;"What further indignities were they to be exposed to..."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audience member: &lt;b&gt;"Living in 'Royston Vasey'!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve Pemberton: &lt;b&gt;"... If I wanted to hear from an arsehole I would've farted."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you Steve.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:19320</id>
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    <title>What a Morning :(</title>
    <published>2006-12-01T10:43:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-01T20:31:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Whenever I have a driving lesson in the morning, I swear, I don't feel nervous but my body still reacts as if I am. And this happened this morning - I got up, started to get ready, and it was as if my stomach and bowels were &lt;i&gt;screaming&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Fuck you bitch, we're gonna fuck you right up!!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt; (Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm like, "&lt;i&gt;Please, not now, I've got to go out in an hour!&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stomach/Bowels: &lt;font size="5"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"MUAHAHAHAHAHA1! *snort*"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "&lt;i&gt;Bastards.&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three trips to the bathroom and I'm feeling like someone has used my intestines as a skipping rope, when all I wanted to do is get dressed, have something to eat and get behind the wheel. Now I didn't feel like driving at all, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. And Stomach and Bowels are cackling evilly, mission accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this happens everytime without fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I went though all this agro, I was trying to finish getting ready, still feeling sour in my gut. Then Lawrence rang, (my instructor) saying he's really sorry, but he's gonna have to cancel my driving lesson. His washing machine has flooded and his wife needs him to help clean it all up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the tables are turned and I'm starting to feel ease in my stomach, all discomfort going away - and I do admit I feel relieved that I'm not driving today. But if all this is caused by subconcious nerves, how can I control it?</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:19025</id>
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    <title>Trenchcoat!</title>
    <published>2006-11-30T17:36:11Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-30T19:25:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I've always, always wanted a &lt;b&gt;black trenchcoat&lt;/b&gt;, and today I found one for £7 in the charity shop where I volunteer. :D It looks brand new too! Very happy with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've finally got my outfit for &lt;font color="#FF0000"&gt;The Rocky Horror Show&lt;/font&gt;, on Saturday, sorted too - I was going to go dressed up as Riff Raff - but I ended up leaving it to the last minute. Instead I'm wearing a short, black skirt, a sleeveless lacy black top, long FISHNET GLOVES (Thank you eBay! :D), fishnet tights, and boots. I think I'll blend in quite nicely. Really looking forward to it, I haven't seen it live since March, and we're closer to the front this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll wear my Rocky Horror charm bracelet too:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img212.imageshack.us/img212/6066/charmoh1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Neat, huh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has a:&lt;br /&gt;Lightning bolt &lt;br /&gt;Eddie's motorcycle &lt;br /&gt;The skeleton (from the coffin clock) &lt;br /&gt;Frank 'N' Furter's shoes &lt;br /&gt;The lips &lt;br /&gt;Eddie's saxophone &lt;br /&gt;A party hat (Rocky's birthday party)&lt;br /&gt;Playing cards ("Cards for sorrow... Cards for pain...")&lt;/center&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:laurav:18940</id>
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    <title>Clark Gable</title>
    <published>2006-11-29T19:17:32Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-29T22:19:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I bought a copy of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gone_with_the_Wind_%28film%29"&gt;Gone With the Wind&lt;/a&gt; - my manager described it as an "old, long, romantic film" and that I would enjoy it lots. I've only watched the first 45 minutes or so and I'm in awe with it already. As soon as the prelude music began, against a backdrop depicting scenes from 1860's rural Georgia, I was enchanted by it. That's when I knew that this was going to be a memorable viewing experience. :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't got much to say about it at the mo, except that I'm completely awestuck with Clark Gable/Rhett Butler. He'll all I can think about with regards to this film. He may be dead and may have been old enough to be my grandfather - but he is such a charmer in this film! I think is the epitome of masculinity, male chauvinism and charm.</content>
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    <title>A Fresh Start</title>
    <published>2006-11-28T21:44:12Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-29T00:04:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I decided to bite the bullet and delete every single old entry from this journal - I didn't think highly of how I was in those entries... Personally, I think I gave the impression of being childish, boring... The whole journal was filled with crap. So a fresh start was needed. Perhaps I am being a bit too hard on myself, but that's what I honestly think.&lt;br /&gt;You'll notice the layout's been re-designed too - we now have a awesome piano theme. :D (I had to seek out some tutorials from &lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='howto' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://community.livejournal.com/howto/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif' alt='[info]' width='16' height='16' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://community.livejournal.com/howto/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;howto&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to get it all going - it's been so long since I designed and coded an LJ layout). Laura &amp;hearts; piano. Playing the piano is her life! I hope you like the layout too.</content>
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