<?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-2645239979927769318</id><updated>2011-12-18T10:40:17.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Wicked This Way Comes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>85</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4922003417879962639</id><published>2011-12-18T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T10:40:17.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombie Dream, in bits and pieces</title><content type='html'>Unfortunately, I can't remember most of this dream, so this is mostly going to be a bullet point summary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; We started in the lobby of a 12 story hotel. We barricaded the doors and divided into groups of three, One on the 10th, one on the 11th, one on the 12th floor. I was on the 11th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We blocked the doorways and essentially got rid of all contact with the other floors. We tried to live as normally as we can, though floor 11 took over roof and fire escape access so we can observe our surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, a group of us tried to go up to floor 12 and it was in total chaos, we almost got shot and it appeared to have reverted to some sort of tribal state, where the 12th floor broke up into a few groups and they fought each other for food. We couldn't do anything to help with just the five of us, so we left and blocked them in again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went up to the roof to observe the surroundings. There were a lot of zombies milling about but they didn't seem interested at all. One of the guys I was with got pissed off and shot into the distance. We tackled him, and watched to see if the zombies could locate us, but luckily most of them actually headed in the direction the shot was fired, and very few stayed around us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point I ended up alone on the third floor fire escape to get a closer look at things, and then went to patrol the floors. I found about two zombies on the lower floors, probably there from before we got there and were just missed. When I got up to the 7th floor, it looked like someone had completely ripped out the 8th floor, making the 7th two stories. At the end there was this giant contraption. Apparently the 10th floor had expanded downwards and were making sacrifices. Two women walked passed discussing the next day's sacrifice which apparently went that two people would fight each other to get out of the giant contraption, and once the first person was out then they would lock the other person on where they would get sprayed with some sort of drug and starve to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, of course, that means I was discovered and had to participate in this sacrifice, except now there were three people instead of two. When one person got out, I was about to reach the door but they closed it and gassed both of us. I know that some small boy helped me get out, and his father, him and I made it to the stairwell where we went back up to the 11th floor to report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4922003417879962639?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4922003417879962639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4922003417879962639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4922003417879962639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4922003417879962639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/12/zombie-dream-in-bits-and-pieces.html' title='Zombie Dream, in bits and pieces'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6285011148589682433</id><published>2011-09-24T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:17:37.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey look...</title><content type='html'>... I'm changing the quotes. It's only been a freaking long time. Needa keep it consistent and post the old quotes though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here they are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life's disappointments are harder to take when you don't know any swear words." &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Righto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6285011148589682433?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6285011148589682433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6285011148589682433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6285011148589682433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6285011148589682433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/09/hey-look.html' title='Hey look...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-5676575255692217443</id><published>2011-09-14T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T10:17:48.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes! New Zombie Dream.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one began mid-outbreak. The zombies appeared to be somewhat intelligent. Not fast, but the would team up to try to break down a door/use door handles. A group of survivors and I were in what appeared to be a restaurant main lobby, that honestly wasn't very secure. The main lobby probably only lasted a day before the zombies were in, and 7 or 8 other survivors and myself made it to the kitchens and boarded up the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We survived in the kitchen for a few days before something happened and somehow one of them found us and there was pounding coming from the back door to the outside. We were unequipped (no guns, no training) but we focused on the fact that they all appeared to be out back and allowed 3 people to go out the front to look for help while we tried to hold the back door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few hours, we were beginning to lose hope (and the zombies at the door were fucking persistent when they knew we were there) when we heard gunfire and someone calling to us for us to open the door. The three had returned with about 5 others that had guns and we felt a bit safer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, after a little while something happened that caused me to need to go outside asap and draw the zombies away (I think I pulled the short straw) while only having a chopping board knife. I was supposed to loop back but I ended up being herded in one direction and had to run through a very deserted city hall. Somehow managed to make it far enough away to lose the zombies and ran across a 3 story tall apartment complex and tried my luck in it. There were some truly dumbass survivors in the main lobby, but they let me in and I yelled at them for standing in the main room of a nearly entirely glass building and not finding someplace concealed. I tried to give them tips, but it was too late. Zombies had spotted them through the glass and were making their way and piling up to break through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much told the people in the lobby that they should have boarded stuff up and not let me in, for survival sake, and booked it upstairs to try rooms to see if any were secure. I found one on the top floor that apparently had really paranoid people in it, as all the doors (even the bedrooms) had special locks to them that I felt would be really secure. I went through and locked all the doors to all the side rooms so that if the zombies go in they wouldn't immediately know which room I was in. The room I settled in had two beds and there was a lump in one. Nervous, I went to go poke the lump and it turned out to be a young girl (probably 11 or 12) that was crying. Her family had left her alone for the day and never came back when the outbreak started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to calm her down and went out to the kitchen to move most of the food to the bedroom.  The walls in the bedroom were all glass overlooking the street near the front of the building, but luckily all the blinds were closed. I watched as the zombies appeared to give up on the building, hoping that some of the others in the lobby made it somewhere safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I heard movement in the living room, and watched as the door started to unlock to the room we were in. Freaking out, I grabbed the knife and had the girl hide in the adjoining bathroom when the door opened and there was a perfectly healthy guy standing there pointing a gun at me. It turns out that he was the dad of the little girl and he and his Son finally made it back home to check on the girl. With them they brought 6 other people and a shit load of guns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to the living room and opened a window that people could take turns shooting out of and picking off stray zombies if they walked past. While I was telling my story I noticed one of the 6 other people had been awkwardly holding his side and it made me suspicious. Good thing, too, because about half a day later the guy turned and I had to behead him with a newly acquired sword. We made everyone check for bites after that and everyone else turned up clear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few days we were running low on food and hadn't seen a zombie walk past in a while, so we decided it was time to move on. We equipped ourselves as well as we could and exited the building, before staying down back roads trying to find another good place to set up camp. After a while we heard yelling and ducked into an open building, people flanking the door to peak outside. Down the road we saw people running at us, but they were clearly not zombies. They had seen us and seen what building we went into and ran straight to us, pointing their guns at us and forcing us to go with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if they were good or evil, trying to take over the new world. I know they looked ragged and were kinda gruff talking, but so were all of us. I just woke up as my group as being 'escorted' down a street to a building where they set up shop, and being yelled at because one of us was wearing red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-5676575255692217443?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/5676575255692217443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=5676575255692217443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/5676575255692217443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/5676575255692217443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/09/yes-new-zombie-dream.html' title='Yes! New Zombie Dream.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4852906829058687807</id><published>2011-06-26T11:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T23:38:30.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A less violent Hunger Games (I guess.)</title><content type='html'>I imagine this dream occurred because I finished The Hunger Games a few days ago, then have been musing about watching Battle Royal again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what I understand, the basic rules of the game is that there were two teams, 5v5, and each team had a bunch of information given to them and 15 questions that the other team had the answers to. If you managed to get the answers to all 15 questions,then combined it with your own knowledge then you could unlock untold riches. To get someone out of the games, there was no killing allowed but you were allowed to knock them unconscious where they would be suspended from the games for 36 hours, though some chose to make this is violent as possible to make the people returning useless.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how it all panned out, but I the first thing I remember is sitting in a large room talking to a bunch of old ladies about random goings on in life, when my teammate Mildred walks in and I ask her where our other teammate (whose name I don't recall other than it started with an M as well) was. Mildred told me she wasn't quite sure but she knew the other team decided to start taking hostages to try to get information out of us, and when they did, they'd replace the hostage and try to take another. The general setting appeared to be a large forest surrounded by mountains where you could look for caves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was probably not a good sign, so I took off while Mildred collected supplies from the old lady bunker. I found no sign of our other teammate but I did find three of the other team harassing my third teammate, Autumn, for information and slowly damaging her legs until she answered a question. To stop the torture, as I knew I couldn't take on three of them at once, I popped out from behind a tree and answered one of their questions, before standing in front of Autumn as a human shield. Luckily, Mildred managed to show up behind them and the leader of the group (who I shall call Jon, as you will see why in the next section) told his group to back down, and since we gave them some of the information willingly then he would release our teammate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other team, which consisted of a scrawny looking chick, a guy who vaguely resembled the guy who plays Jon Snow in Game of Thrones, and another guy who appeared to be Aldis Hodge (Hardison in Leverage). Their fourth teammate was probably guarding the hostage, and their fifth I had apparently rendered unconscious a few hours before finding the bunker. My fifth teammate was the only guy on our team and fit enough to be able to be useful, but that's all I recall about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My team regrouped, with Mildred and I helping Autumn walk, by a tree that vaguely reminded me of an Ent. After however long we had been playing, the opposing team had the answers to 6 of our questions, and we only had the answer to 4 of theirs. It was decided that I would go scout out a safer location to meet and see if I could find the other teams hide out. While hunting I ran across the guy who resembled Hardison on a rocky cliff side and there was a surprisingly dramatic battle that involved bo staffs and climbing on the rocks. We were evenly matched for the most part but when we were both exhausted, Hardison's teammates showed up and I, very quickly, became the hostage of the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest I remember involved being in a rather pleasant neck of the woods being questioned about the information and thinking it odd that the leader of the group was the one who was staying back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No idea how it ended, if we won or not. I really wonder what would happen if you only got like, 25 of the 30 total clues and were able to find the location from that... would it be cheating?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4852906829058687807?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4852906829058687807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4852906829058687807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4852906829058687807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4852906829058687807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/06/less-violent-hunger-games-with-tad-bit.html' title='A less violent Hunger Games (I guess.)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6094578540817241996</id><published>2011-03-07T16:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T17:42:51.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Zombies! Hurrah!</title><content type='html'>Well then, let's just get right into this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It begins with our protagonist, Patrick Stump, running with a guy who looks like he's a drill sergeant away from a bunch of extremely muddy people. Drill sergeant man helps Patrick over a fence but doesn't manage to make it over before he is overcome by the zombies and Patrick can't take too long to mourn his friend before he has to take off so the zombies don't catch him as they're starting to pile up before the fence and getting closer to climbing on each other to make it over. There was a long time of running, probably thirty minutes of so of running (Though in dream time this took maybe 2 minutes) until Patrick approached a really old, ornate building at the top of a hill in the distance and a few miscellaneous buildings a bit farther. It was clear that the area had been completely abandoned and so Patrick booked it up and into the ornate building and got the doors shut, the light illuminating the zombie's hands through the tinted windows as they pawed at the glass. All he could do was making sure the door was barred before he passed out from exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We now skip to a montage of Patrick waking up and finding food in a basement area, Vala from Stargate SG-1 and I showing up, Jared Padelecki showing up with his few month old son, two more guys and Smity showing up, somehow managing to get a signal on a crank TV that some of the guys found scavenging, throwing a mini-celebration as we hear news of the army slowly getting rid of zombies, Vala on a phone talking to authorities about a movement and how things are going, finally news on how most everything is zombie free, Vala and Patrick ending up doing a pseudo relationship thing, Jared somehow getting in contact with his wife, and a full out celebration the day before the army was going to come pick us up and take us to this new community for survivors. Total time span was probably about 4-6 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skip to a week or so after we've been moved to our new houses, Vala, Patrick, Jared, his Son, his wife, Smity and myself ending up staying in one fairly large house as the other few people stayed next door, having formed a bond after surviving a zombie apocalypse. We get word that it looks like some straggler zombies are headed towards the town, that is protected by the army but we still can't be too careful and I'm pretty sure there was a "aw, hell no!" thrown in as Jared, his Son (now about a year old) and I took off to go investigate. When we got there, we saw a decent amount of zombies (probably 30) scattered and coming up the path into town and the Army had stormtrooper syndrome and was missing horridly. Jared then handed me his son, ripped a signpost out of the ground and went and beat on the zombies to kill them (why he has super strength? No idea). There was a point where Jared lost the post and was knocked down, and one of the last zombies was about to get him when his son struggled out of my arms, ran to his dad, and punched the zombie so hard in the neck that it crushed the zombie's windpipe and incapacitated the zombie. Both Jared and I were shocked, but we went with it and returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whelp, that was only kinda weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6094578540817241996?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6094578540817241996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6094578540817241996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6094578540817241996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6094578540817241996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/03/more-zombies-hurrah.html' title='More Zombies! Hurrah!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4180786590567275075</id><published>2011-01-30T10:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T12:10:12.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And now we're Flying</title><content type='html'>Honestly, I don't think I could accurately do a weirdness warning for this dream... Just know that it follows three different people, who's sections will be signified by a ------[Title]------. I was not in this dream at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----[The Man]-----&lt;br /&gt;This begins with the Man, his Wife, his Sister, and his friend at the top of a tower in city called "Flying". This tower had been locked up, and no one really had been up there for a few generations but the Man had finally talked a crew into investigating it. At the top of the tower there was a rusty iron hang glider that the Man had taken intense interest in and was in the process of talking his family into letting him try it out even though the Wife keeps pointing to old documents that show that every single previous attempt on the glider has been a horrible failure. The Man decides to say sucks to his Wife's advice and ends up just taking off right there, using the argument that they're in a city named Flying, why is no one trying to fly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flight is a relative success, the Man lands with just a few cuts and scrapes and maybe a bruised rib a few miles away and he's so freaking excited that he has to do it again relatively soon. This is when things go bad, as the Man finds the next relatively tall building and takes another jump, only to get caught in some sort of updraft, lose control, and black out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----[The Sister, a year later]-----&lt;br /&gt;The Sister and her friend were boarding a small airplane with three doors that fit roughly 18 people when the friend all of a sudden got a weird look and he told her something was weird and turned right before he got on the plane, with her already stepping inside and as soon as she did the door closed right behind her and he couldn't get inside the plane after that, the stewardess telling her to take her seat and he'd have to get on a later flight. As the flight started to taxi down the runway, there were checks done to make sure the three doors were closed and the first two managed to close while the third door, the one located close to the cockpit was flung open by the momentum and the people couldn't reach the pilots to stop. All of the passengers buckled in and held on for their lives, not sure how long they had left, and once they were at a high enough altitude things began to break on the small plane and one by one the people were sucked out of the plane into oblivion. The Sister was the last person to be sucked out and as she was falling she muttered the irony of the fact that she was from a town called Flying and yet flying was gonna be the end of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----[The Man, Two years later]-----&lt;br /&gt;The Man shows up outside the Museum that has a connection to his house and awkwardly shifts as he knows he's been gone for a while, but he's not exactly sure how long because no one would tell him when he woke up and he went straight back home, thanking the people who's house he had woken up in. He enters the back room of the museum where workers are examining pieces that will be on display once they pass some tests and hears a gasp from the old Asian woman who had always been a family friend, and was head curator at the museum. She tells him he had been gone for twelve years and then tells him exactly where to find his Wife. His Wife, however, tells him he's only been gone for twelve days. The Man doesn't believe either of them, and is completely weirded out by the cheery disposition of everyone in the town. Later that night it is explained to him by his friend from earlier (who happened to be Jared Padalecki) that someone came into town a week ago and essentially forced the entire town to be overly happy and it was creeping him out. There was also a conversation about whether Supernatural had been renewed still after Jared had explained that it had been two years since his incident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the old Asian lady was explaining in grave terms what happened to his Sister when he feels a sudden pain and everything goes black, permanently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----[The Wife, sorta.]-----&lt;br /&gt;The Wife, possessed by the angry spirit of the Sister and more than likely the creepy person that forced everyone to be happy, had stuck her hand through the Man and caused him to turn into colored flakes of gold. She then did the same with the old Asian woman while everyone else screamed in terror and ran out of the museum. There was a small interlude where the Wife then went to go get skittles but couldn't eat them because when she touched them they turned into rainbow colored gold flecks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure that's when my brain decided it was too freaking weird, because then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4180786590567275075?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4180786590567275075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4180786590567275075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4180786590567275075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4180786590567275075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-now-were-flying.html' title='And now we&apos;re Flying'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8537713415148250595</id><published>2011-01-27T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T11:31:40.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Under Za Sea</title><content type='html'>More Strangeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This began with my family and I on a long boat (two people across, 20 people back, ish) on a trip to begin whale watching while my dad talked about how he used to run this tour. Within 10 minutes there was a incredibly long orca whale swimming in front of the boat, even stopping and letting me (at the very front of the boat) to touch it before diving deep in the ocean. We were able to find another three or four whales within 30 minutes and the tour guide commented how odd it was to even find one. Once we were far enough away from the coast that we couldn't see it anymore there was a splash and a guy had dove out of the boat and was swimming downwards. Almost simultaneously myself, an average girl, a guy that was similar to the action heroes of zombie movies, and a tall elf-like man (who was still human, but that's the best way I could describe his figure) dove after the first man who just kept swimming deeper and deeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got far enough we realized we had no issue breathing underwater and the pressure wasn't affecting us. We approached a colony that was kinda reminiscent of the Little Mermaid and noticed other people swimming around observing these bright green patches. We swam up to these people and asked what they were doing and they told us that they were farming patches of baby krill because some man was going around and killing patches of the ocean floor and these baby krill could help heal the patches if they were placed in the center. The elf-man described the man who had jumped off our boat and these people confirmed that that was the guy attacking the ocean and gave us a vague direction for where to find him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind skipped to the four of us finding the man and beating him while swimming back to shore, however it was a different shore than we originally took off from. When we defeated the man he apparently lost his ability to breathe underwater and by the time we got up there he was dead. We dropped off his body anonymously at a local police station, I called my family, and we went to research where in the world we ended up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found an inn where the innkeeper put us up for the night but we had to stay in the kitchen because all the rooms were full. We were happy enough to have a place to sleep and eat that we didn't care and just passed out, the elf-man falling asleep in the bathtub because it was most comfortable for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The innkeeper woke us up abruptly at around 3 in the morning telling us that two threatening men were looking for us and it didn't look good at all. We had to hurry out, making her promise to hide the elf-man who we couldn't get to and gave her a rendezvous point so we could find him again. The three of us ran out the door just as the two men came running into the kitchen and saw us leaving. We though the city, which appeared to be a semi-deserted Rome, with a population of only about a thousand I'm guessing and bobbed and weaved around buildings to try to throw them off our tail before hopping over this wall and onto a grassy patch where we pressed ourselves against the wall and waited and listened for the two men to pass. Once they, FINALLY, did we had to discuss a plan to figure out what to do now once we met up with elf-man again, as they were clearly after us for taking care of the guy in the ocean and we stumbled into something we probably shouldn't have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8537713415148250595?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8537713415148250595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8537713415148250595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8537713415148250595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8537713415148250595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/01/under-za-sea.html' title='Under Za Sea'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7528277330770144980</id><published>2011-01-23T09:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T09:57:04.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something rather strange.</title><content type='html'>This was probably one of my more strange dreams, and there's a lot of time skips so time skips will be signified by &lt;br /&gt;-------------------------[time period skipped]-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with my mom and I at an airport buying five plane tickets to Italy, for Paige, Caitlin, Kevin, John and myself. I ended up having to call Caitlin to make sure she could go before we bought the ticket, because you never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------[Short Period after arriving in Italy]-----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had apparently ditched everyone to go meet up with this random woman who took me through an elevator that went down then sideways then up again to open into a random warehouse where there were three guys sitting around the back that I was introduced to, then she went to hit on one of the guys while telling me to go introduce myself to the guys in front. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked to the front of the building to see two guys sitting in a shop that was attached to the warehouse. While the guys in the back were more bulky (not creepily so, but still, they were pretty buff and looked like they could punch your face in) these guys looked younger and lanky. It was obvious they could still kick some ass but that wasn't their primary concern. The one behind the counter was setting up some long cords that led to monitors back in the warehouse while the other guy was placing small objects on his person and checking a small laptop to make sure everything was okay. I figured out, after telling them I was the new member of the team, that they were about to send the guy putting stuff all over him on a mission to retrieve information from the target, and if he succeeded we'd get paid even more even though the main purpose was to kill the man we were stealing information from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us except the guy going on the mission then crowded around the TVs in the back while the guy left and we got a first person view of his mission. Once he arrived at the target's building he peered around the front floor windows trying to look for any first floor entrances, though it was pretty obvious he wouldn't find any. He then used the cover of large plants to activate his backpack that produced six large spider legs that would help him scale the wall so he could find the target's office, as this building didn't belong to the target he just owned a few of the offices on the 4th floor. Our guy then had to hide behind pillars and other convenient things whenever guards that were patrolling the outside looked up (which wasn't that frequent, we muttered something about how people should really look up more). Our guy then saw three female triplets enter through the front door via a machine that could crack a lock and one of them looked directly at him but nothing more was heard from them throughout the dream, perhaps they had other stuff to deal with, perhaps they were trying to steal the same stuff we were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our guy finally got into the building and into the office using more nifty gadgets from his backpack. He then had to locate the discs that would have the information we needed and while he was looking around he saw a slim PS2, but right above that he saw a plant sitting on one of the bulky PS2s and he opened the bulky PS2 to see FF-XIII, removed that game, closed  the PS2 and opened it again which allowed him to unlock the top part of the CD enclosure and find a stack of 3 discs that were the ones we needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, it was at this time that our target showed up and got the upper hand on our guy and knocked him out and we lost the feed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------[PoV change, not very far into the future]-------------&lt;br /&gt;Skip to a 3rd person point of view with our tech guy waking up and being strapped to a wall while he notices that all of his tech is on a table on the other side of the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, unfortunately, that's all my dream told me about him in that situation, hope we ended up rescuing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------[Flashback that doesn't make any sense]-------------&lt;br /&gt;The real reason this doesn't make any sense is because earlier I had introduced myself to these guys, and this takes place with these guys clearly before what just happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with myself and the tech guy that got captured sitting on a bench next to a raised podium where Spaceboy from Umbrella Academy was giving a speech. We sat around talking about Doctor Who while the other guy from the front of the store who sat up the TV was breakdancing in front of us. We weren't really paying attention to Spaceboy's speech we just knew it was about to end and looked up to see him eating a scarab and then everybody applauding the end of his speech. He then went on to introduce the Queen who had to walk to the podium from the back of the room, but she was an old lady so it took her a few minutes to get up there. The reason that was important is because this chick was supposed to sing while she approached the podium, but what she was supposed to sing was only about four words long so she had to sing the last note for about 3 minutes before she could stop. I then handed the Queen a champagne glass filled with water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7528277330770144980?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7528277330770144980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7528277330770144980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7528277330770144980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7528277330770144980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/01/something-rather-strange.html' title='Something rather strange.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6410978696787178325</id><published>2011-01-12T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T16:40:40.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Boy~ 3 New(ish) Dreams</title><content type='html'>Well, two are really new in the sense that I had them last night, one is kinda new in the sense that i had it about a month ago and just posted a small quip about it on facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna start with the facebook one and go in order of having them, I guess (also, it fills me with weird joy that the word "facebook" is red squiggle underlined).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream started with me standing next to Sephiroth while doing absolutely nothing for about 30 seconds before he transitioned to Ezio and we were on top of a roof with some final goal in mind because I had to follow him while jumping from roof to roof. We ended up breaking through a small window and managing to slide through it to end up in a tub, in my bathroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is at this time that Ezio shifted again into Gerard Way and we were sitting on the edge of the tub discussing this one pirate videogame that we couldn't name when Frank Iero walked in and gave us weird looks. I then went walking up and down my street and every few houses, in the space between two houses there was this mysterious fog and a ghost ship appeared and a giant skull hung in front of it and I had to talk to this floating skull a few times before it would tell me the name of the videogame that Gerard and I were talking about (which I learned was called "on strange tides", like the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got this information and went back into my house to tell Gerard, my house shook and transformed into a pirate ship that ended up at the top of my neighborhood next to the ghost ship where I got information from, which was manned by zombie pirates. We then had to race the zombie pirates down my street to see who could get to the gate first but the zombies cheated and managed to place a bomb that blew up the ship when we were remarkably close to the end and we floated in the water when we realized this was better because then we wouldn't crash into the gate to get through, we just had to swim under it, and so we still managed to beat the zombie pirates by swimming the last way, but when they finally got through the gate, their ship also destroyed, we decided that because they cheated (and they were zombies) we had to destroy them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream two, the first of last night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream started with me stumbling into the forest from a river, pretty beat up and completely out of it. There appeared to be no people or buildings for miles and that I was alone in a vast wilderness until, after a while of stumbling through the forest, two dogs (Divot and Tuttle - the labs from next door) found me and then their owner, Tom Hardy, followed them to where they found me. He had a pretty large house near the road that went thought he forest (still a bit of a distance from the road, but you could at least see it from there) and then behind the house there was a smaller cottage-like building with a main room, a small kitchen and a bathoom where Tom said I could live however long I needed to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the part where I feel like a missed a major plot point in my dream but time skipped to about half a year from then so I was completely better and it appeared that Tom Hardy and I had a vague agreement but we really weren't very good friends. I think met someone who went by the name of "Panther" and together, he and I called the authorities that showed up at Tom's house where I ran up and told them (with Tom standing near me) that Tom had been doing -enter bad thing here that was that plot thing that I missed- and they took Tom away while I inherited the house and the dogs and gave "Panther" the cottage that I had been staying in as well as this newer building to the left of the house, closer to the road that he used to open up a restaurant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel pretty bad for betraying Tom Hardy after all he did for me, I really wish I knew what I blamed him for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final one, Definitely the shortest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with me and four other people being about half way up a thirty story tall building during a Zombie invasion that was slowly working it's way up the building. We were talking to Plastic Man and Beast on walkie talkies and Beast came up with the plan that if Plastic Man, who was outside the building but safe enough from the zombies, could make sure all the zombies get into the building we could make our way to the top of the building to meet Beast on the roof, while setting charges for bombs on our way up. Once Plastic Man made sure the zombies were all in the building, he could then set charges around the first few levels using his stretching skills and then stretch up to come get us from the roof and bring us back down to safety where Beast would then set off the bombs and level the building and the zombies with it, stopping the outbreak. Essentially, we agreed to this and were working our way up when I woke up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6410978696787178325?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6410978696787178325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6410978696787178325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6410978696787178325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6410978696787178325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2011/01/oh-boy-3-newish-dreams.html' title='Oh Boy~ 3 New(ish) Dreams'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1412671877345283749</id><published>2010-10-09T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T17:34:27.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A camping we will go.</title><content type='html'>'Nother zombie dream. Happened when I was napping which was weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I remember happening is waking up in a chair in the middle of a camper and looking around to see 5 people sleeping on beds in the back, two people up front and another guy sleeping in a chair next to me. Also, My cat Wally was sitting in my lap, rather tame. I hopped up and asked what the status was from the two people in the front and apparently they hadn't seen anyone in a while as we were driving through the country in the middle of nowhere headed to less populated towns on the east coast, as the infection had started in the north west and we had heard it hadn't reached to the east coast yet and our driver knew someone who kept a pretty secure house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll stop the explain the infection that seemed to work like this. The sign of the infected was very obvious, as the infected always went for the neck or hands, so people never trusted anybody that covered those two parts of the body, and those were the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; signs of infection. For the most part the infected acted relatively normal, especially within the first few days of infection they could still hold conversation and plan, but as soon as they saw someone that was not infected they went on a rampage to kill them. This was especially horrible because that meant during the first few days of infection they would form packs and go hunting in them. They didn't truly lose their minds until about the 5-7 day of infection where they would spend most of their time searching, completely ignoring all other human needs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the present. We continued driving for another hour or two, though even then it was still around 3 AM so there was virtually no light out and we drove without headlights on, when the road started to narrow even more (as we were taking back roads) and all of the sudden we were blinded by lights and there were people in the road with guns wearing large jackets. We woke everybody up quickly, minus the one child (age 8-11 or so) with us and grabbed guns just in case while people started firing at us when we didn't slow down and they manged to get us pretty bad where we swerved off the road and tumbled down a hill and had to scramble out of the truck, while I grabbed Wally and one of the others grabbed the kid. We managed to make it pretty far from the camper when we found this cargo truck on the side of a road, a man sleeping in the passenger seat and we carefully approached, grabbing and pulling the man (dead with pills in his hand) out of the cab part of the truck then getting everybody else into the truck, which had a convenient hole to get directly back into the cargo area and we checked that out to make sure it was free of infected. We drove longer and got to a state (I believe... Georgia?) on the east coast when something happened abruptly and it was a mass chaos of guns and running and other people, infected and not, and I managed to get away with Wally following after me and the driver who knew the way to the safe house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time skipped here until we got to the safe house hours later while hijacking a normal car and the neighborhood was quite, as if it hadn't been touched by the infection which was a good sign as we took that as the infection hadn't gotten that far. We knocked on the door at the end of a cul-de-sac and got buzzed into this caged area where a few teenage guys were standing with guns pointed at us while another older guy walked in, saw our driver and the lack of marks we had on our hands and necks and let us in. He then gave us the tour around the insanely safe looking house and I let Wally have the free roam of the house while we talked of the situation in the garage (which was right next to the bathroom and across from the laundry room, where spongebob was playing on the tv) myself, one of the young girls who was at the house, the old man who's house it was, and the driver were outside checking around seeing what cars would be useful if all else failed and trying to move them too the garage when we heard crashes and I looked behind to see people running at us looking manic while the girl was still 10 feet behind and wouldn't run towards me. I tried to wait as long as I could but it was too late and the infected got her while I had to dive into a truck and lock the doors and hide from sight. It eventually calmed down and the driver came out of the house and knocked no the car door window, giving me the sign I could get back into the house, while now I had to step over hundreds of nails welded upwards in lines to get into the house (as the infected would just step on the nails and cripple themselves). We mourned the loss of the girl and I went to go change into some spare clothes from the lady of the house, who had been ill for over a year (not infected ill, just normal ill) and was up in the master bedroom. We then hear a knock on the door and someone begging for us to let them in and the door is opened and this guy in a large, mischlein man coat, walks into the cage area. Apparently this man was an evil man in general, having poisoned the house owner's wife and causing her to be ill, so the house owner told us to let him into the cage and we watched has he (pretty brutally) killed this infected guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1412671877345283749?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1412671877345283749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1412671877345283749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1412671877345283749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1412671877345283749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/10/camping-we-will-go.html' title='A camping we will go.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6009433483317643105</id><published>2010-08-12T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T11:05:53.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Supernatural and Zombie-like people.</title><content type='html'>Just gonna get into this. I actually wasn't in this dream a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with Sam walking up to Dean who was sitting on a wooden fence by the side of the road that was right next to the entrance of a forest. Sam asked Dean what he was doing there, because apparently they had been separated, and Dean told him that where he was was the location to meet up with Cas and I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sam then wakes up in the passenger seat of the Impala with Dean sleeping in the drivers seat and me stretched out napping in the back. We were by the side of a road a few miles away from a city in the middle of a desert and the sun was just about to start rising when Sam looks behind us and says "Oh shit" and wakes Dean and I up. Behind us was a jeep with four people who looked extremely sick in it (like, dripping noses and off colored skin), the  four people then jumped out of the jeep and started 'running' (more like powerwalking) towards us. I then wanted to slap myself in the dream because I suggested that they might need help, but Dean just started driving off. I compared the sickness to a less violent croatoan virus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was apparently the very beginning of a mass infection, as then there were very many flashes of those four people infecting other people, then those people infecting more. There was one scene that really stuck out, which is where there was a sick person in a tree and it sneezed and the mucus got on a man in a open top double decker bus who then sneezed and a minute later the entire bus was sick and pulled over at the side of a road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently then I went missing as the next time I saw the boys was when Sam was in the garage of an abandoned house with a sweet old lady motherly type who doesn't get out often and therefore wasn't sick. Dean had gone out to get something and Sam was waiting for Dean to call so he could make a plan to get out of the house without letting the infected in for the lady, who was heavily stocked and could last a good long while in that house. He got the call, sent the lady back inside, and opened one of the three garage doors before barrel rolling out underneath it before it got too high and jumping into the car just as the infected started heading their way. Sam then remembered his dream (the one with Dean sitting by the road) and asked Dean if he knew any location similar to what he described in the dream. Apparently Dean knew just the place and headed that way when the  dream flashed to Cas and I running heading through the forest to meet the boys at the location.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was... Interesting to say the least&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6009433483317643105?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6009433483317643105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6009433483317643105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6009433483317643105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6009433483317643105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/08/supernatural-and-zombie-like-people.html' title='Supernatural and Zombie-like people.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8680483518790127344</id><published>2010-07-17T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T12:05:57.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been watching too much Supernatural</title><content type='html'>Short, Random Dream. Also, Stars are starting to work their ways into my dreams because I've been having quite a few random ones about comic-con.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It started out with Dean, Sam, and I chilling in a hotel room at some giant ass resort that also had a waterpark. No idea why we were there or why I was with them, but whatever. Sam and I were looking for new hunts in newspapers while Dean was peaking out the window at girls in swimsuits and trying to talk us into staying a night there, which we eventually decided to because it was already getting rather late in the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then segued into a conversation about a live action Johnny Bravo Movie, where we couldn't remember who the actor was who was going to play Johnny, so I went on a mission to this little directory/information area where I got directed to these two guys who looked like the random FBI guys that show up twice in the first season of Leverage (sorry for all who don't watch Leverage). The guys then looked at me odd for my question and typed something into the computer, made a very stupid joke, and handed me a piece of paper that had some obscure squiggly drawing on it. I just scoffed, rolled my eyes, and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When walking back to the room, I ran across Dean who was talking to a few girls and when he saw me he threw me the Impala keys and told me that the gas tank was running low and I should go get gas. At first I was stunned that he was letting me drive the impala, and then rolled my eyes because he didn't even ask, he demanded. I went to get gas and burgers anyway, driving past a billboard that said that Sean Penn was going to be Johnny Bravo (wat.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back to the hotel, it was late and the boys were both asleep and then there was a time skip to the morning where we were checking out and talking to the lady who owned the hotel, where apparently there had been a murder in a locked room last night with no evidence. Dean cheered, because apparently we had a case there while Sam booked another room and I looked at magazines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8680483518790127344?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8680483518790127344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8680483518790127344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8680483518790127344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8680483518790127344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/07/ive-been-watching-too-much-supernatural.html' title='I&apos;ve been watching too much Supernatural'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4598207819205739054</id><published>2010-07-09T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T11:46:08.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Space - The Final Frontier</title><content type='html'>First dream I actually really remember since the last post. Other than the one that consisted of Woody, Dakota, and I driving up to Yosemite and Woody just relentlessly mocking Dakota the entire time. Though, there was more to that dream that I can't remember, one of those moments that makes you think "Yup, I'm dreaming". Even then, I don't remember &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt; much of this dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        The first thing I remember is being pushed and shoved into what looked like a crate that you would find on a dock (Or, for those people who have played Sonic Adventure Battle two, the crates  that you can get to on Knuckle's Space level) with a bunch of other people, including Jeffery Dean Morgan and another famous guy (I wanna say Chris Evans, because I've been on a The Losers kick lately). where there was a bunch of screaming and crying until JDM yelled at everyone to be quiet so he could think, and I somehow managed to slow the passage of time for me because I was getting a headache and it made the noise go slower and for some reason softer. The other guy (who I'll just refer to as Chris Evans, cause It's easier) noticed something was off about me and went over to me and I snapped back to reality, and then the guys and I tried to make a plan to get out of the crate where no one would get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      All we managed to do was find a significant crack in the back top corner that we could probably bust through with enough force and the guys who forced us into the crate opened up the doors and pointed guns at us and told us to move our asses. This is when we noticed that we were on a spaceship, there being windows in the hold for some reason. JDM then punched one of the guys in the face and took his gun while Evans snuck up on another guy and got him in a choke hold, turning it into a rather awkward double hostage situation. after a standoff (Baddies who actually cared about one of their teammates, who knew.) reinforcements for the baddies came and we got taken over, including JDM being shot in the arm and Evans being punched a few times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      We were eventually placed in this line, that looked suspiciously like the line to get on Riddler's Revenge at Magic Mountain, to be placed into what looked like a monorail to be ejected into space. In the line next to me, there was a young boy, couldn't be more than Ten or Eleven, who I noticed kept flickering like a TV with bad reception, so I slowed down everything around me and watched the kid move with super speed to the guards and steal their things. So when he was back to casual standing in between the stealing I started to chat with him, and had to communicate to JDM and Evans to come over to my line, which was closer to the front of the tram. We then came up with a plan for me and the Kid to use his powers to clear a path and then for me to use my powers around the other two to get to the front of the tram so we could try to hijack it before it took off, and reset the course to Earth, as it was currently headed to an uninhabitable planet farther off than Pluto. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up then, not sure if we succeeded, still not sure why were were being shoved around and almost killed. It was strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a like, 10 minute dream in the same night where I was at the movie theatre seeing an action movie and yelling at a guy to stop playing on his iPad the entire movie and a girl who kept getting phone calls, when suddenly the lights turn on and I hear "HOLY SHIT, It's Ross Perot!" and apparently Ross Perot and his apparent wife and Son were watching the movie. He made a speech.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4598207819205739054?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4598207819205739054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4598207819205739054' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4598207819205739054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4598207819205739054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/07/space-final-frontier.html' title='Space - The Final Frontier'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3463678955386848892</id><published>2010-04-16T10:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T10:19:46.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go go Spider-Sara</title><content type='html'>So, I had a dream that I was Spiderman(woman, whatever) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was even more random was that I was at a college that was like, Half UCSD half AVC and I walked into this class that I was apparently taking that was taught by Normal Osborn, and I'm not being really inconspicuous (Cause like, I was wearing a spiderman hoodie...) and sat in the back with some friends that I've never seen before to talk about final fantasy before Proff. Osborn came up to me and asked me what I was doing in the back as apparently I was a genius student and had a permanent seat in the front. So after I escaped that class (and he wanted me to stay for the next class he taught which was math instead of robotics) I went and moved my car to the other side of campus and went to my History class taught by Cassidy, which apparently Norman Osborn was also in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3463678955386848892?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3463678955386848892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3463678955386848892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3463678955386848892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3463678955386848892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/04/go-go-spider-sara.html' title='Go go Spider-Sara'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-974991344710198197</id><published>2010-04-14T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T08:49:18.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dream (With Zombies, but no Pegasus)</title><content type='html'>This Dream is kinda quick because I don't remember too much about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;So it starts with this guy who reminds me of Steve Carell sitting in a small shop that is in what appears to be an outdoor mall. The shop has a back room, a bathroom and glass Windows. It's probably about two months into the zombie infestation based on the lack of a significant amount zombies and Steve's impartial attitude towards the fact that it's the middle of the day in an outlet mall and there is nobody around. Also, there is a Zombie/thing in the back room. I wouldn't really call it a Zombie because it was more sentient than the other Zombies but it (very obviously a Man, let's call him Josh) looked pretty banged up and Steve has had conversations with him about him having been bitten but not fully changed. This makes Josh a valuable Asset in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh, if wearing enough clothing, passes off as a human enough to go outside with Steve whenever they're searching for enough food, but Steve generally leaves him behind to hold the fort. Steve leaves off for a Grocery store that he has never been to as the previous one ran out of stock and there are stories that this store has been able to keep restocking even during the infestation. He gets there (coming across one or two zombies on the way, no big deal) and picks up some food while talking to the owner, when it seems like 30 or so zombies come out of nowhere and are by the front of the store. The store is pretty well protected so it's not too big of an issue but Steve wants to get home and the shop owner (random brunette lady) talks about how she has an underground tunnel to her house, which is closer to his shop thing and he thanks her before taking the tunnel and returning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty large time shift to where Steve hears about this party held by people who are pretty well known zombie slayers, but kinda douche bags and Steve doesn't approve of their methods so they're kinda enemies. Steve goes to the party and is talking to the son of the head of the group and the Son shows Steve his father's Van that has been turned into a weird type of mobile home with enough room for The father and Son. Shit goes down when the father comes out and sees that the son has shown Steve important shit and Steve takes his queue to leave, arriving back to his shop to see Josh taking care of some zombies and there being a hole in the shopfront window. After the zombie issue is done Steve just sighs and starts packing, talking about how they have to move /again/ &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-974991344710198197?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/974991344710198197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=974991344710198197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/974991344710198197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/974991344710198197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/04/dream-with-zombies-but-no-pegasus.html' title='A Dream (With Zombies, but no Pegasus)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7606993164925358228</id><published>2010-04-11T09:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T10:23:29.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dream (without Zombies, but has Pegasus to make up for it)</title><content type='html'>So I don't remember too much of the main concept other than the fact that almost every person in the world was trapped in their minds/imaginations. So it was generally viewed as a good thing if the person wasn't aware of what the hell was going on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It started with these two Men (Let's call them Arthur and Merlin, because one was a warrior and the other was a Wizard. I've been watching that show too much.) meeting in a different person's mind (I don't know how they got there, but both of them ended up there). The imagination wasn't that exciting, it was essentially a medium sized city and no real intense shit was going on. The guys didn't know what to do and after the initial 'what the hell?' discussion went meandering around. People could acknowledge their presences but it wasn't like they were really there so they had to get information from listening in to conversations. Don't remember this part too well but they eventually found the owner of the imagination and before they got to speak to her(him? don't remember) there was a phase shift to another person's mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They eventually got through three or four different minds without being able to actually talk to the person who's mind it was before ending up in a forest where I was sitting and staring at a tree trying to figure out how to cut it down so I could make a bow and some arrows. They had a chat with me (which was a first for them and they tried to get as much information as they could) and Arthur helped me find some tools that would help me with the tree and then I directed them through the forest to this giant castle where everything was going on in the imagination, which was much more vast than the others that they had been to. They got to the castle, that had an amazing amount of white horses, and everyone acknowledged who they were and the lord and lady of the castle walked out to size them up. They eventually ended up giving Merlin a room and threw Arthur into a large caged tower in the center (well, it was like a solid brick tower but the door was a giant cage door) to take down this giant Yeti/elephant/stone creature to test his might. He took it down after a while but they left him in the tower thing and Merlin had to sneak around and scale the walls of the castle while avoiding guards that stood on top of the walls. He got pretty far and was standing just out of sight of a guard (a little above him and to the right, and since the guard thought he was higher than any infiltrator he’d never look up) preparing to cast some spell when he got clipped by an arrow from a guard on the ground who was directed by the lady of the castle. He got caught and the lord and lady let Arthur go as to have him watch them take Merlin to this underground cave area with a giant lake where there were more white horses that then shook and spread what looked like wings. Turns out they were Pegasus. The people of the castle/town area then made Merlin drink from the lake and it turns out that drinking from the lake turned him into a Pegasus. Pegasus!Merlin then followed Arthur around as he stayed in the forest around the castle so he could figure out how the heck to turn Merlin back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up before Merlin got turned back, they figured out who’s dream it was (It was probably mine, I’m always important in my dreams even if I’m not there too much) or if everyone was stuck staying in the imaginations (I imagine that if this scene was so different, it was probably around the starting point, so I might have been unintentionally evil). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, interesting dream. When they went through the first four or so dreams I kind of felt like the Benny hill song should be playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"The unreal is more powerful than the real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. because its only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. stone crumbles. wood rots. people, well, they die. but things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are." &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7606993164925358228?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7606993164925358228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7606993164925358228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7606993164925358228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7606993164925358228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/04/dream-without-zombies-but-has-pegasus.html' title='A Dream (without Zombies, but has Pegasus to make up for it)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6676100288180756154</id><published>2010-04-02T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T20:22:00.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Posting Again.</title><content type='html'>I love how whenever I look back on things I realize I'm a whiny Bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna turn this into a Dream log essentially, or when I see something really awesome (Like, How to Train your Dragon, which I saw today and was the cutest thing on the face of this planet.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, this website is hilarious. &lt;a href="http://www.conveythis.com/translation.php"&gt;Bad Translator&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been watching Stargate: SG-1, Balancing Videogames and Schoolwork. Might occasionally rant about those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Some men aren't looking for anything logical like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6676100288180756154?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6676100288180756154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6676100288180756154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6676100288180756154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6676100288180756154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2010/04/posting-again.html' title='Posting Again.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3017323320208795620</id><published>2009-06-28T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T19:27:36.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meh</title><content type='html'>Well, the wedding (not the actual wedding, the reception) depressed me a lot, mainly because it was me sitting in the back of the room drinking non-alcoholic drinks while everybody else danced to crappy music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to leave. I want to win the lottery and go to like... Madrid or /something/. I think it'd be far more interesting than my life currently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda worried about class registration that's on Monday the 6th. Still haven't done that damn councilors appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just. Ergh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3017323320208795620?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3017323320208795620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3017323320208795620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3017323320208795620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3017323320208795620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/06/meh.html' title='Meh'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6531595135958684407</id><published>2009-06-27T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:55:59.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And These are the Best Years of our Lives.</title><content type='html'>Here I sit, in a hotel room in North Carolina at 12:39 PM East Coast, 9:39 PM West coast, writing while my parents sleep-and my father snores-in the next bed over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here for my cousin's wedding. I haven't seen this cousin since I was roughly three or four, which is forever and a day being eighteen now. This wedding was really just an excuse to get the entire family in one place. The only one we're missing is my cousin Riki. Been here for one full day and I must say, it's been one of the most interesting days of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're in a hotel across the street from an enormous Mall (Macy's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; a Dillard's), with one of the stores being interestingly named "Dick's Sporting goods". My family, I expected this from my immediate family but wasn't so sure about the uncles and cousins, decide that we need to go to Dick's and buy shirts that just say "Dick's" on them so we can wear them to the pre-wedding party and scare the groom's family. Unfortunately, this store is intelligent and doesn't carry shirts that say Dick's. Fortunately, however, they do sell drink cozies that say Dick's. We end up buying about thirteen of those and take them to the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;But&lt;/span&gt; it wasn't until we got back from the party that things start to happen that make me think. From 9:00 until Midnight the entire family (about fifteen of us) hang out in my hotel room and chat about everything and tell stories. My favorite of the stories was when we were talking about my Grandfather (who died when I was four) and my brother and I were talking about how we didn't get to know him much, so my cousin's date decides to take the opportunity to say that we'll see him again someday. Then there is a kinda silent awkward pause and my brother quips "Yeah, 'cause we're /all/ going to hell" and everybody starts laughing to the point of almost crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I'm trying to say is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm sitting here, I've gotta thing, that there isn't much that really gets better than times like this. I'm fresh out of high school, eighteen, and about to encounter the real world. I'll make new friends, I'll make new memories, and there will be ups and downs. But I know that when I'm thinking back on the great times in my lives, a hell of a lot will come from the past few years. Growing up, hanging out with friends, traveling, telling funny stories with/about my family, and learning while still being a child and being able to depend on people. This is what I'll love, and this is what I hope will continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6531595135958684407?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6531595135958684407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6531595135958684407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6531595135958684407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6531595135958684407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-these-are-best-years-of-our-lives.html' title='And These are the Best Years of our Lives.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1196608769589698972</id><published>2009-06-10T20:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T20:52:08.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Three things that have made me cry.</title><content type='html'>... Well, in fictional stories, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't usually get attached to characters enough to cry when something happens. Usually it's just a "aw, dammit, not again!" type of feeling and ranting about it for a while. But nope, these are the three things so far that have really touched me enough to make me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The end of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Where the Red Fern Grows&lt;/span&gt; when I was in fifth grade. Dammit, that was depressing, and it was about dogs. I couldn't take it. I was bawling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The end of Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core. I went into that game knowing that Zack was going to die, that he had to die for the plot to continue. But nope, When that time came around I was sobbing in the back a rental van in Texas, while on vacation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-And here I sit, Reading the Batman 687 comic I bought today that focuses around the death of Batman. So far I've known about his death for a few months, and I've never come close to crying for my beloved childhood superhero. But when Superman asked Alfred if he was alright and Alfred's reply was: "Am I 'all right'? No, sir. I am not. My son has died." That just let loose the tears. And then Dick and Alfred Cry two pages after. Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only other things that got me close to crying was when Beckett died in SGA, and then in Interstella 5555 when Shep died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1196608769589698972?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1196608769589698972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1196608769589698972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1196608769589698972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1196608769589698972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/06/three-things-that-have-made-me-cry.html' title='The Three things that have made me cry.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1339906730876546967</id><published>2009-06-01T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T20:16:19.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, It's Been A While.</title><content type='html'>So, It's been about 3 months. I actually managed to completely forget about this blog until people started putting links in their MSN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recap of the last three months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Star Trek XI came out. Seen it three times. Want to see it more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Turned 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Graduated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Been unbelievably stressed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- IB tests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Prepping for Comic-con by cramming as much Comic knowledge as I can into my head by July 22.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Can't wait for Comic-con.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Swimming every day for over a week now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really too exciting. Definitely nothing to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1339906730876546967?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1339906730876546967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1339906730876546967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1339906730876546967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1339906730876546967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/06/wow-its-been-while.html' title='Wow, It&apos;s Been A While.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2891672687591836690</id><published>2009-02-15T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T13:03:11.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombie Dream</title><content type='html'>A new one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It started with basically the cast of SGA, as well as 13 from house and other random people stuck on this deserted island, and they had to make it alone, so they built houses and things like that. Had dogs, got over it. McKay started his science experiments again. Yadda yadda yadda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day about six months after everything got settled, 13 was talking to this other girl (who had been sick for a while) about how the other girl had been acting a bit strange at a few moments, but at other times she acted perfectly normal. The other girl just shrugged and 13 pulled down the collar of her shirt to show this huge gash on her neck that was obviously from someone biting her. Apparently the other girl bit her when they were having sex on the beach (*shrug*) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They didn't tell anybody, but soon the other girl just went bezerk and bit someone else. and apparently that as the third person they had bit, which caused Elizabeth (SGA character for people who don't know) to worry and inform Sheppard. They captured this girl who was rampaging before she bit any more people as well as the people who had been bit and tied them to this post thing by the beach. Except as they were tying the girl who had rampaged she screamed No and ran out into the ocean (everyone assumed she just died)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beckett and McKay started to run studies on the people who had been bit as they started to go berserk again, and essentially conclude that they were all zombies. yeah, that was bad. though other than testing as long as no one but the guards went anywhere near the zombies their lives went on as normal, so whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day something washed up on shore, and the guards went to check it out. It turns out that, oops, it was the original woman who turned into a Zombie, and yeah, she was still Alive. the first thing she did was maul one of the guards then she released the other zombies who were still tied up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I came in, and also proves that I've been playing too much WoW. I somehow figured out that the zombies were running amok (as the zombies are slow, and the ocean was a good 20 miles from the mail encampment) and talked to Elizabeth, McKay, and Sheppard about it. We decided that we couldn't tell anyone else about it and just boosted the work on the project to try to fix them. Elizabeth injected her dog so she could study it better, but that turned out to be her death. So my suggestion was that we should hop on our flying mounts (yeah... WoW) and try to get as far away as we could. McKay is paranoid but then reveals that he knows how to get to basically the real world, cities, many people, the works, and he knows this family that should be able to help us, but that's a last resort. So Sheppard, McKay and I leave once the Zombie apocalypses hits and we fly to this house that's basically 3 miles from the freeway that leads to a city that looks like LA. At the house there is this black family who are really awesome, as well as a few other people, and Nikki. We all try to work on figuring this out, but aren't as rushed as apparently there had been no outbreak or anything like that in the populated world. But one day McKay starts acting strange around this other guy and brings it up to Sheppard and Myself that he things this guy might be infected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day all hell breaks lose at the house, and unfortunately we lose McKay (apparently he had been bit a few weeks back). But he tells us that the people still retain some of the identity, and then he gives us these nerf gun looking things filled with this liquid that will apparently stop the zombies, get them to come to their senses for a little bit, get us enough time to run away. So Sheppard Nikki and I are the only ones that manage to get away (I, unfortunately didn't have my phone or any shoes, that sucked)and we got down to the Freeway, trying to get to the city where there might be some help, or at least some more guns. The nerf guns that McKay gave us were working pretty well and once the people came back to their senses, they just kinda died. One wave was dead, then we saw people driving in cars (pricks didn't pick us up though... don't blame them). The Next Wave came and so we used our nerf squirt guns again to shoot them. The first four people being Michelle, Paige, Lance and some really hot blonde dude. These  four regained their senses but amazingly didn't die, so we got new friends, but then on the next wave the nerf guns stopped working, just fazed the zombies (well. shit). Unfortunately, Lance started to go Berserk again, and was surprisingly strong. For Sheppard, The blonde guy, myself and Nikki to get away Paige and Michelle sacrificed themselves so we could get back to the highway (as we were at this random house). the four of us make it to the city, then we lost Nikki somehow, and we got into this house with building with zombies chasing us. there was this one level where it was a hole in the wall, the stairs up, another hole in the wall then the stairs we just walked up (trying to get to the top, as apparently this building would help us, so says the Blonde guy) and so to keep from being killed by the zombies we dived into the holes in the wall, which were apparently water that the zombies couldn't get into (as they passed us running up the stairs,) and I'm not exactly sure why the water didn't flow out of the holes. But the three of us got out the holes and apparently the Hot blonde dude was a doctor that was researching this before he kinda turned into a zombie, and these people in hazmat suits came up behind Sheppard and I and sedated us, then it was black out, being tied to a chair and injected with something to prevent us from turning into a zombie (I assume), blackout, and wake up in a lab. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2891672687591836690?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2891672687591836690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2891672687591836690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2891672687591836690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2891672687591836690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/02/zombie-dream.html' title='Zombie Dream'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8372155965002520672</id><published>2009-02-10T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T23:10:23.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>F My Life</title><content type='html'>Great Website, first of all &lt;br /&gt;www.fmylife.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the posts was this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Today, my girlfriend dumped me proclaiming she wanted someone more like her "Edward". I asked her who Edward was. She held up a copy her "Twilight" book. She was talking about a fictional vampire. FML&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it got  "I agree, your life is f***ed" 13043. I agree completely. just... how, what, why, who is that STUPID... Ugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been sick for the past few days, my head is gonna explode soon, and I realized that I have so much shit due soon (Tests, art workbook that was due on Monday that I forgot about, essays, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8372155965002520672?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8372155965002520672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8372155965002520672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8372155965002520672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8372155965002520672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/02/f-my-life.html' title='F My Life'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1868288601595622901</id><published>2009-02-08T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:02:36.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmmm</title><content type='html'>I needa post more I guess... I've felt nauseous(which I'll never be able to spell right) for the past... oh 6 or so days. And I've finally caught that cold that my parents have had. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WoW has stolen my soul, It really is quite a shame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Hate school, needa throw a coup in Reti's Class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Story of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had some talents. I feel useless again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than some illness, and some stupid school teachers, I'm actually quite happy, regardless of how angsty this post appeared to be. Whooda thunk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SY-OZuA15qI/AAAAAAAAAPY/l1LnWsUxwRc/s1600-h/saseigethree21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SY-OZuA15qI/AAAAAAAAAPY/l1LnWsUxwRc/s400/saseigethree21.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300611858937800354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random picture of Beckett, for whom I have cried MANLY TEARS (which is a lie, I did tear up a bit though.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1868288601595622901?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1868288601595622901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1868288601595622901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1868288601595622901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1868288601595622901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/02/hmmmm.html' title='Hmmmm'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SY-OZuA15qI/AAAAAAAAAPY/l1LnWsUxwRc/s72-c/saseigethree21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2562259580816065243</id><published>2009-01-19T21:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:15:38.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A response from Reti</title><content type='html'>I messaged Reti to ask him to change my internal assessment topic, and this is the reply I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Dear Sara: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack the Ripper sounds pretty lurid, exciting, and, no doubt, there are many history channel specials with accompanying websites that will be quite helpful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, go ahead, althought it is not exactly a bright and cheerful topic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely yours,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steven Reti &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Very Reti Response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2562259580816065243?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2562259580816065243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2562259580816065243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2562259580816065243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2562259580816065243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/01/response-from-reti.html' title='A response from Reti'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1119254677293681519</id><published>2009-01-12T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T23:10:24.608-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year, School, and Last year in a REALLY Lazy Review.</title><content type='html'>Well, Let's kick this off by saying Happy Belated New year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 2009, 9 is my favorite number, let's hope that means this year is much better than 07 or 08, which both sucked balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School, I didn't miss it, Not gonna delve into much detail there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now 2008:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were good times, there were bad times, school sucked, friends rocked, parties were had, we lost some good people and I still can't sew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there we have it. I told you it was gonna be a REALLY lazy review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my friends: Love ya all, hope this year is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFTBA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1119254677293681519?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1119254677293681519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1119254677293681519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1119254677293681519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1119254677293681519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-school-and-last-year-in-really.html' title='New Year, School, and Last year in a REALLY Lazy Review.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1116450949120353225</id><published>2008-12-27T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T23:05:12.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Talk, Persona-ing</title><content type='html'>Seriously, got this game for Christmas and have played for 30 hours within the past 3 days, Once I get time I'll write a description, plot, characters, pictures, fun random facts, and such such for the game, as it's awesome :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mainly doing this so I could update quotes and inform everyone that "For The Evulz" Is my new favorite term ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QUOTES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There are two great rules of life: never tell everything at once"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A little learning is a dangerous thing, but a lot of ignorance is just as bad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you could say it in words there would be no reason to paint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1116450949120353225?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1116450949120353225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1116450949120353225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1116450949120353225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1116450949120353225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/cant-talk-persona-ing.html' title='Can&apos;t Talk, Persona-ing'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7112477214143088690</id><published>2008-12-24T22:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T22:37:52.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...</title><content type='html'>Nothing Really new here. Had our Christmas Dinner on Christmas Eve because my mom has to work at around noon tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody brought up a good point... It just doesn't FEEL like Christmas, and we can't seem to place why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally around Christmas I'm giddy as soon as the tree is up, that didn't happen this year, and it's now Christmas Eve, and I still don't feel it. I mean, I'm excited, but I don't feel like I should be excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kinda aggravating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Christmas Eve&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7112477214143088690?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7112477214143088690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7112477214143088690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7112477214143088690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7112477214143088690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html' title='It&apos;s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7459264526939430590</id><published>2008-12-23T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T20:39:55.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve Eve</title><content type='html'>Basically... I have nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was gonna write about a zombie dream I had a while ago, but I'm too caught up in watching Stargate: Atlantis, and it's been so long that the dream is a bit fuzzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two days? One day? I'm not sure. whatever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7459264526939430590?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7459264526939430590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7459264526939430590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7459264526939430590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7459264526939430590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve Eve'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6783069637095193050</id><published>2008-12-22T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T22:49:04.179-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombies</title><content type='html'>First of all, I've decided to have a post a day until Christmas, mainly because I can't think of anything better to do with my vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I watched Resident Evil: Degeneration last night (which is strange, as it was in English, and it's not released in English until the 27th... ah well, the wonders of youtube) I've been thinking about things regarding zombie defense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd have to say, that if I was stuck in a common house, and had any room to hide in and fend off from zombies, it would have to be the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;Reasons Why The Bathroom is Epic:&lt;br /&gt;---There are always locks on bathroom doors... Already a good sign.&lt;br /&gt;---Running Water&lt;br /&gt;---If the running water gets cut off, you can always drink the water from the back of the toilet, or something like that. Might be gross, but you won't die of dehydration.&lt;br /&gt;---You can fill up the tub and dump things like bath soaps and things to mask your scent if thats how the zombies are gonna find you.&lt;br /&gt;---There are always random tools in the bathroom, you never know what would be good for fighting or stabbing a zombie hand that might appear in the doorways. Perhaps shards of glass attached to a plunger.&lt;br /&gt;---You can use towels to block the cracks in the door.&lt;br /&gt;---The windows in bathrooms are almost always tiny tiny tiny, and up high. So if a zombie happened to get to the window, there would be no way it'd get through.&lt;br /&gt;---You could eat the toothpaste, It wouldn't be very pleasant, but at least you wouldn't die of starvation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I'd say the bathroom would be the place to be. Donno, that might just be me though. It'd all really depend on how long it took for the invasion to be stopped, as that is opportune for waiting it out, not fighting to safety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;3 days (well, actually two, but I'm doing math, not logic. 25-22=3)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6783069637095193050?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6783069637095193050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6783069637095193050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6783069637095193050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6783069637095193050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/zombies.html' title='Zombies'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7459168750587890037</id><published>2008-12-21T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T00:08:50.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*sob*</title><content type='html'>http://www.firstshowing.net/2008/12/17/&lt;br /&gt;keanu-reeves-confirms-live-action-cowboy-bebop-involvement/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna have to fix that link... Now I cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY ANIME&lt;br /&gt;WHY ARE THEY DESTROYING MY ANIMES&lt;br /&gt;I KNEW IT&lt;br /&gt;I KNEW THEY WERE COMING FOR THE ANIME&lt;br /&gt;IT WAS EITHER THAT OR THE VIDEOGAMES&lt;br /&gt;WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY&lt;br /&gt;YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY&lt;br /&gt;YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY&lt;br /&gt;YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY&lt;br /&gt;YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY&lt;br /&gt;YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY &lt;br /&gt;YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me as I go kill myself... I mean, rumors of a Devil May Cry movie, the Dragonball Movie, I... I... I just can't take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GET SOME ORIGINAL IDEA HOLLYWOOD BEFORE I COME BEAT YO' ASSES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-*sobs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go drown myself in chocolate. 4 days until Christmas,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7459168750587890037?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7459168750587890037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7459168750587890037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7459168750587890037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7459168750587890037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/sob.html' title='*sob*'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3093647475911419466</id><published>2008-12-20T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T23:31:03.832-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Dream and 5 Days 'Til Christmas</title><content type='html'>Well, Let's start with Woody's Response for my dream, and then I'll have her tl;dr at the bottom for people who are lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody says:&lt;br /&gt;Dude, that's crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Really, one of these days, you and me, we're doin' an experiment.&lt;br /&gt;Every time you have a dream I'm making you write the damn thing out in excruciating detail...&lt;br /&gt;And then, we try to write something from it.&lt;br /&gt;Really, your subconscious could be worth millions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now my dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets see... we were in 10th grade, then I got cryogenically frozen for 6 years and when I woke up, we were in 12th grade (the fail in that math astounded me, but I had a BRILLIANT explanation in my dream) Also, I should mention. Even though we were in 12th grade, we looked like we were in our early twenties. like it really had been 6 years. &lt;br /&gt;When I got out, I walked out into a McDonalds where everyone was sitting at a Giant table, and I just joined in after explaining the 6 year thing, and re-greeting everyone like I'd only been gone for a day. instead of the school (well,the village was there) we went to school in this giant boarding school institute thing... and right outside my room there's this Giant pendulum, with it's period &lt;br /&gt;being a tick every second, so I sat and just watched it for about 5 or so hours. counting ticks on this ornate giant amazing looking pendulum that powered a giant clock.... &lt;br /&gt;then we had classes, and the entire circle that's in IB was in Dr. Reti's at the same time, and I'm standing by the door talking to like 4 people (don't remember who, other than Margarita) and ranting about how I shouldn't be in the 12th grade, I may be the right age, but i didn't learn anything or what not. But apparently I had all the credits and was perfectly fine in the institute and subconsciously knew everything&lt;br /&gt;then Reti started singing to Margarita to the tune of a Barenaked Ladies song titled 'Raisins' (great song, by the way) about how she's too anal and puts too much effort into shit, and then i woke up.&lt;br /&gt;also, i should mention. Even though we were in 12th grade, we looked like we were in our early twenties. like it really had been 6 years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For about an hour after I woke up from that dream I worried about being Cryogenically frozen, as if it had really happend. I was FREAKING OUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Woody's TL;DR (which is, To Long; Didn't Read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody says:&lt;br /&gt;So, tl;dr: Cryogenically frozen for 6 years in some sort of time slip where only two years had actually passed though everyone had also aged 6 years, we have class in a giant building and Reti sings to margarita about how she tries too hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needa get a notebook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 5 days until Christmas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3093647475911419466?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3093647475911419466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3093647475911419466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3093647475911419466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3093647475911419466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-dream-and-5-days-til-christmas.html' title='Another Dream and 5 Days &apos;Til Christmas'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-715497851255457207</id><published>2008-12-15T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T22:17:17.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun times and John Sheppard(Joe Flanigan)</title><content type='html'>Random Conversation with Woody about Finals:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara/Thatz says:&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how long our spanish test is going to bed&lt;br /&gt;Woody - Physics. Not just a good idea. It's the law. says:&lt;br /&gt;Well, if it's gettin' it on with your Physics test I wouldn't hold your breath on that one...&lt;br /&gt;Sara/Thatz says:&lt;br /&gt;alright, I'll give you that one, very good&lt;br /&gt;Woody - Physics. Not just a good idea. It's the law. says:&lt;br /&gt;Score!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And A few pictures of the amazing Joe Flanigan, who plays John Sheppard on Stargate Atlantis. Stupid Woody, getting me addicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah, I love his ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nqon8iI/AAAAAAAAAOo/6-0yDXka0Vc/s1600-h/still1219270574.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nqon8iI/AAAAAAAAAOo/6-0yDXka0Vc/s400/still1219270574.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280249143202673186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nhPtcEI/AAAAAAAAAOg/Hd8TWS8oD4c/s1600-h/joe21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 366px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nhPtcEI/AAAAAAAAAOg/Hd8TWS8oD4c/s400/joe21.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280249140682256450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2neWfAqI/AAAAAAAAAOY/BQLx40ka9no/s1600-h/harry8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2neWfAqI/AAAAAAAAAOY/BQLx40ka9no/s400/harry8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280249139905364642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nXYfk5I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/2uLvNoGhviA/s1600-h/00056s7t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nXYfk5I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/2uLvNoGhviA/s400/00056s7t.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280249138034742162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bare Feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nHGeH6I/AAAAAAAAAOI/8E3x2d9XP6s/s1600-h/503sheppard-profile.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nHGeH6I/AAAAAAAAAOI/8E3x2d9XP6s/s400/503sheppard-profile.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280249133664182178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-715497851255457207?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/715497851255457207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=715497851255457207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/715497851255457207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/715497851255457207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/fun-times-and-john-sheppardjoe-flanigan.html' title='Fun times and John Sheppard(Joe Flanigan)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SUc2nqon8iI/AAAAAAAAAOo/6-0yDXka0Vc/s72-c/still1219270574.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2634303450007073693</id><published>2008-12-05T22:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T23:04:58.581-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I Worry</title><content type='html'>I worry about the fact that I don't have any talents, that everyone is better and smarter than me. People can play instruments, people can write, people can draw, people can sew and create, people can simply understand thinks much better than I can. This is something that I think about a lot, which sucks, but I've learned not to care as much because maybe something will magically happen later on in life and I'll be able to do something useful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, I must say I'm Very VERY thankful to Stephanie Mayer. Without her I wouldn't have any proof that people suck more than I do. I read two paragraphs from Twilight and then I think "Man, if she could somehow make it with that HORRID writing style, perhaps there's luck for me yet." I don't honestly know how she did that, perhaps she is Satan and used mind control to make her book popular. Or perhaps people these days are really just that stupid, who knows. I have now used the word 'perhaps' wayyyy to many times in this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank YOU Ms. Mayer, Your failure is great hope for people like me. *Salute*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes from last time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know his Batman too. It’s so much nicer than mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Men are born into this world, Ayakashi simply come into being. If birth and being are accompanied by Truth and Regret, they gain a form. If they gain a Form, they become a Mononoke, which should not exist. We cannot eradicate the Mononoke. However, we can purify them, and put them to rest. And so, there must be a sword, and hands in which it might rest. My friends, let me ask you of your Truth and Regret. So long as Mononoke roam this world..." (Final quote from Mononoke, it's kinda sketchy if you've never seen it...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2634303450007073693?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2634303450007073693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2634303450007073693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2634303450007073693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2634303450007073693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes-i-worry.html' title='Sometimes I Worry'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2109749849991178343</id><published>2008-12-03T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T17:04:12.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="464" height="388" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="key=c0cf508ff8" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;embed width="464" height="388" flashvars="key=c0cf508ff8" allowfullscreen="true" quality="high" src="http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="text-align:center;width: 464px;"&gt;See more &lt;a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/jackblack"&gt;Jack Black&lt;/a&gt; videos at Funny or Die&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is amazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, new quotes eventually, haven't found any amazing ones lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2109749849991178343?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2109749849991178343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2109749849991178343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2109749849991178343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2109749849991178343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/12/see-more-jack-black-videos-at-funny-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4592408796822867002</id><published>2008-11-26T00:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:11:16.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh, It's my 50th Blog</title><content type='html'>Didn't even realize that until I logged in. Ah well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I decided I wanted to write something, but I didn't know what. So I just kinda wrote and this is what came out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       “I mean really, Al. I just don’t think that a story about vampires who fend off a zombie invasion is appropriate for children between the ages three and seven.”&lt;br /&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;       “How about Vikings then? The mysterious group from the north who travels south along rivers, using arrows to fend off the zombies and pick up any survivors. What small child wouldn’t want to be a Viking! Besides, you’re just the illustrator, what do you know?” Al tried again, he was a bit tired of writing about happiness and sunshine and little girls who lost their ways. When he was a small child he wanted to hear about heroes and adventure. Children stories really are directed more towards women.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;       “I’m more inclined to agree with Nero, It’s not about what the kids want to read, it’s about what the parents want their children to read. Just stick to the sole hero and damsel in distress types.” Jennifer, their editor and manager, lectured while pushing away from the table. This brainstorming session wasn’t going very well, “I know you just released a new story a month ago,” she accentuated this point by tossing said story on the table, “and your new one isn’t due for another few months, but could we at least agree on an idea today?” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;       Al looked at their story, this being the first time he’d seen the book in actual print, and laughed at the things he could pull out of his head. The cover of the children’s book read ‘Hubert the Porcupine’s Journey Home. Author: Alpha Paterson. Illustrator: Nero Conrad’ and had an interesting picture of an overly enthusiastic porcupine with bright orange baseball cap on it.  Al stopped laughing and sneered, “Jennifer, I thought I told you not to put my full name on it.” He absolutely hated when people called him Alpha. His mother had it in her head that because his last name was so common, he needed a highly unusual first name. Sometimes he wondered about that woman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michelle suggests I go somewhere with this... I might, maybe, I have some plot in my head and I guess my mind will just kinda take me there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the quote function for some reason. I'm also annoyed by the lack of indents in the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is solely for my own purpose. Needa remember the full names I chose.&lt;br /&gt;Nero Vincent Conrad&lt;br /&gt;Alpha Elliott Paterson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4592408796822867002?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4592408796822867002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4592408796822867002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4592408796822867002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4592408796822867002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/11/huh-its-my-50th-blog.html' title='Huh, It&apos;s my 50th Blog'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-9186948866262585438</id><published>2008-11-19T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T20:50:32.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Gonna be Conformist! And WeepingCock</title><content type='html'>So, everyone else is posting these meme things in their blogs, why not myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you trust Nikki?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, More than anything....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Woody is actually Autumn in disguise, you know.&lt;br /&gt;That's not a question, and I'd be amazed if Autumn could disguise herself as Woody... Woody's absolutely tiny... I think the only person who would be able to do that would be a female Dakota...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Is Michelle your best friend?&lt;br /&gt;One of them :D She's amazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do you think Autumn is a virgin?&lt;br /&gt;Interesting question... and Yes, Yes I do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What if you found out that Caitlin was secretly an alien plotting to take over the world together with Woody?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I personally think Caitlin and Woody would try to kill each other over who has the most power, or not team up at all... So I'd be really surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If Grace and Woody were locked in the same (really small) room for longer than a day, what would most likely happen?&lt;br /&gt;Honestly? I don't think much would happen, they'd probably be stir crazy but mostly talk about anime and such...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Who would be a better superhero sidekick between Paige and Autumn, and why? &lt;br /&gt;Paige, She's more logical, could probably keep me from killing myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Super fun fun adventure amusement park marathon with you, Jew and Autumn! How will it go?&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely amazing, also, that question was WAY to happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Who would be a better superhero sidekick between Vinny and Paige, and why?&lt;br /&gt;This again? Vinny, because he has a Penis (sorry Paige)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What do you think about Canada?&lt;br /&gt;One word: Epic&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let's rant about Weeping Cock. which is a community on Livejournal... I have to say, it's one of the funniest communities that I've ever been on, but people would just have to check it out for themselves to understand... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://community.livejournal.com/weepingcock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't practice polygamy, we practice serial monogamy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Knowing you'll die someday gives you the courage to live your own life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Embrace nothing:&lt;br /&gt;If you meet the Buddha, Kill the Buddha.&lt;br /&gt;If you meet your father, kill your father.&lt;br /&gt;Only live your life as it is,&lt;br /&gt;Not bound to anything."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-9186948866262585438?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/9186948866262585438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=9186948866262585438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9186948866262585438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9186948866262585438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-gonna-be-conformist-and-weepingcock.html' title='I&apos;m Gonna be Conformist! And WeepingCock'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2462778758236304085</id><published>2008-11-16T22:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T17:13:23.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It appears this is going to be a month of quotes.</title><content type='html'>Next ACTUAL post I'll go ahead and change the quotes of the week, but I need to save this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Hateful feelings. Hurtful feelings. Unforgivable feelings. To face ones own feelings is akin to throwing oneself into a bottomless pit, or setting sail on an endless sea. You must not look there. You must not think about it. Though you search your soul on the dark, heaving waves, you must never look in that place. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Feelings and memories... They exist only within my heart.Though we may pass the same time, or see the same sights, what we hold within our hearts can never be the same. your face, your voice, the image of you, which exists only within me... Who are you?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Mononoke. Which is absolutely amazing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2462778758236304085?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2462778758236304085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2462778758236304085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2462778758236304085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2462778758236304085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-appears-this-is-going-to-be-month-of.html' title='It appears this is going to be a month of quotes.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4453645312176644270</id><published>2008-11-11T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T20:28:36.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I believe my dreams should be movies...</title><content type='html'>So I had another zombie dream last night, but this time it wasn't completely ridiculous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: most of this will be copypasta from MSN conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started out very randomly, a good portion of the circle and a girl from my anime club, and some other random people were just chillaxing, and suddenly a cop busts in and tell us to run, and so we start running and we come to this parking lot filled with buses, double decker buses, and we get into it, the cop driving (this cop is very hot, and very important.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're driving past and over zombies scattered on the road, but most are inside buildings and for some reason to get out of each building all the zombies in there are trying to press up against the left (their left,) sides of the glass walls, so we see their silhouettes, and I made the comment about how the zombies sure loved the left sides of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then some thing happened and we were running running running though a field, some reason the bus toppled over or something and we come up to this huge mansion. we run into the mansion and see people running the other way (not a good thing) but for some reason I have hairspray and a match (that never goes out...), and am going first just in case, and we see these dudes with more contraptions kinda like what I have (they kinda look like those air blower computer cleaner things, but spit fire) and i traded mine with one of them, and we continued, with a few more of those fire torch things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the point where we're trapped against the wall just fighting the Zombies off with fire (we were separated from the cop a bit back) and suddenly the cop comes running to us from the side, and says he can help us get out of here, because its his mansion, (rich cop...) so we run past the zombies, unfortunately  not all of us made it, (there were 5 of us, me, Grace, the cop, Issac and one other person that made it) and we start jumping over these wire tube things in the ground, and the cop lifts up one wire tube thing thats hanging from the ceiling to open this back door (that for some reason can't be closed again, but we went though a large bolted door earlier that we did close) and we got to this large, kinda greenhouse area that was filled with busses, cars, vans, police trucks and everything. There was a plane there but then there was an entire conversation about how its broken and wouldn't be much use and back story back story back story that i don't remember that revolved around when the cop was a kid (it kinda looked like the enterprise...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so suddenly we hear this crackling buzzing things, and thats the wire tubing going off (mind you, this greenhouse is two stories, we're on the bottom of it, but we're still on like, the 2nd story of mansion) and the cop yells at us to get into this one cop car thats like, uber tricked out in bars and protection and we wonder why. well, apparently there are two entrances and the wire tubes were mouse traps, but the fact that they were going off meant the zombies got it, and sure enough, they were starting to pile down the stairs. so we got in, The cop driving, me in the middle back with Grace and Issac next to me, and the other random person in the passenger seat. The cop tells us to buckle up and prepare as we drive through the zombies and out into this outside parking garage type thing, he tells us that the car is made for this type of thing and drives off the roof of the parking garage onto the street onto the freeway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we drive for a while to get to a place near the ocean, where the people seem ignorant of the zombies that are obviously approaching, and are preparing for a 'barbie speed boat ride' so as the zombies approach, we jump into the boat, along with some other people, unfortunately Grace and the other person get detained for some reason, so its just like, 5 random people, Issac, me and the cop (the three of us in the very back row of the very bright pink boat) and the zombies are approaching. We force them to take off as Issac and I get grabbed by zombies off the pier, I was got back first, followed by Issac. we go for about 20 minutes and i see that Issac looks a little off, and I think he got bit by the zombies as hes cut by his eye, so I tell him I'm sorry and push him off the boat.(by the way, this entire time, we'd been in Europe...) and we amazingly have enough gas to get all the way to the US, which isn't infected, though some of the ladies on the boat are convinced I'm infected (but I'm not, though part of my hair had been ripped out,) and it ends up that something strange happened to the speedboat and the cop and I got launched out, into the ocean(but still rather close to land) as the speedboat took out into the ocean, and blew up (apparently one of the OTHER ladies had been turned into a zombie, so the driver took off the sacrifice themselves so the US didn't get infected) and then I woke up with just the cop and I treading water.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, My dreams are always a bit weird, but why was Issac in my dream was the real question? Oh well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4453645312176644270?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4453645312176644270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4453645312176644270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4453645312176644270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4453645312176644270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/11/sometimes-i-believe-my-dreams-should-be.html' title='Sometimes I believe my dreams should be movies...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-9021959517569179018</id><published>2008-11-10T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T23:25:30.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Incredible Edible Anus!</title><content type='html'>Theres... Not much to say about this, just follow the link, and don't forget to click limited edition!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.edibleanus.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why 4chan is amazing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-9021959517569179018?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/9021959517569179018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=9021959517569179018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9021959517569179018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9021959517569179018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/11/incredible-edible-anus.html' title='The Incredible Edible Anus!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8215284778136956684</id><published>2008-11-06T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T21:15:04.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sara On Prop 8, For everyone who doesn't already know.</title><content type='html'>Now, let must just start this off with this, as I feel as if I need to clarify it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Just because I am against Prop 8(pro Gay marriage) does NOT mean I am gay.&lt;/span&gt; Sorry, But I like Penis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahem... Now that I got that over with, let me start by saying how disappointed I am with society, even more so than usual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you people who are for prop 8, I want you to think of what would happen if the best friend you ever had came out to you, could you honestly go up to them and say, "Sorry, But I don't think you should have the right to get married, I don't think you deserve the right that everyone on this planet should have. Therefor, denying this right to you implies that I think you are less of a human than I am"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thats what voting yes on prop 8 is, the people who believe this honestly believe that Gay people are less human than straight people, just like long ago when we thought that only white men were human, and the rest of the world was just worthless scum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of a gay person you know, don't they get sick just like we do, don't they think about things? Don't they get sad, happy, angry, excited, JUST LIKE US? Their hearts beat, blood runs through their veins, they move around, they need to sleep, drink, eat and breath to survive. These people are humans, and they laugh and learn and LOVE, and just because they love a different way than straight people doesn't mean they are inhuman. They are not on some lower spectrum than that of the straight people. And when I actually think about it, The straight people that I know are more of scum than the amazing and wonderful gay people that I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years ago we didn't think there should be interracial marriage, I feel like this is basically to the same extent. We're segregating people from human rights just because they choose to love someone different than the major population, This is just not right. But, we've come so far from where we were with civil rights for the blacks, and showing that prop 8 passed by such a small margin is a good sign. The youth of today is much more Liberal, they are encouraged to think for themselves, instead of mindlessly following their parents. Hopefully we can actually progress to the point where all people will be equal, though I highly doubt it, as I feel if it would be go to quote the song "Everyone's a little bit racist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lost faith in a lot of people now, and a lot of people have earned my respect of the topic. Someone who I thought would never be against it turned out to be as much against it as I am, and I now respect him a great deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my mother and I were talking about it, "This is something we just can't let go, we have to fight it, we can't remove these peoples rights, I think you're right Sara (referring to an earlier conversation we had that will be elaborated on.) marriage should be abolished entirely, everyone should just have civil partnerships," that way no one would rant about the religious connotations, and everyone could be truly equal in this sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only way prop 8 should have been truly legitimate is that if we added clauses to it that if a person got divorced, they weren't allowed to remarry, and that only people of a Christian and Catholic background should be allowed to marry, that would be the only way to protect &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;traditional&lt;/span&gt; marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically what I'm trying to say, in rather blunt and rude words is: If you vote yes on 8, you're a complete and utter douchebag and I don't feel as if you deserve the right to be a human, if you feel as you're better than all these other perfectly nice and respectful citizens, and definitely don't deserve the right to vote, you filthy and pathetic scum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A very angry giving of Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes of the week from a while ago:&lt;br /&gt;-Like A Bolt From The Blue! It's Time For The Reaper Review!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The obscure we see eventually. The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Alice came to a fork in the road. "Which road do I take?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Where do you want to go?" responded the Cheshire cat.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know," Alice answered.&lt;br /&gt;"Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8215284778136956684?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8215284778136956684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8215284778136956684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8215284778136956684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8215284778136956684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/11/sara-on-prop-8-for-everyone-who-doesnt.html' title='Sara On Prop 8, For everyone who doesn&apos;t already know.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8566833372446987018</id><published>2008-10-25T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T20:15:42.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enter Witty Title Here</title><content type='html'>Well, theres been a lot going on, a lot of things to do, a lot of people to see... Ani-magic(autumn Dream now), school, reading a lot, and then club meetings. So I haven't got the time or the real thought process to post much, But as I'm playing The world ends with you I wanna post this quote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;To right the countless wrongs of our day, we shine the light of true redemption, that this place may become as paradise. What a wonderful world such would be...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, should update my quotes of the week, heh, Will do that next post&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8566833372446987018?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8566833372446987018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8566833372446987018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8566833372446987018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8566833372446987018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/10/enter-witty-title-here.html' title='Enter Witty Title Here'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6618835829900419283</id><published>2008-10-14T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T21:40:10.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zetta GRR, Reaper Wings are Complicated</title><content type='html'>So, basically this is just so I can store the pictures and log of my progress on my Wings. They're bugging me right now. been working on them since 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTouDz4I/AAAAAAAAAMo/E4HdFVrtaQk/s1600-h/IMG_0373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTouDz4I/AAAAAAAAAMo/E4HdFVrtaQk/s400/IMG_0373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257234921210236802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yay for initial design, I had to make it myself, took me an hour and a half for my anal self to get it sort of alright...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTy4Vx1I/AAAAAAAAAM4/UKuysnW-8Xc/s1600-h/IMG_0376.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTy4Vx1I/AAAAAAAAAM4/UKuysnW-8Xc/s400/IMG_0376.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257234923937711954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pattern traced onto my craft foam, took 5 pieces of 12x18 pieces for it to actually fit on there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTjBSjsI/AAAAAAAAAMw/5QzDmpYfmHA/s1600-h/IMG_0375.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTjBSjsI/AAAAAAAAAMw/5QzDmpYfmHA/s400/IMG_0375.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257234919680282306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut out, So far so good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now! Heres where the hard part comes in... Getting the wings to be structurally sound, and this is the part thats PISSING ME OFF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzUHExibI/AAAAAAAAANI/SR8u8634H7c/s1600-h/IMG_0378.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzUHExibI/AAAAAAAAANI/SR8u8634H7c/s400/IMG_0378.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257234929358571954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Current kitchen table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzUHiSWMI/AAAAAAAAANA/iyLUb0q8Kjw/s1600-h/IMG_0377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzUHiSWMI/AAAAAAAAANA/iyLUb0q8Kjw/s400/IMG_0377.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257234929482356930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;better view on the actual project, letting the shit dry. hope this works!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6618835829900419283?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6618835829900419283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6618835829900419283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6618835829900419283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6618835829900419283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/10/zetta-grr-reaper-wings-are-complicated.html' title='Zetta GRR, Reaper Wings are Complicated'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPVzTouDz4I/AAAAAAAAAMo/E4HdFVrtaQk/s72-c/IMG_0373.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6813123012638378358</id><published>2008-10-13T00:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T00:16:39.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm? Why, hello! This mic is zetta sexy!</title><content type='html'>Quote in title by Minamimoto. Pic Below. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPL0VHr770I/AAAAAAAAAMY/cwwEsLu7rGQ/s1600-h/1210717321082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPL0VHr770I/AAAAAAAAAMY/cwwEsLu7rGQ/s400/1210717321082.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256532358772551490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got that pic from 4chan, theres a link on the picture to the artist apparently, haven't gone there yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've recently become obsessed with the World Ends With You again. So I've started to replay the game. Decided I was gonna get 100% completion this time. Hope I can do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what got me TWEWY crazed again was the fact that I plan on being a standard wall reaper (forgot the technical term) for ani-magic, as it is one of the easiest cosplays on the face of this planet, and the con is on Saturday. For those who don't know, I'm working at the con as Staff along with Woody and Grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bit sad I don't have the actual designs for the wings, and I'm gonna have to draw and recreate them myself, poogas. I'll probably post pictures of the wings once I finish them on here. Gonna be awesome and make them out of craft foam heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 12:13 and I'm not tired at all, dammit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, nothing can truly express the deep and seething hatred I have for Twilight, but this comes pretty damn close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPL1yL5TWYI/AAAAAAAAAMg/SybRj_nnWFU/s1600-h/20080505.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPL1yL5TWYI/AAAAAAAAAMg/SybRj_nnWFU/s400/20080505.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256533957630187906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes of Last Week&lt;br /&gt;"Even if this life didn't have any meaning&lt;br /&gt;This world is a cultivation&lt;br /&gt;of paranoia and ego&lt;br /&gt;Instead of blooming a beautiful flower,&lt;br /&gt;We just want to end it drastically&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Someday, if you let go of this finger&lt;br /&gt;and desire for the distant sky,&lt;br /&gt;I'll kick your back and tell you laughingly,&lt;br /&gt;"Hurry up and go". "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"While stating that it's 'for someone'&lt;br /&gt;Everybody, for themselves,&lt;br /&gt;-- live...&lt;br /&gt;and die. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People don't want to be strong because they want to protect someone, It's because they don't want to die an unsightly death in front of their friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6813123012638378358?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6813123012638378358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6813123012638378358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6813123012638378358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6813123012638378358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/10/hmm-why-hello-this-mic-is-zetta-sexy.html' title='Hmm? Why, hello! This mic is zetta sexy!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SPL0VHr770I/AAAAAAAAAMY/cwwEsLu7rGQ/s72-c/1210717321082.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2094212832305876214</id><published>2008-10-08T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T00:27:45.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Kiddies, We're Growing Up.</title><content type='html'>Just think, We're in our Senior Year of high school, where we'll be finishing up our required learning, where we'll be having parties, going to graduation and ultimately leaving our friends that we spent the last few precious years of schooling getting to know and adore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think, Next year, we'll be legal (well, most of us), Able to vote, able to take care of ourselves, no longer needed to be tied to our families unless we want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Theres the issue of college, now that is something to ponder... There are many things that can happen in college.&lt;br /&gt;-You'll be away from your family in a dorm, never knowing the next time you'll see them again.&lt;br /&gt;-You'll have a roommate, more than likely someone you have never met before, and theres always the chance this person will be your complete opposite.&lt;br /&gt;-The more than likely chance that you'll have a job, having to balance your school life and your job so you'll be able to pay for your living.&lt;br /&gt;-Classes, and in these classes a whole slew of new people, professors, and no attendance requirements. &lt;br /&gt;-Then theres the people, people you'll have never met before staying in your classes, being an important part of your every day life. What will you do? Will you chose to make friends with these new people, will you go up and introduce yourself, or will you sit back in the class and let them come to you. Perhaps you will try to block off these new people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and before these college issues, theres the issue of getting into college, to applying, and the dread that most people face, thinking that they'll never get into college, no college wants them, and if they do get into a college it'll one you don't want to go to, none of your friends will be there, as they'll be off doing better things with their lives than hanging out at a lowly college. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be fears, there will be tough times, but everyone will make through it, though that is a very optimistic way of thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess all I'm trying to say is that, we're growing up, We're no longer going to be children, we'll be living, breathing, working(hopefully) adults. And we'll just see who will make it through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace, with 217 days left until I turn 18, how about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. It's Strange... I have thousands of pictures in my picture folder, yet none would properly express my mood at the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2094212832305876214?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2094212832305876214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2094212832305876214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2094212832305876214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2094212832305876214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/10/well-kiddies-were-growing-up.html' title='Well Kiddies, We&apos;re Growing Up.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-9132503669517780393</id><published>2008-10-05T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T19:55:19.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes of the Week.</title><content type='html'>Well, Life has been hectic and I have no real free time until November. Grandparents are here, my weekends are full, I have too many tests, Senior year sucks, Life has been a bit crappy... ya know, But we'll all live and somehow make it through it I guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the quotes of the week, as I haven't changed them in two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fools and smoke love high places. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For instance, if this place was&lt;br /&gt;at the bottom of the deep earth&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't have desired for the sun...&lt;br /&gt;-- For instance&lt;br /&gt;For instance if this place was at the bottom of the deep earth&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't have had to know about freedom nor loneliness."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-9132503669517780393?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/9132503669517780393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=9132503669517780393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9132503669517780393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9132503669517780393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/10/quotes-of-week.html' title='Quotes of the Week.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-977234347084049979</id><published>2008-09-28T01:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T01:45:25.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Dream a Dream part dos.</title><content type='html'>So, while doing my spanish essays, I decided it might be a bright idea to just translate a dream I had written down. So I used the dream from the post "to dream a dream" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It translated to this from Babel Fish....&lt;br /&gt;"Anoche (o esta mañana, mientras que me fui a la cama en el 2:30) tenía un sueño que conducía un microbus de VW con solamente un asiento (asiento de conductores), mientras que había dos hombres en el trasero teniendo sexo. Y para evitar un poli, como ellos weren' t me abrochó adentro fue derecho un camino en vez del torneado a la izquierda, sobre un camino llamado ' terror road' (guau… cómo hoja de metal). A este punto a tiempo los dos en la parte posterior habían parado su tiempo atractivo y se inclinaban sobre mi hombro, precisando yo fueron sobre un camino abandonado llamado ' terror road'. Realicé que esto era probablemente un error estúpido y veared del camino un pedacito así que podría dar vuelta alrededor. Los Gopher nos rodeamos repentinamente que eran al parecer hacia fuera conseguirnos, pero que era yo, no quiso dañar los Gopher. Intenté tan maniobrar alrededor de ellos, de que que conseguía solamente los tres de nosotros más lejos lejos del camino en el área del desierto. Los Gopher habían desaparecido, así que salimos del microbus y comenzamos a caminar, y repentinamente las ovejas comenzadas para venir en nosotros y para intentar atacarnos. I' m no sure cómo, solamente terminamos para arriba con las pipas y los palillos para defenderlos… de alguna manera de hacer nuestra manera hasta la tapa de la montaña donde estaba el coche de deportes dado vuelta microbus… Las ovejas guardaron el intentar hacer su manera encima de la montaña junto con dos otros individuos al azar. Guardamos el golpear de las ovejas del acantilado, ellas que morían una vez que golpearon la tierra, solamente más ovejas que aparecían, y los individuos que venían apagado nosotros golpearon apagado también, solamente ellos acaban de mantener el volverse estropeado y más zombi-como. En un punto a tiempo, al defender a partir del now zombi-como individuos mi teléfono celular consiguió realmente lanzado del acantilado también, estaba muy triste. Derrotamos de alguna manera todos, después los tres de nosotros consiguieron en el coche de deportes del now (yo que conduce otra vez, no sure porqué) y condujeron abajo de la colina (que asombrosamente didn' el daño de t el coche), en la parte inferior, todos los cadáveres parecía haber desaparecido y mi teléfono celular estaba allí. Lo cogí y estaba en condiciones perfectas, señal y todos… y entonces desperté."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then put that back into Freetranslation.com and it ended at this...&lt;br /&gt;"Last night (or this morning, while I went me to the bed in the 2:30) had a dream that conducted a microbus of VW with only a seat (driver's seat), while there were two men in the rear one having sex.  And to avoid a cop, like they weren' t clasped me inside was right a road instead of the turning to the left, on a called road 'terror road' (bow-wow… how leaf of metal).  To this point to time the two in the subsequent part had stopped their attractive time and they inclined on my shoulder, needing I they were on a road abandoned call 'terror road'.  I carried out that this was probably a stupid error and veared of the road a bit so would be able to give return around.  The Gopher we surround us suddenly that were apparently toward was to obtain us, but that was I, did not want to damage the Gopher.  I tried so to maneuver around them, that that obtained only the three of us further far from the road in the area of the desert.  The Gopher had disappeared, so we leave the microbus and we begin to walk, and suddenly the sheep begun to come in us and for try to attack us.  I 'm not sure how, only we finish for up with the pipes and the toothpicks to defend them… of some way to do our way to the cover of the mountain where was the return given sports car microbus… The sheep kept the to try to do their way over the mountain along with two other individuals at random.  We keep the to strike of the sheep of the cliff, they that morían once struck the land, only more sheep than appeared, and the individuals that came dull we struck dull also, only they have just maintained the to be returned damaged and more zombie-as.  In a point to time, upon defending from the now zombie-as individuals my cell phone obtained really launched of the cliff also, was very sad.  We defeat of some way all, later the three of us obtained in the car of sports of the now (I that conducts again, not sure reason) and they conducted below the hill (that amazingly didn' the damage of t the car), in the lower part, all the corpses seemed to have disappeared and my cell phone was there.  I caught him and was in perfect conditions, sign and all… and then I awoke."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nikki and I found this to be the funniest shit ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es Todo.&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-977234347084049979?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/977234347084049979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=977234347084049979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/977234347084049979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/977234347084049979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-dream-dream-part-dos.html' title='To Dream a Dream part dos.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1024765883888115100</id><published>2008-09-21T21:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T00:30:56.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Thought...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;For those who have read this already... Theres been an addition... Though I doubt many have read this as its been posted for like two hours... haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all... Ewww, two posts in one day, but I needa save this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The world has been decimated by a male-gender specific virus. All the men are dead or at least infertile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only woman remain. And humans have to reproduce using lab-assisted methods (one egg's nucleus implanted into another egg).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think the world will be like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My belief is that a subset of women will start taking on masculine traits. Wars, genocides will at first be reduced, but eventually be revamped to their previous level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that might be much decreased is rate of rape and sexual violence, especially in war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, rates of lying and theft will increase."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A post from /r9k/, which is a great place... like /b/ without the aids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found another post from /r9k/ from a thread about fantasies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My fiance and I tell little stories to each other all the time, about what things will be like when we're married and older and have children. Sort of a shared fantasy world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big beautiful house with blue shutters on the windows, and a skylight in the living room so we can lie in the blankets on the floor at night after sex and watch the stars. An apple tree in the backyard specifically designated for reading under - if anyone in the family is at that tree, they're to be left alone. Callers on the phone are told to call back later. A bed with curtains around it and a lot of pillows so we can make a fort. He'll go back to culinary school and we'll make elaborate meals together, and I'll bake desserts all the time. We'll always have homemade wines from his brother in the house, and we'll have a huge bathtub, the kind that's so big that it has a little set of steps going down into it, and we can spend all day in there drinking and listening to music. A balcony covered in plants - lots of herbs for the food we make. We'll stay up too late every night and fall asleep all over the house, and take turns making each other coffee in the morning. A typewriter in the bedroom (although we've decided there's no writing or reading in bed... because then we'd never get around to sex, it'd always be, "Let's bone!" "NO I'm finishing this chapter first.") Incense everywhere. Long curtains that blow around when the windows are open. A flat roof so we can sit up there and look around at the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know nobody's going to read this, or care, but sometimes, robots, you just need to think about the days beyond these, you know? Sometimes it's nice to tell a pretty story about when you won't have to struggle for money or deal with terrible situations. It's nice to look at someone you love and say, "Someday I won't ever have to fall asleep sad, because you will always be next to me." It's nice to believe in that. Just for a little bit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes you think a bit. I've never really thought of a true fantasy. Will have to think on it. Anyone have any real interesting ones? If I think of one that really sticks out. I'll post it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, An amusing video for people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3b1a92ec709b099" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D03b1a92ec709b099%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331257627%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DD2030C8BF02E7B6440120D3E36CD9EB29A1691E.74B4D879C9059F9EFE26C8F812540145A1EE0785%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b1a92ec709b099%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DGyblOwbAZDM-3WUdFWOUmKmEWkE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D03b1a92ec709b099%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331257627%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DD2030C8BF02E7B6440120D3E36CD9EB29A1691E.74B4D879C9059F9EFE26C8F812540145A1EE0785%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b1a92ec709b099%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DGyblOwbAZDM-3WUdFWOUmKmEWkE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1024765883888115100?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3b1a92ec709b099&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1024765883888115100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1024765883888115100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1024765883888115100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1024765883888115100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-thought.html' title='A Little Thought...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-2357357011977806995</id><published>2008-09-21T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T16:56:22.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're off to see the Wizard.</title><content type='html'>New Quotes of the Week. Previous Weeks at the Bottom of this Post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's a momentous day, as I have finally seen the Wizard of Oz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, it was a really Ridiculous movie, but thats alright, because I found it really funny and enjoyed it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I haven't really done anything except for rip the bleach musicals off youtube and watch them, as well as the backstages. They are really amusing. Especially because my favorite character's actor is REALLY hot. Actually, most of them are really hot, but thats besides the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, yesterday I did nothing but watch horror movies all day yesterday. Thats the reason I decided that the weekend before Halloween I'm going to have a horror movie party at my house once it gets dark. Tell me if you'd like to come to that. Though I do still have to okay it with my parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wicked is on Wednesday, I can't wait. It seems like its going to be a very musical week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Previous Quotes:&lt;br /&gt;"We all live to die laughing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "Why don't you smile?"&lt;br /&gt;- "The question is, Why do you choose to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat till you're full.&lt;br /&gt;Play anytime you want.&lt;br /&gt;Sleep as much as you like. &lt;br /&gt;Cry. Get angry. Laugh.&lt;br /&gt;Live. Live. Live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-2357357011977806995?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/2357357011977806995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=2357357011977806995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2357357011977806995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/2357357011977806995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/were-off-to-see-wizard.html' title='We&apos;re off to see the Wizard.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4688074365782203804</id><published>2008-09-15T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T20:58:58.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts on a Random day.</title><content type='html'>First, a list of things I wish I could do on a daily basis, but I can't due to location location location.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I wish I could climb trees... when I lived in Virginia we lived across the street from a forest, I don't remember much, but I could sure as hell climb those trees now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Take a hike in the woods. You know, a nice shady trip with the sound of the forest/woods around you, green everywhere, perhaps a lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Wade through a river, or heck, just walk next to a river, perhaps put my feet in the water, stand in the river, or sit on a bridge and go fishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-lie on the grass and stare at the sky, just to think. Can't do that here, too many people, the weather is never nice enough, and the Grass isn't pleasant where we actually have it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Walk places, I greatly wish I lived in the downtown areas of a city, where everything was walking distance from me, and there were interesting people, and interesting stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This list could go on, but those are some of the main points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started to think that a person without emotions would probably be smarter (of a higher intelligence?) than a person who is weighed down with emotions. Without these emotions clouding their thoughts then they'd have a more logical mindset and would be able to correctly weigh the importance of things in situations. Of course, this probably means they'd be horridly socially awkward, but they wouldn't have the need for any social companionship as talking to people wouldn't bring them any emotion they didn't have. &lt;br /&gt;While realizing this, there was a snag in my logic... I thought... "why would they want to be smart, what would make them go on." Caitlin helped me through this. We decided that in this day in age, with almost any type of upbringing the person would feel an obligation; not fueled by any emotions, needing no motivation, to succeed in life, in the materialistic sort of the world. &lt;br /&gt;Thats all I have for now, I will think on this more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last random thought:&lt;br /&gt;I realized why I could never bring myself to ask a guy out...&lt;br /&gt;I don't see why anyone would like a person like me in that type of way, thats why I always find people who have crushes on me absolutely nuts, and ask if they were dared when they tell me this... Which means that if I told the guy that I liked him, I'd be struck down with disappointment (that I'd luckily be prepared for). On the offhand chance he did say that he liked me back, I wouldn't feel if that was a truly genuine like, but as if the guy felt guilty for someone as strange as me liking him, and would say that just so as to not hurt my feelings. And then the last part is, that if I ever stopped liking the guy, or we got in an argument, I wouldn't be able to brake up with him. I'd feel that to be a bit too mean, and just try to get him to not like me instead... I think I'll just stick to the planned life of being a crazy cat lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I need this room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SM8usjThKFI/AAAAAAAAAJk/jcqflRCMu7s/s1600-h/1221456311715.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SM8usjThKFI/AAAAAAAAAJk/jcqflRCMu7s/s400/1221456311715.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246463433836144722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4688074365782203804?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4688074365782203804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4688074365782203804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4688074365782203804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4688074365782203804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/random-thoughts-on-random-day.html' title='Random thoughts on a Random day.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SM8usjThKFI/AAAAAAAAAJk/jcqflRCMu7s/s72-c/1221456311715.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-398444713331944946</id><published>2008-09-14T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T14:17:16.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Dream a Dream</title><content type='html'>First: I added a new part to my blog... the Quote(s) of the week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams, My dreams are always really strange... And tend to have Zombies in them, but thats another story... That most people probably already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two dreams recently, both rather odd...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the First dream on... Friday night all it consisted of was me in my art class painting Cloud's police baton for my cosplay with brown spray paint, then when I was done I went home to paint my toenails, wonder if this means I want to paint something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night (or this morning, as I went to bed at 2:30) I had a dream that I was driving a VW microbus with only one seat(drivers seat), while there were two men in the back having sex. And to avoid a cop, as they weren't buckled in I went straight on a road instead of turning left, onto a road called 'terror road' (wow... how lame). At this point in time the two in the back had stopped their sexy time and were leaning over my shoulder, pointing out I went onto a deserted road called 'terror road'. I realized this was probably a stupid mistake and veared off the road a bit so I could turn around. Suddenly we were surrounded by gophers that were apparently out to get us, but me being me, did not want to harm the gophers. So I tried to maneuver  around them, that only getting the three of us farther away from the road in the desert area. The gophers had disappeared, so we got out of the microbus and started walking, and suddenly sheep started to come at us and try to attack us. I'm not sure how, but we ended up with pipes and sticks to defend them off... somehow making our way up to the top of the mountain where the microbus turned sports car was... The sheep kept trying to make their way up the mountain along with two other random guys. We kept hitting the sheep off the cliff, them dieing once they hit the ground, but more sheep appearing, and the guys that were coming off we hit off also, but they just kept coming back more battered and more zombie-like. At one point in time, when defending from the now Really zombie-like guys my cell phone got launched off the cliff too, I was very sad. Somehow we defeated all of them, then the three of us got into the now sports car (me driving again, not sure why) and drove down the hill (which surprisingly didn't damage the car), at the bottom, all the dead bodies seemed to have disappeared and my cell phone was there. I picked it up and it was in perfect condition, signal and all... and then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, on another note. I have roughly $72 in change on my desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, on Friday, I ate a salt and vinegar flavored cricket (far too salty for my tastes), as well as a cheddar flavored meal worm(i think?), Courtesy of Yohan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-398444713331944946?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/398444713331944946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=398444713331944946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/398444713331944946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/398444713331944946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-dream-dream.html' title='To Dream a Dream'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-343463085702414442</id><published>2008-09-10T22:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T23:07:39.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take me out to the Ball Game</title><content type='html'>...And Six Flags&lt;br /&gt;...And Friends Houses&lt;br /&gt;...And another Ball Game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First note before I rant about random shit thats happened within the past week is... I STILL HAVEN'T GONE IN SPANISH!!! WOOO!!!&lt;br /&gt;... alright, over with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Friday after school I drove an hour a way to Six Flags with Paige, Woody, Nikki and Michelle (a celebration of Michelle's birthday, I hope you had a good time, even though we forced you to go on Deja Vu)&lt;br /&gt;My mom gets uber-awesome points as it was for a private party. The most we had to wait in line was ten minutes for Tatsu... and we got in the front car. After you get into the front car of that, you'll never want to be in any other car, it was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;Woody and I were the only ones who went on X2, it was scary as shit but a blast. &lt;br /&gt;Overall, the day was REALLY epic, Seriously amazing, Even if I did have to drive...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was rather random. Woody had spent the night after the MM trip, we woke up at noonish, and then I spent the rest of the day vegging on the computer until my parents decided that we NEEDED to go to a Jethawks game this year. The Jethawks lost, it was rather sad. I bought a game on my cell phone and played that most of the time instead of watching the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately following the game I went to Grace's house, and we stayed up until 3 AM talking about random things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't remember what I did on Sunday AT ALL, Was I at Nikki's? Perhaps... I vaguely remember watching Saiyuki, but that could also have been on Monday. Which I don't remember either &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was Taco Tuesday, exciting as always, Restarted .hack//G.U. and then Went to Nikki's to spend the night(as the Hadron Collider was started up,) and watch more Saiyuki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today... Was random. I fell asleep after school and woke up to my mom being pissed off because I was napping, And somehow my dad appeared home, So we went off to ANOTHER Jethawks game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Jethawks game... I must say, that was exciting, random, and hilarious. On the way to the game my parents decided we needed to stop at Party city to see if they sold cowbells, bought three and some batman pencils to hit them with, then off to the game! The game was exciting, we were sitting next to Storm supporters and the entire time it was a 'who could be louder' competition. Jethawks won by the way, they are now the Californian southern league champions, the complete state league championships starting on Saturday... or Friday. I also was hit on by an overly-cocky 12 year old -_-, and then There was this guy sitting behind us, with the weirdest taunts ever. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE SWINGING THAT SPATULA, COOKIE" and such like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I can't remember all the details because I'm exhausted... Its being a tireing week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-343463085702414442?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/343463085702414442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=343463085702414442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/343463085702414442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/343463085702414442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/take-me-out-to-ball-game.html' title='Take me out to the Ball Game'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7577141139449170703</id><published>2008-09-04T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T21:50:50.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On Explaining Anime: It's just kind of weird.</title><content type='html'>I've noticed that whenever I try to explain anime, I get really strange looks. Of course, Anime being anime, it is rather strange, but when you don't know the context of anything it just sounds WEIRD, while the anime itself could actually be rather philosophical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Example, Saiyuki:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6T1gzJaI/AAAAAAAAAIw/a0Ma32bQzmY/s1600-h/1207687017067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6T1gzJaI/AAAAAAAAAIw/a0Ma32bQzmY/s400/1207687017067.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242394816204187042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   four guys on a journey west to stop a youkai invasion. All right, sounds pretty normal right there, for a manga. Then you start talking about how they used to live in heaven 500 years ago, how ones a monkey king, one of the gods is a hermaphrodite and theres a dragon that changes into a Jeep. This is where you start to get weird looks (if you weren't already because you were talking about anime/manga in the first place.) But disregarding these... slightly strange facts, the manga overall is actually generally awesome. A lot of action, no women (yes! well, there are two main ones, but they're evil, kinda...), rather anti-climatic moments, but also rather deep moments, and really interesting quotes that just make you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Example, Katekyo Hitman Reborn: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6UAH8h0I/AAAAAAAAAI4/furyQwJlMn4/s1600-h/vongolawall1024x768fd6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6UAH8h0I/AAAAAAAAAI4/furyQwJlMn4/s400/vongolawall1024x768fd6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242394819052734274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Alright, I admit, this one isn't very deep, but it is VERY hard to explain without looking like a lunatic. The main characters are a 13 year old boy who isn't good at ANYTHING, and a 5 year old hitman with a chameleon that changes into a gun who has to teach the 13 year old to be a mafia boss. Now, this already sounds really strange, but to teach the kid, the 5 year old shoots him in the head to activate his 'dieing will' mode, where all his clothes ('cept his boxers) get ripped off and he has to fight with his, well... dieing will. This is just the start of the crazy. Few other examples is ANOTHER 5 year old hitman (kinda, hes actually pretty useless) who has a bazooka that, when hit with it, the person trades place with their future selves (10 years to be exact). As well as the 13 year olds entire 'family' being complete nutters. Theres no real... Deep point to this, but it is rather amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But people often get turned off by some of these explanations, when really, I think that just kind of makes the thought of watching/reading it a bit more interesting to see what the HELL They are talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral of this rant is... trying to explain fantasy things without the person having at least a bit of an idea about what you're are talking about makes you sound like a lunatic... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, a Comic that makes me think of what a relationship I'd be in would be like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6UHqZ-iI/AAAAAAAAAJA/D-sSSFW2Tlo/s1600-h/journal_5.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6UHqZ-iI/AAAAAAAAAJA/D-sSSFW2Tlo/s400/journal_5.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242394821076318754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I STILL haven't bought overalls...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7577141139449170703?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7577141139449170703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7577141139449170703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7577141139449170703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7577141139449170703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-explaining-anime-its-just-kind-of.html' title='On Explaining Anime: It&apos;s just kind of weird.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SMC6T1gzJaI/AAAAAAAAAIw/a0Ma32bQzmY/s72-c/1207687017067.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8291553194829498917</id><published>2008-09-02T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T22:34:56.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day Weekend</title><content type='html'>Labor Day weekend, and Tuesday also I guess... Of Fun times and Illnesses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: &lt;br /&gt;     Grace and I went down to Little Tokyo, Missed the first train because people are freaking RETARDED, got the second one though and had a blast. I enjoyed the metro, mainly because I like the feeling of things moving, Trains, Cars, Planes, that sorts. Unfortunately on the way there is when I first started to get the head crushing, ears hurting sickness feeling.&lt;br /&gt;     Ended up spending 150 bucks on art books, a pocket watch, some presents for friends, dinner/lunch thing (had chicken at a Ramen place, Kerwin highly disapproved), a deck of cards (Saiyuki ones, they're kickass) and rather random stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;    On the way home, we talked to really random people (a family of 4 and this really awesome stoner/raver girl.)for over half the train ride. Then, about 20 minutes before the metro trip was over, three people (of the eight anime nerds Grace and I had seen walking around Little Tokyo all day) walked up to us and were like, "So, We noticed you guys like anime" and started a conversation that lasted for a while in the metro station parking lot. Turns out they were AVC students who have a monthly anime club that we'd been invited to, (also, they thought we were AVC students, getting us the quote "NO ONE LOOKS THEIR AGE ANYMORE!") and one of them (guy who was a B-tard also) was really hot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;    I mostly just lazed around most of the day, starting to feel ill but ignoring it until my mom forced me to take medicine right before I went to Michelle's for her birthday. We went to olive garden, went swimming and had an overall awesome time. Too bad my head started killing me and I had to go home early. Sadpanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday &amp; Tuesday: &lt;br /&gt;    Ill, Very ill, didn't get much done either of these days. Had to do Physics that Caitlin brought me (Much thanks for that) and then study for a Spanish test. Didn't really retain any of the information from that. Gonna go to school tomorrow, take the  tests anyway because I hate having to retake tests, its just annoying and time consuming. Anyway, Hope the tests go well and Illnesses go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. So, have 5 presentations to write and memorize by Thursday. that'll be a blast&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8291553194829498917?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8291553194829498917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8291553194829498917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8291553194829498917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8291553194829498917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/09/labor-day-weekend.html' title='Labor Day Weekend'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3985232198550215805</id><published>2008-08-25T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T16:45:31.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've Done This Weekend... and Monday</title><content type='html'>All the Pain of schoolwork I've been though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extended essay, Main part finished, I'll write the damn abstract on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Failed a Math test, Told you all that I was gonna fail it, just stopped being dissappointed a LONG time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of History Essay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spanish Los Tres Artistas essay, though only 204 words, I don't care, she can deal with the shortness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read 50 pages of Heart of Darkness, Can't wait for Henry V. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Physics Homework Parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Physics Labs (which I havn't actually done yet, but I'm starting it soon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and 10 Art Workbook pages. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm About ready to just curl up and die from the overload. I thought senior year was suppost to be nicer. Bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something Really exciting, really un-stressing and really awesome needs to happen REALLY SOON, or else I might explode. Just a warning for people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully my next blog will be happier than my last two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3985232198550215805?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3985232198550215805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3985232198550215805' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3985232198550215805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3985232198550215805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-ive-done-this-weekend-and-monday.html' title='What I&apos;ve Done This Weekend... and Monday'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7460816809587476449</id><published>2008-08-19T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T20:57:55.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Story and a Crappy Day</title><content type='html'>First, This story, comes from Cowboy Bebop. But Kerwin Refreshed my memory of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;get out from the shell says:&lt;br /&gt;There once was a tiger striped cat. This cat died a million deaths, revived and lived a million lives, and he was owned by various people who he didn't really care for. The cat wasn't afraid to die. One day the cat became a stray cat, which meant he was free. He met a white female cat, and the two of them spent their days together happily.&lt;br /&gt;Well, years passed, and the white cat grew weak and died of old age. The tiger striped cat cried a million times, and then died too. Except this time, he didn't come back to life.&lt;br /&gt;to which Jet responds "I like that story."&lt;br /&gt;and Spike says "I hate it."&lt;br /&gt;and when Jet asks why&lt;br /&gt;Spike says "I hate cats, Jet, you know that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you notice how no one ever comments on the Good days, or the average days, only the Great days and the completely Crappy ones. I guess these stand out the most to us. As I'll remember how this day sucked for a while, yet I can't very much remember anything about yesterday. Not gonna bother elaborating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, the post was just for saving that story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also two quotes from Deadman Wonderland. "Life is made to be unjust and unfair." and "Only kids and fucked up adults think they're 'special'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7460816809587476449?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7460816809587476449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7460816809587476449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7460816809587476449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7460816809587476449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/08/story-and-crappy-day.html' title='A Story and a Crappy Day'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3641623326533992497</id><published>2008-08-11T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T23:11:01.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There Are Signs when you just know that school is gonna suck.</title><content type='html'>Yeah, The first day of school. How I wish that it was Still summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the first sign that I marked a sucky day was getting up at 3:30 in the morning because I still have Jet Lag from going to Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second thing was when I get in the shower and its FREEZING because my mother forgot to turn the hot water back on after our Trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third thing was when the teacher who was handing out my schedules decided we had to wait until school started to get our schedules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess things started kind of picking up after that, Kerwin delivered Rose Princess and Typing of the Dead from Ren. (Which, by the way, is an insanely epic game. even if I kinda suck.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got an oral presentation in Spanish(that period took forever) and there are only 5 IB students in my 2nd period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Village class is 5th, but it has almost all the people I hate in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art was awesome. We got to sit at the big kid tables and we made Penis jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after school was panda, which is always delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the day with mediocre. I just hope the school year gets better soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3641623326533992497?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3641623326533992497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3641623326533992497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3641623326533992497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3641623326533992497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/08/there-are-signs-when-you-just-know-that.html' title='There Are Signs when you just know that school is gonna suck.'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-6292502792970906713</id><published>2008-08-10T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T14:29:59.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Florida</title><content type='html'>Where my mother got her degree and became a Doctor officially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I saw the Blue Men Group&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where no place would sell me a hamburger at 7:10 in the morning (Man, I really wanted a hamburger)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I missed my friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I hung out with my aunt, uncle, and grandparents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I remembered that School started on Monday (FUCK)and even worse, ToK essay due in a month. (double fuck)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I got my New Awesome Shoessss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I went to universal studios and almost beat my brother on the MIB ride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where there are a LOT of hot men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I was REALLY REALLY Bored at night due to jet lag&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I woke up ridiculously early&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I took tons of Naps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I got yelled at for hating people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I was so glad I had my new phone with Internet, or else I couldn't contact ANYONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where my family discussed Indian Burial Putt Putt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I Actually read my summer reading books (first time I've read them both! Oh yeahhhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Florida. A lot of shit happened, More than is listed here. But I missed the AV even if it is less Green and windier. Missed my friends, missed my cat and dog especially. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all for now. School starts tomorrow... Woo -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-6292502792970906713?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/6292502792970906713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=6292502792970906713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6292502792970906713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/6292502792970906713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/08/florida.html' title='Florida'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8469594941690974484</id><published>2008-08-02T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T01:54:27.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its 1:37 and I want to make cake</title><content type='html'>Lets see... My brother disappeared, My Parents are at T-hatch, and I want to make cake. Too bad the only cake mix I have is strawberry, I have no issue with strawberry, I just really want chocolate cake, perhaps I'll go to the store in the morning and buy chocolate cake mix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man I'm bored, I wish I could have a KINDA normal sleeping schedual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other news, I got my Two art projects done, now all I have is 7 more art workbook pages, and those two books to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll read Slaughterhouse 5 on the plane trip to Florida, and perhaps skim though the god of small things. I highly doubt I'll read it, I'll have people give me the plot overview and such (Paige says I shouldn't read the last chapter, probably gonna listen to her)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the beach today, (Yesterday?) had a blast though I had sand EVERYWHERE. Should do that more often, it was fun, even if there were no cute boys on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to school shopping Tomorrow (Today?) mainly for shorts, and I guess notebooks. Though really, I can't think of anything I really need right now for school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School starts in a week, this will suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Florida, Monday to Sunday, Man... I'm gonna be so bored while I'm gone, someone call me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This entire post has been a bunch of random sentences with no coherent plot. Eh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I wish there was some magical way to get into shape, ah well. At least I have my thinspiration.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8469594941690974484?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8469594941690974484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8469594941690974484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8469594941690974484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8469594941690974484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-137-and-i-want-to-make-cake.html' title='Its 1:37 and I want to make cake'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-894504599792951472</id><published>2008-07-29T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:00:25.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vikings, Vampires, Vincents, Eyepatches, and The Mafia</title><content type='html'>Interesting List, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, These are common themes in the Manga/anime/movies I've been watching/reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll give examples of each&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vikings: Vinland-COMPLETELY about vikings, then random mentions of Norse gods and Valhalla and Valkyries, oh, and Thor popping up everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1B191I1I/AAAAAAAAAIA/HHOJKbdBEbo/s1600-h/Vinland+Saga+v01+p061.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1B191I1I/AAAAAAAAAIA/HHOJKbdBEbo/s400/Vinland+Saga+v01+p061.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228667104415523666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vampires: Vampire Hunter D, Vassalord, Krory from D. Grey-man and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1CCefzxI/AAAAAAAAAII/0QCcx5ENRhY/s1600-h/5434-mwgqhlbpzo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1CCefzxI/AAAAAAAAAII/0QCcx5ENRhY/s400/5434-mwgqhlbpzo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228667107773763346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vincents: Vincent Valentine, Vincent Volaju, and Random Vincents scattered throughout all the things I watch (heh, even in WoW, random corpse named Vincent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1B-mtOoI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Y8-JWsK9abg/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1B-mtOoI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Y8-JWsK9abg/s400/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228667106734455426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyepatches: I Swear, So many men with eyepatches, its kinda amazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1BsMVWBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/58wN5aQO2Wo/s1600-h/1212681688677.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1BsMVWBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/58wN5aQO2Wo/s400/1212681688677.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228667101792000018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Mafia: Either the main characters are in it, they're the main villain, or they're of some significance in a chapter of almost everything I've seen/read. Hell, one of my favorite Mangas revolves Completely around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1Bun775I/AAAAAAAAAHo/-ddMiQrd4A8/s1600-h/01-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1Bun775I/AAAAAAAAAHo/-ddMiQrd4A8/s400/01-02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228667102444646290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-894504599792951472?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/894504599792951472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=894504599792951472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/894504599792951472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/894504599792951472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/07/vikings-vampires-vincents-eyepatches.html' title='Vikings, Vampires, Vincents, Eyepatches, and The Mafia'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SI_1B191I1I/AAAAAAAAAIA/HHOJKbdBEbo/s72-c/Vinland+Saga+v01+p061.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-5411138000920350218</id><published>2008-07-26T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T00:13:05.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hermits, School, and Really Random Shit</title><content type='html'>So, School and Hermits will basically be combined into one topic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost 100% sure this school year will suck major balls, be pants on head retarded, be window licking retarded, fill me with the fiery rage of a thousand hemorrhaging tundercunts ( (c) my brother) ever since Registration happened&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I have finally started to do my summer work. Though, I plan to do my reading while In Florida, I've started on my Art Projects. I hope Miller accepts 14X14 as a large project, if not, well... Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if this school year goes as I have predicted then I'm taking up archery for a year, and going to go live in the forest, build my own house and become a damn hermit (this will probably have to take place in the east coast or Canada), or perhaps, like Kerwin suggested I'll travel the world, jumping on the back of trains and boats, becoming a very minor crime fighter (psh, don't care enough about people to save them, would more likely become a random jack of all trades worker for some money)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, really random shit shall take place this year. I've decided to try to get in good enough shape to do freerunning, we'll have to see how that turns out I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and more news, Woody's an Aunt... weirdddddd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anddddd, I really should start writing that story thats been floating in my head for a year now, too bad I'll never get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sara/Hermit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Why Does everyone think it's so strange that I like ABBA and saw Mamma Mia? Is it that odd? Guess so...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-5411138000920350218?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/5411138000920350218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=5411138000920350218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/5411138000920350218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/5411138000920350218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/07/hermits-school-and-really-random-shit.html' title='Hermits, School, and Really Random Shit'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4609684171152913926</id><published>2008-07-23T01:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T01:15:25.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I HATE our Adminstration</title><content type='html'>The title pretty much describes what I wanna say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dealing with 4 of our 6 classes being messed up and basically being called too retarded to take the math class I need isn't pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically this reinstates my feeling of hating people. I think I'll just become a hermit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that means I'll have to hunt my own food. Perhaps I should take up archery (actually, that sounds awesome. I'll talk to my mom about it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYway, thanks everyone who helped cheer me up today, special thanks to Nikki for the brownies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Later, Sara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4609684171152913926?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4609684171152913926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4609684171152913926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4609684171152913926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4609684171152913926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-hate-our-adminstration.html' title='I HATE our Adminstration'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8069573724151616734</id><published>2008-07-09T01:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T01:32:54.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Random Question</title><content type='html'>Not much to this post, other than realizing I haven't posted since last month (oops) and posing a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you notice that no one ever says something tastes beautiful? Can Beauty only be something someone sees? What about taste, touch, smell (I'm sure someone has said something smells beautiful before) or hearing...? Think of something that you think is beautiful in a different sense and get back to me, would be fun to think about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace, I'll post more when its not 1:32 in the morning, Jetskiing wore me out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8069573724151616734?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8069573724151616734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8069573724151616734' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8069573724151616734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8069573724151616734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/07/random-question.html' title='A Random Question'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8267936407586572612</id><published>2008-06-29T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T22:28:51.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is what I do with my free time...</title><content type='html'>Apart from playing WoW of course, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/Spocklaugh.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make Gifs from Bloopers, huh. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;(mostly posted so Jew could see)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8267936407586572612?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8267936407586572612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8267936407586572612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8267936407586572612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8267936407586572612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/this-is-what-i-do-with-my-free-time.html' title='This is what I do with my free time...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3894014145131441815</id><published>2008-06-28T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T03:08:29.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kraut, Parties, and Star Trek</title><content type='html'>Well, It's 3 in the morning... Huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Kraut's out to visit, Thats always a fun part of life, and it causes much celebration, do wish that Smity was here to celebrate it also (everyones leaving us!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parties, Parties are always fun. There was a Pot-luck Brawl, rock band, random wii game party at Kerwin's, with a very random crew there. at around 8:15 Jenna had to leave, leaving only Circle women left at the party (Nikki and I.)  But thats alright, Because everyone knows that the circle women are the best women evah! (Now I wish a guy would see that about me, caused me some great depression over silly boy issues three hours ago, thanks for people who tried to cheer me up, or just let me rant -Grace, Nikki, Michelle, and Woody-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in about... 9 hours There shall be an official "YO KRAUT!" Party, and we're going to see Get Smart, from what I've heard it will be a great movie, I'll elaborate more on that... eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now.... Star Trek, what can I say about this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I adore it, TOS (the original series) and TNG (The next generation) have to be some of the best TV shows ever created. But I haven't been watchign TNG so this rant is really just about TOS, and more of all really just about Kirk, Spock and McCoy. (Trust me, there will probably be a full Trekkie rant blog some time in the near future. Can't forget about Checkov, and Sulu, and even Uhura, -chapel can go screw herself, stay away from Spock you whore!-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've stolen this quote from Jew's Blog: "The three of them are simply three separate manifestations of the same being, the human being. You have McCoy who embodies emotions and stress, Kirk who embodies anger, and Spock who embodies logic. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your favorite comes from the one who possesses the characteristic you favor the most, or that you see in yourself.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm REALLY annoyed that i can't pick my favorite of these three&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaning toward Spock, because I adore Vulcans (Pointy ears are adorable, and I like the thought of being an emotionless bastard, i truly wish i was a Vulcan.)&lt;br /&gt;But then There is Kirk and McCoy, who I just cant bring myself to love any less. This is hard. I honestly doubt I'll ever really be able to chose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SGYNgmUi-SI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yoEBo4H9Rdg/s1600-h/trio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SGYNgmUi-SI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yoEBo4H9Rdg/s400/trio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216872072048998690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3894014145131441815?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3894014145131441815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3894014145131441815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3894014145131441815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3894014145131441815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/kraut-parties-and-star-trek.html' title='Kraut, Parties, and Star Trek'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SGYNgmUi-SI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yoEBo4H9Rdg/s72-c/trio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-645324912419012851</id><published>2008-06-22T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T22:28:12.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Deserves its own Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/azfvMuQD-J8&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;A Conversation so epic that it deserves its own post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Kerwin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Nikki&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;Sara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/azfvMuQD-J8&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/azfvMuQD-J8&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;THAT is Joe Lee on the Tv. with emotion and dance skills. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Hoowwww.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;What is this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;i dont know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;but if he grows up to be that, i'd easily hit it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;xD haha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Is he the one in black? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;yus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;We should ask him about this.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Does he have like a dance group and where did they go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;and can we have them? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;heh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;give him 10 years and i can see it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;I don't think that's him...in the comments it says it is a guy named Yara Tomoyki . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;So I am confused. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;*facepalm* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;its Not REALLY him &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;its some Korean dude &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;named Yara &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;xD Wow. I feel stupid &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;and am going to go hide in a corner &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;It's alright, we still love you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Yeah, I am far too gullible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Nikki When we were talking Earlier today: "I was going to ask him Why he is in school if he was a pop sensation, and can he dance for us, and sing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-645324912419012851?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/645324912419012851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=645324912419012851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/645324912419012851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/645324912419012851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/this-deserves-its-own-post.html' title='This Deserves its own Post'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-276878531429452703</id><published>2008-06-22T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T21:02:58.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Needa Post More...</title><content type='html'>Topics of this Post. WoW-Ren, Dakota, Woody, Noll. Nikki. Old Cartoons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WoW&lt;br /&gt;Oh, World of Warcraft, how I've lost my soul to you already...&lt;br /&gt;Playing on Shattered Halls with Ren, My magical level 14 troll hunter with her raptor Vincent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing with Noll,(a.k.a. Blazen, a.k.a. Eric) Woody, and Dakota on Anatheron. My Blood Elf priest is level 30, huzzah, higher than all three of them. Andddd on Tuesday we get a new patch that allows level 30s to get their Mounts rather than having to wait for 40. I get my Chocobo soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nikki&lt;br /&gt;I swear, she has not been having a good time...existing... these last couple of weeks. So I'm going to write down some of the things she has done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting with my favorite: Nikki:Is he a Vampire Hunter? &lt;br /&gt;Me: You mean D?&lt;br /&gt;Nikki: Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You mean, Vampire Hunter D...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were anagramming random words at Jew's birthday party:&lt;br /&gt;Nikki: HEY GUYS! Did you know you can spell John from John McCain?... oh wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking to Dakota on the bus trip to the Norton Simon Museum&lt;br /&gt;Dakota: The only good stations are below 90 or above 100&lt;br /&gt;Nikki: Yeah, like 93.5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting slurpees with Nikki and Michelle, Nikki walks to the car next to my car and I thought she was just going to walk around the car to get to mine. She then puts the Slurpee on the other car and tries to open the door. now this car was a smallish blue one, looked nothing like my green Subaru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While looking at people who were born in 1991&lt;br /&gt;Nikki: Olav V of Finland (Said V instead of five)&lt;br /&gt;Jew: Don't you mean Olav the Fifth?&lt;br /&gt;Nikki: Oh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in my room&lt;br /&gt;Nikki: Man, I haven't been having a good week this past couple of...&lt;br /&gt;Me: Past couple of what? Weeks? a good week these past couple of weeks? Days? a good week the past couple of days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats the once we have so far... Don't remember the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Cartoons&lt;br /&gt;Man, I really miss the old cartoons, Like Angry Beavers, and Freakazoid, and Thundercats and such. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-276878531429452703?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/276878531429452703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=276878531429452703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/276878531429452703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/276878531429452703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-needa-post-more.html' title='I Needa Post More...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-112200767157076266</id><published>2008-06-11T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T21:06:37.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Metal Gear Solid 4, Museum, a goal, and Vampires</title><content type='html'>They canceled the midnight opening for Metal Gear Solid 4 at gamestop, this a very sad Sara makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nikki's Preparing for the museum tomorrow (as I've stolen her computer to post this) and is bringing munchies.... mmmm munchies. the original plan was to play MGS4 until 4 and then sleep on the bus ride, but since I'm not getting that I guess I'll play my DS the entire time. Bit sad that no one has Tetris. Hopefully It'll be a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Goal: I'm bringing back overalls dammit! I'd bring back bell bottoms, but I don't quite think the world is ready for that yet... heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Grace sent this to me the other day, saying it reminded her of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was turned into a Vampire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       1. I shall wear tweed, and cheerful bright clothing. Further, I shall only wear trenchcoats if it is raining or foggy. (I find Trenchcoats badass, but inconvenient, and I'd probably just wear what I do now)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       2. I will not take my victims home. My neighbors are far too nosy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       3. I will be secure in my immortality. I do not have to share my story with any reporter or struggling writer. (That's just asking for death)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       4. I will not purchase an expensive foreign sports car or motorcycle. An economical, multi-terrain vehicle with 4 wheel drive will be just fine. (Mini-coopers or a Prius)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       5. I will immediately become Agnostic, disarming any cross-wielding religious maniacs. (Well, stay Atheist, but whatever)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       6. I shall not keep a coffin in the basement, that's the first place people look. (How about in a Bedroom)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       7. I shall immediately purchase a Hooked on Phonics tape, in order to lose any Romanian accents I may have. (or Muzzy, don't you get a freaky blue bear thing with that?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       8. My ghouls shall have good posture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       9. I will purchase a digital watch with an alarm. I will set this alarm for TWO hours before sunrise, giving ample time for traffic and other inconveniences. (reminds me of I am Legend)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      10. If I feel truly alone, and need a companion to share all of eternity with, I shall purchase a dog. Preferably one that is not larger than I am. (Probably a Cat instead, they'll live longer anyway, and less bothersome)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      11. If the neighborhood kids are snooping around my house, I will not change into a giant wolf and attempt to destroy them. Instead, I shall call the police and have them arrested for trespassing. (or Invite them in, as long as they're not really annoying, Kids are fun to talk too sometime, and I get along with them if they're old enough)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      12. If I believe far too many people are becoming suspicious, I shall not attempt to kill them all. I will simply move, and leave no forwarding address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      13. There is no logical reason for someone to mistake another human being for a fifteen-foot bat, not even in hysteria. Therefore, I shall refrain from such transformations in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      14. Artists are over-emotional and unstable. I shall not keep company with them whatsoever. (I should know, I am one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      15. I will not attend gatherings of my own kind. If I'm a lethal killing machine, doomed for all eternity to destroy those around me, they probably are too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace, and Nikki Said I'd make an amazing Vampire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Extra Note: If anyone has any good name for WoW characters (male or female, i do not care) Post them in the comments, I need more names for all my wundaba alts, Por Favor y Gracias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-112200767157076266?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/112200767157076266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=112200767157076266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/112200767157076266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/112200767157076266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/metal-gear-solid-4-museum-goal-and.html' title='Metal Gear Solid 4, Museum, a goal, and Vampires'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7433323040508086447</id><published>2008-06-04T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T15:38:24.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quinton Flynn!</title><content type='html'>Yeah, I adore this Voice actor... not much to say in this post... just gonna list shit He has been in.... And his Heterosexual Life Partner (thats what it said on wiki, basically his best friend) was Wolfwood in Trigun, bitchass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anime Roles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Bleach - Kon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Blood+ - Carl Fei-Ong, McCoy, Young Man (ep. 11), Black Suit E (ep. 32)&lt;br /&gt;    * Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo- Maloney Oni(first form)&lt;br /&gt;    * Digimon Data Squad - Marcus Damon&lt;br /&gt;    * Initial D - Shingo Shoji&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Naruto - Iruka Umino, Deidara (Episode 135)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Zatch Bell! - Doctor Riddles, Haru, Victoream, Additional Voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Chaotic - w:c:chaotic:Nanul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roles in American animation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Aladdin - Additional voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Avatar: The Last Airbender - Mugger Tycho (Episode 35)&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Codename: Kids Next Door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Fantastic Four - Human Torch/Johnny Storm&lt;br /&gt;    * The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy - Dr. Gaylord (The Dinobonoids), Jurasic Creeps #2 and 4, and Brandon (as a guest voice)&lt;br /&gt;    * House of Mouse - Timon, Happy&lt;br /&gt;    * My Life as a Teenage Robot - Sheldon Lee, Don Prima&lt;br /&gt;    * Robot Chicken - Additional Voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Sonic Underground - Additional Voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Stuart Little: The Animated Series - Snowbell&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Teen Titans - Lightning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest - Jonny Quest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * The Lion King's Timon and Pumbaa - Timon (Season One)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie roles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * A Hard Day's Day - A Parody Film of the English Rock Band The Beatles, As The Moptops, a Rock Band (performance) Parody of Paul McCartney&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; * Final Fantasy VII Advent Children - Reno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Television roles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Icons - Narrator (Season 5+)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Video game roles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Arc the Lad: Twilight of the Spirits - Kharg&lt;br /&gt;    * Baten Kaitos Origins - Sfida Attendant&lt;br /&gt;    * Bard's Tale - Additional Voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Bloody Roar: Primal Fury - Xion the Unborn&lt;br /&gt;    * Call of Duty - Additional Voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Call of Duty: United Offensive - Pvt. Ender&lt;br /&gt;    * Champions of Norrath - Gol Nazyn&lt;br /&gt;    * Champions: Return to Arms - Gol Nazyn&lt;br /&gt;    * Command &amp; Conquer: Generals - Pathfinder (U.S. Sniper)&lt;br /&gt;    * Command &amp; Conquer: Renegade - GDI Soldier/Civilian&lt;br /&gt;    * Command &amp; Conquer: Yuri's Revenge&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Charizard - Charizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Crash Nitro Kart - Doctor N. Gin and Nitros Oxide&lt;br /&gt;    * Crash Tag Team Racing - Chick Gizzard Lips&lt;br /&gt;    * Crash Twinsanity - Doctor N. Gin, The Evil Twins, Penguin&lt;br /&gt;    * Dead Head Fred - Various Voices&lt;br /&gt;    * Digimon World Data Squad - Marcus Damon&lt;br /&gt;    * Emperor: Battle for Dune - Unit Response Voice&lt;br /&gt;    * EverQuest II -&lt;br /&gt;    * Fantastic Four - Classic Human Torch/Johnny Storm&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core - Reno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Final Fantasy X - Isaaru, Bickson&lt;br /&gt;    * Final Fantasy X-2 - Isaaru&lt;br /&gt;    * Gungrave Overdose - Spike Hubie/Casino Manager&lt;br /&gt;    * Kessen III - Toshiie Maeda&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Kingdom Hearts II - Axel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * La Pucelle: Tactics - Croix&lt;br /&gt;    * Marvel: Ultimate Alliance - Spider-Man/Peter Parker, Arcade&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty - Raiden&lt;br /&gt;    * Metal Gear Solid 2: Substance - Raiden&lt;br /&gt;    * Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots - Raiden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops - Fox Soldier B&lt;br /&gt;    * Minority Report: Everybody Runs - Danny Witwer&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* Naruto games - Iruka Umino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * No More Heroes - Henry&lt;br /&gt;    * Onimusha: Blade Warriors - Kotaro Fuma&lt;br /&gt;    * Rogue Galaxy - Monsha, Toady, Ugozl lo Burkaqua&lt;br /&gt;    * Shellshock: Nam '67 - Corey, U.S. Soldiers, Pilots, Prisoner #10&lt;br /&gt;    * SOCOM II: U.S. Navy SEALs - Russian Spetznaz Operative: Bludshot&lt;br /&gt;    * Orphen: Scion of Sorcery - Orphen&lt;br /&gt;    * Spider-Man: Friend or Foe - Venom&lt;br /&gt;    * Star Wars: Droid Works - Eger Droid, and Tough Droid.&lt;br /&gt;    * Tenchu: Wrath of Heaven - Tatsumaru&lt;br /&gt;    * Tenchu 2: Birth of the Stealth Assassins - Wang Xiaoha&lt;br /&gt;    * The Curse of Monkey Island - Mr. Fossey&lt;br /&gt;    * Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon 2&lt;br /&gt;    * Tony Hawk's Downhill Jam - Interviewer Kevin Stabb&lt;br /&gt;    * Twisted Metal: Head-On&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;* World of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade - Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider&lt;/span&gt; (HOLY CRAP!)&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; * X-Men Legends II: Rise of Apocalypse - Banshee, Abyss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * Zatch Bell! Mamodo Battles - Doctor Riddles, Victoream&lt;br /&gt;    * Zatch Bell! Mamodo Fury - Doctor Riddles, Haru, Victoream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace (making up for those days I didn't post with random posts)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7433323040508086447?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7433323040508086447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7433323040508086447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7433323040508086447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7433323040508086447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/quinton-flynn.html' title='Quinton Flynn!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-5107003904623310044</id><published>2008-06-03T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T23:32:53.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops, Summer ToK, and Nicole's Pictures</title><content type='html'>Haven't posted in... ya know, forever. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer ToK, Two days in. The first day was, rather boring, I wont lie. Today was actually rather fun, went by quickly and we didn't do much, so I had some fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get to go to the mall tomorrow to get Old Snake and old Raiden pictures. Can't Wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, We finally got Nicole to come to Taco Tuesday! Huzzah! We discussed Cats and random such things. I looked for all the pictures I had got(basically stole) from her in Art class this year, just went and scanned them, and Since their amazing, thought I'd put them up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2RrNrweI/AAAAAAAAAGw/B8XsUVD_JB4/s1600-h/SCAN0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2RrNrweI/AAAAAAAAAGw/B8XsUVD_JB4/s400/SCAN0006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207909696386351586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2R9E43-I/AAAAAAAAAG4/Xf5w8IZQpw4/s1600-h/SCAN0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2R9E43-I/AAAAAAAAAG4/Xf5w8IZQpw4/s400/SCAN0007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207909701181300706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2SIDRUUI/AAAAAAAAAHA/1tExBtnF-6I/s1600-h/SCAN0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2SIDRUUI/AAAAAAAAAHA/1tExBtnF-6I/s400/SCAN0008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207909704127304002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2SvqQMVI/AAAAAAAAAHI/p4OvjecQwpg/s1600-h/SCAN0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2SvqQMVI/AAAAAAAAAHI/p4OvjecQwpg/s400/SCAN0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207909714759790930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2SzM6gJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/PW6cVzKBGjk/s1600-h/SCAN0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2SzM6gJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/PW6cVzKBGjk/s400/SCAN0010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207909715710476434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1ZLs2a-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/bHSNx8hVwlk/s1600-h/SCAN0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1ZLs2a-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/bHSNx8hVwlk/s400/SCAN0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207908725854464994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1ZrX1PkI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3T5uMdWLJYY/s1600-h/SCAN0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1ZrX1PkI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3T5uMdWLJYY/s400/SCAN0002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207908734356241986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1Z2ASqfI/AAAAAAAAAGY/8iC0IMXkUPw/s1600-h/SCAN0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1Z2ASqfI/AAAAAAAAAGY/8iC0IMXkUPw/s400/SCAN0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207908737210296818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1aLqi0II/AAAAAAAAAGg/iiH3aOB2E20/s1600-h/SCAN0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1aLqi0II/AAAAAAAAAGg/iiH3aOB2E20/s400/SCAN0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207908743024660610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1aWyZuTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/-pexXhoPWOw/s1600-h/SCAN0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY1aWyZuTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/-pexXhoPWOw/s400/SCAN0005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207908746010409266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-5107003904623310044?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/5107003904623310044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=5107003904623310044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/5107003904623310044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/5107003904623310044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/06/oops-summer-tok-and-nicoles-pictures.html' title='Oops, Summer ToK, and Nicole&apos;s Pictures'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SEY2RrNrweI/AAAAAAAAAGw/B8XsUVD_JB4/s72-c/SCAN0006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4190718989320079756</id><published>2008-05-27T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T21:40:57.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mad Scientists, ToK and Cosplay</title><content type='html'>So, I have a high attraction to nerdy, mad scientist like men. In anime and in real life. Which is a good thing I guess, nerdy men tend to be nice and will be able to treat you well later in life. Mad scientists can be a bit crazy (A bit?) but I can't seem to hate them, even if they are complete bastards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working on my ToK essay... basically slow going, even if I'm almost finished. Only have about a third of a paragraph and the conclusion left. Everything in this essay sounds so... ninth grade and I despise it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on to the more important topic of tonight, (which isn't that important, I just haven't posted in like... 2 days) Cosplay:&lt;br /&gt;The cosplays I have planned... lets see. Cloud, Squall, Neku, Link, Hibari, Zexion and possibly Lightning (if i stop hating myself)&lt;br /&gt;I love how cosplay is my thinspiration (though its not working that well heh.)&lt;br /&gt;I found my Ocarina, which kinda motivates me to want to do Link even more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, thats my ranting for today. i really need to find all the pictures Nicole has drawn for me over the year and scan them to put them on here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4190718989320079756?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4190718989320079756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4190718989320079756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4190718989320079756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4190718989320079756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/mad-scientists-tok-and-cosplay.html' title='Mad Scientists, ToK and Cosplay'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1174358605732487936</id><published>2008-05-25T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T14:49:41.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tehatchapi, Indie and The Living Art Show</title><content type='html'>You know, that is more than likely spelled wrong, (I honestly didn't realize 'spelt' was not a word...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, Indiana Jones on Friday was amazing. There were 17 of us there. That's a new record. Let's see... Jew, Michael(Jew's Brother), Woody, Dakota, Smity, Paige, Taylor(Paige's Sister), Brendan, Caitlin, Autumn, Nikki,  Margarita, Webster, Lisa(I did NOT expect her father to look like that), Michelle, Prances and Myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The living art show... Not much I can say about it. It was pretty alright all and all. After some stressful times it got all set up and went through all right (though I did have to reduce my speech)&lt;br /&gt;My speech went from: "What do you think of when you think of death? Probably not bountiful fields of grain, but believe it or not there is a connection. This is The Veteran in a New Field by the American Painter Winslow Homer. It was painted in the wake of the Civil War with the suffering and destruction still fresh in America's mind. Homer himself was a veteran of that war, giving it a very personal undertone. The man in the painting is a veteran, who has seen death up close and personal. He carries a scythe, which is traditionally paired with the image of death, but is also a vital tool of harvest and regrowth. By juxtaposing these conflicting meanings in one man, Homer sought to portray the sense of recovery after the polarizing war."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this: "This is the Veteran in a New Field by the American Painted Winslow Homer. It was painted in the wake of the Civil War with the suffering and destruction still fresh in America's mind. The man in the painting is a veteran of that war. He carries a scythe, which is traditionally paired with the image of death, but is also a vital tool of harvest and regrowth. Homer sought to portray the sense of recovery after the polarizing war."&lt;br /&gt;This all spoken in a really rushed manner. I Also managed to memorize Nikki and Zachass' speeches by standing next to them. (covered for Nikki when she went to give out snacks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the show Nikki and I hung out with Hutch and LeBeau for a bit. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had to run to Kerwin's house two times on Saturday, Once to drop of The Stranger and the other time to pick up a cord to get my PS2 to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to other house around 5ish, got back around 1ish, that's the least amount of time I've ever been up there I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home I had a weird conversation with the checkout guy (who had to be at least 5 years older than me) while I was getting a slurpee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Is that all for the beautiful Lady?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "mmhmm" (not paying attention)&lt;br /&gt;Him: Some weird comment about liking my hair and it fitting me.&lt;br /&gt;Me: some crack about it being blue and going swimming too much.&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Have a... Beautiful day."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "back at 'cha"&lt;br /&gt;Then I proceeded to go to the door and try to pull open the doors when you're supposed to push, Whoops. Next time I go in there I think I'll bring my brother in with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was more exhausted when I woke up then when I went to sleep, bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, Finished my World Lit. Sartre and Kafka are now my bitches. Just have the ToK essay left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1174358605732487936?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1174358605732487936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1174358605732487936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1174358605732487936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1174358605732487936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/tehatchapi.html' title='Tehatchapi, Indie and The Living Art Show'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7349768364143642395</id><published>2008-05-21T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T19:32:00.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Death Note, Awesomeness, and Sleepy</title><content type='html'>Last Night I saw The Death Note movie in Theaters. Saw it with Nikki, Chelle (Who Bought me the ticket, Love), Grace, Woody, Jack and his girlfriend. I was carded for the Third time in the past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsYcT2XI/AAAAAAAAAFc/LcD07bNX4dI/s1600-h/mgscan5vy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsYcT2XI/AAAAAAAAAFc/LcD07bNX4dI/s400/mgscan5vy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203022826018429298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh My, There were so many L Fangirls. Me being one of course. The screaming when he showed up was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsYcT2YI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Zi1TKqvVRfw/s1600-h/deathnote_movie1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsYcT2YI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Zi1TKqvVRfw/s400/deathnote_movie1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203022826018429314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I Must admit, Light was Hot. And a Pretty good Actor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsocT2ZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/fo32RyZKDQw/s1600-h/death-note-movie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsocT2ZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/fo32RyZKDQw/s400/death-note-movie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203022830313396626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few Shots of some of the Scenes. Overall I liked it. I wish they would have just subbed it instead of Dubbed but whatever. The 'making of' after was epic and I'll have to see the second one in theaters too. Ryuk was Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTYP4cT2WI/AAAAAAAAAFU/UbyCW2hU-Ms/s1600-h/1207464969525.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTYP4cT2WI/AAAAAAAAAFU/UbyCW2hU-Ms/s400/1207464969525.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203021236880529762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody Brought up a good point today, People don't tell each other they're awesome enough anymore. So here, have this picture and... You're Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am STILL exhausted. Even though I've been taking naps all week and going to bed earlier than normal. It's been going on like this all week. Unfortunately I have to go to Tahatchapi this weekend so I cant sleep constantly, As i need to work on Cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7349768364143642395?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7349768364143642395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7349768364143642395' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7349768364143642395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7349768364143642395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/death-note-awesomeness-and-sleepy.html' title='Death Note, Awesomeness, and Sleepy'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SDTZsYcT2XI/AAAAAAAAAFc/LcD07bNX4dI/s72-c/mgscan5vy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-464758692642522102</id><published>2008-05-20T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T16:28:55.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes</title><content type='html'>So I read through the first two Wild Adapter books again and pulled some quotes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Come on, old man. Even if I was cheating, you're still a loser for not catching me at it. Those are the rules of the world, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"It was him or me, and I always choose me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Well, skill alone won't help you in a fighting game, They're simulations, You know? What will your opponent do next? How will he counter your attack? If you can figure out his habits and timing and move based on that, you'll win, right? Whether it's Mahjong, cards, or a boxing match, it's the same thing. Because you're playing a human, your opponent has a personality. He's objective, emotional. So... That's why I'm not good at games like pachinko where there's no human opponent."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"The more human we become, the more animalistic we are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"If you're going to put your hand on someone else's snake, you can't complain when you get bitten."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- -"So do you fear women... Or hate them?"&lt;br /&gt;  -"Neither, I'm just not interested in them."&lt;br /&gt;  -"Then what about men?"&lt;br /&gt;  -"Not particularly."&lt;br /&gt;  -"People?"&lt;br /&gt;  -"Not particularly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"This Makoto Kubota had no logic to him, I thought. Interested in nothing, yet fiercely curious about everything. Acts like he doesn't care, but with so much desire in his eyes. Only caring for himself, but completely masochistic. Needing nothing, clinging to everything. Chaos existing inside tight order... all those fevered colors merging into black... and disappearing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"His personality is... unknown."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Two big-time yakuza, digging a hole in a park at sunset... I wonder how that looked to people passing by."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"The important decisions, we make instantaneously." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Quotes that were on my MSN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Human lives were all dreams. They started and ended and started again like an endless loop in which lives were meaningless."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"There is no reason to mourn the gone bright sky when we can dye the color we desire ourselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought someones favorite quotes reflected on their personality, Whatever... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll add more randomly to other posts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-464758692642522102?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/464758692642522102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=464758692642522102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/464758692642522102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/464758692642522102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/quotes.html' title='Quotes'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4613315068176878312</id><published>2008-05-18T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T19:48:04.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Party!</title><content type='html'>Man, It's getting hot out. 102 the past two days. I can't stand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got up at 7 yesterday to do a 5 mile walk to protest AIDS and Poverty, Had lunch at burger king, then went home and set up for the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Party was a blast, thanks for everyone who came for making it such. And of course thanks for the presents! Now to list everyone who came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephano&lt;br /&gt;Kerwin&lt;br /&gt;Justin&lt;br /&gt;Prances&lt;br /&gt;Brendan&lt;br /&gt;Dakota&lt;br /&gt;Smity&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;br /&gt;Sarah Beth&lt;br /&gt;Nikki&lt;br /&gt;Michelle&lt;br /&gt;Paige&lt;br /&gt;Margarita&lt;br /&gt;Caitlin&lt;br /&gt;Tarren&lt;br /&gt;Amanda(Jew)&lt;br /&gt;Grace&lt;br /&gt;Autumn&lt;br /&gt;Woody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ya all. Happy Belated Birthday Smity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I woke up, cleaned a bit, and went to the mall. (I mean, I got money, why not spend it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bought MGS 1 2 and 3 and two Manga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good days, now to work on my Art and Journal Project&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4613315068176878312?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4613315068176878312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4613315068176878312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4613315068176878312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4613315068176878312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/party.html' title='Party!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-7517193940862143472</id><published>2008-05-15T20:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:40:33.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday</title><content type='html'>Yup, Birthday was fun. Milham had a sale, got cake at school, and enchiladas after school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;List of what I got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speed Racer Snap Model.&lt;br /&gt;Plushie Black Knight.&lt;br /&gt;R/C Pirates vs. Ninja.&lt;br /&gt;25 dollar iTunes gift card.&lt;br /&gt;BBC Robin Hood Series.&lt;br /&gt;Scrolling Name tag.&lt;br /&gt;Train Pocket Watch thing.&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;New Headphones. Lets hope I don't break these.&lt;br /&gt;PS3.&lt;br /&gt;Rock Band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family played rock band. My mom on drums, Dad on guitar and me singing... I find this rather weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love and peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-7517193940862143472?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/7517193940862143472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=7517193940862143472' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7517193940862143472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/7517193940862143472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/birthday.html' title='Birthday'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1813525732347048844</id><published>2008-05-14T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T22:19:04.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Adapter</title><content type='html'>Birthday Tomorrow. Can not wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I bought the 5th Volume to my Current Favorite Manga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvCGS67c2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/Rv_RpCH2JwY/s1600-h/51yEin%2BKcpL._SS500_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvCGS67c2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/Rv_RpCH2JwY/s400/51yEin%2BKcpL._SS500_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200463608143377250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the same person who did Saiyuki, Another extremely Epic Manga. So this Post is Dedicated to Her works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ones I've read- Honey Comb, Bus Gamer, Saiyuki and Wild Adapter (as well as the AU spinoff of WA, Executive Committee).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needa go fishing through all my Manga By Her. (Currently have Wild Adapter 1-5, Saiyuki 1-9, and Saiyuki Reload 1-6. Need Bus Gamer) She has pretty epic quotes in her manga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chryystal still has Saiyuki 1 and 2, might have to nom her face off if I don't get those back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvGTy67c4I/AAAAAAAAAE8/Ps9FflqKzz4/s1600-h/Salty+Dog+2+p75.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvGTy67c4I/AAAAAAAAAE8/Ps9FflqKzz4/s400/Salty+Dog+2+p75.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200468238118122370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;From Honey Comb, Eye patches are Following me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvGUS67c5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/tPHvrbxhRZI/s1600-h/Salty+Dog+2+p78.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvGUS67c5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/tPHvrbxhRZI/s400/Salty+Dog+2+p78.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200468246708056978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't know who this is... But I approve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvF0y67c3I/AAAAAAAAAE0/9uoCg7dklk4/s1600-h/Salty+Dog+2+p65.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvF0y67c3I/AAAAAAAAAE0/9uoCg7dklk4/s400/Salty+Dog+2+p65.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200467705542177650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bus Gamer Boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly from the four or five artbooks by Kazuya I have on my computer none of them have any Wild Adapter Fanart. How disappointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvHjC67c6I/AAAAAAAAAFM/__LUXCl4bUI/s1600-h/1206507472360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvHjC67c6I/AAAAAAAAAFM/__LUXCl4bUI/s400/1206507472360.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200469599622755234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The One Picture I can find on my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1813525732347048844?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1813525732347048844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1813525732347048844' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1813525732347048844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1813525732347048844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/wild-adapter.html' title='Wild Adapter'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCvCGS67c2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/Rv_RpCH2JwY/s72-c/51yEin%2BKcpL._SS500_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-9106519957855942224</id><published>2008-05-12T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T21:22:16.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Motivation</title><content type='html'>So, I'm actually motived to do my art project. (A new one, I'm going to do the Nero arm in class for participation credit and to help out Justin, and will turn in with him if i don't get this one done.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unfortunate part is that I was gonna use a picture of Nikki as my base picture to work on, but I don't have one in the right pose I need, and my camera is dead, so alas. I'll probably have to find a different thing to use if I want to start this tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of using some of the very dramatic tunnel pictures from the visit to the aqueduct I took with Grace. That might work out just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, The first part of our chem final was today, I think I did alright. And I also think I've got Mrs. Lebeau the first to postpone our math final until next week, which is an amazing thought because that means I will only have 2 Finals this week instead of 3, though I will be testing every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found my wrapped presents in the Toy Room today, I most definitely want to open them and see what they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 More days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need to start tormenting my mom to exercise more again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-'nuff ranting for now, Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End note: Nikki! You'll do fine on your AP test tomorrow, So will Margarita. You guys should both stop stressing. Go to bed before 12 or I'll have to run over to your house and kick your ass. Lebeau said so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-9106519957855942224?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/9106519957855942224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=9106519957855942224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9106519957855942224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/9106519957855942224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/motivation.html' title='Motivation'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1702385810702617256</id><published>2008-05-11T20:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T21:10:45.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies and Pictures</title><content type='html'>So Mary Poppins is on... And I'm watching it. Must say, It's very corny. Especially the graphics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A random quote that makes me smile: "Believe those who are seeking the truth; doubt those who find it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched a movie called The First Wives Club today, it was actually really funny, I'd watch it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided around Halloween this year I'm just gonna sit around and watch Horrorfest all day, so many horror movies. All i need is my popcorn and some soda and I'll be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Iron Man with Chinese Subtitles, odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I slept for 13 hours on Friday to Saturday, at least 9 hours on Saturday to Sunday... and I'm still exhausted, not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Grace and I went exploring around the Aqueduct last week, and we got some pictures. Thought I'd share them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-IC67czI/AAAAAAAAAEU/IcPIsEMBi3s/s1600-h/DSC00404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-IC67czI/AAAAAAAAAEU/IcPIsEMBi3s/s400/DSC00404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199333340254794546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-Ii67c0I/AAAAAAAAAEc/KVW9UqkTFEQ/s1600-h/DSC00406.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-Ii67c0I/AAAAAAAAAEc/KVW9UqkTFEQ/s400/DSC00406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199333348844729154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dramatic Walking Pictures are Dramatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-Iy67c1I/AAAAAAAAAEk/vGeuSZ-1BYo/s1600-h/DSC00407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-Iy67c1I/AAAAAAAAAEk/vGeuSZ-1BYo/s400/DSC00407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199333353139696466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8Uy67cuI/AAAAAAAAADs/Yx98_5t7o-Q/s1600-h/DSC00385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8Uy67cuI/AAAAAAAAADs/Yx98_5t7o-Q/s400/DSC00385.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199331360274871010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Grace Kept taking pictures of me at the most random times. How do I shot web?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8VC67cvI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OmXZ2iLGwQE/s1600-h/DSC00391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8VC67cvI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OmXZ2iLGwQE/s400/DSC00391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199331364569838322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8Vi67cwI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oV-7418MPfw/s1600-h/DSC00396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8Vi67cwI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oV-7418MPfw/s400/DSC00396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199331373159772930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I look like a Man... ah well, such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8Vy67cxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3pAtTod7JEI/s1600-h/DSC00401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8Vy67cxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3pAtTod7JEI/s400/DSC00401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199331377454740242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8WC67cyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Hpf_M5NavCA/s1600-h/DSC00402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe8WC67cyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Hpf_M5NavCA/s400/DSC00402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199331381749707554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1702385810702617256?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1702385810702617256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1702385810702617256' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1702385810702617256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1702385810702617256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/movies-and-pictures.html' title='Movies and Pictures'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCe-IC67czI/AAAAAAAAAEU/IcPIsEMBi3s/s72-c/DSC00404.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3101980119318009981</id><published>2008-05-10T21:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T21:50:50.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chem, Garfield, Neku and Random</title><content type='html'>5 days until my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nikki Was Over Teaching me chem today... She used my tablet so I got copies of the chem notes she decided to write. If anyone wants to try to decipher these, you can heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5eKBphDI/AAAAAAAAADc/1Culf-S3bdc/s1600-h/Peridoc+Trends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5eKBphDI/AAAAAAAAADc/1Culf-S3bdc/s400/Peridoc+Trends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976378840122418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5eKBphEI/AAAAAAAAADk/8WGCWsW7IGc/s1600-h/More+chem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5eKBphEI/AAAAAAAAADk/8WGCWsW7IGc/s400/More+chem.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976378840122434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SaBpg-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/k6B-ljvddRU/s1600-h/Condensation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SaBpg-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/k6B-ljvddRU/s400/Condensation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976176976659426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SaBpg_I/AAAAAAAAAC8/h3DatVt2X4I/s1600-h/Equilibrium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SaBpg_I/AAAAAAAAAC8/h3DatVt2X4I/s400/Equilibrium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976176976659442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SqBphAI/AAAAAAAAADE/RVAoh0l2Yl4/s1600-h/Gasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SqBphAI/AAAAAAAAADE/RVAoh0l2Yl4/s400/Gasses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976181271626754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SqBphCI/AAAAAAAAADU/-hkXIQk222s/s1600-h/Redox.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SqBphCI/AAAAAAAAADU/-hkXIQk222s/s400/Redox.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976181271626786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was messing with my tablet, so have a very crappy drawing of Neku... Didn't feel like drawing hands... I hate Hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SqBphBI/AAAAAAAAADM/ep7JPVQlGQw/s1600-h/Gar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5SqBphBI/AAAAAAAAADM/ep7JPVQlGQw/s400/Gar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198976181271626770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Garfield Constructor comic on 4chan the other day, forgot to save the link but I liked this one. I got&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ426Bpg9I/AAAAAAAAACs/LUHdusAkXnE/s1600-h/crappy+Neku.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ426Bpg9I/AAAAAAAAACs/LUHdusAkXnE/s400/crappy+Neku.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198975704530256850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Raiders of the Lost Arc on USA, good movie, not really paying attention though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My art Projects going to be kickass... I'm making Nero's arm (hopefully)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3101980119318009981?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3101980119318009981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3101980119318009981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3101980119318009981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3101980119318009981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/chem-garfield-neku-and-random.html' title='Chem, Garfield, Neku and Random'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCZ5eKBphDI/AAAAAAAAADc/1Culf-S3bdc/s72-c/Peridoc+Trends.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-4010947926633107933</id><published>2008-05-09T20:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T20:57:59.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Speed Racer</title><content type='html'>This Movie was Quite Possible one of the most epic movies in existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCUcJ6Bpg7I/AAAAAAAAACM/kY8K0Bz5Jxk/s1600-h/racerX.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCUcJ6Bpg7I/AAAAAAAAACM/kY8K0Bz5Jxk/s400/racerX.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198592301389677490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Racer X was Hot, I mean... His Ass was Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCUcJ6Bpg8I/AAAAAAAAACU/y3nNF1s8u7s/s1600-h/20070510_Rain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCUcJ6Bpg8I/AAAAAAAAACU/y3nNF1s8u7s/s400/20070510_Rain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198592301389677506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain was gorgeous, and Is gorgeous.... Though I wish there was more shots of the hot guy with white hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who saw it with me... Nikki, Jew, Jew's Family, Woody, Prances, and Kerwin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough ranting, as that movie gave me a headache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Peace 6 Days Until my Birthday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-4010947926633107933?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/4010947926633107933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=4010947926633107933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4010947926633107933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/4010947926633107933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/speed-racer.html' title='Speed Racer'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCUcJ6Bpg7I/AAAAAAAAACM/kY8K0Bz5Jxk/s72-c/racerX.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1317628506997198338</id><published>2008-05-06T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T00:22:22.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo Editing</title><content type='html'>Is it sad that I waited until Midnight so I didn't blog twice in the same day? I think it is, but anyway... to the point.&lt;br /&gt;I found out that photobucket has an editing program in it now, allowing you to do all sorts of effects with it. So i took a picture that I actually liked of me and messed with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The original, other than fixing red eye:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blueprint: I think it's sad that I thought I could change the color of this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neon: Was red, changed to green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Popart: My Favorite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/MeBish-san-1-2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I could somehow incorporate this into my Art workbook, glee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is an unfortunate lack of text in this post, so I'll tack on some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Chaotic Neutral (I guess 'strongly Chaotic Neutral' if you Wiki it)&lt;br /&gt;The quiz: http://64.223.12.31/dnd/article2.asp?x=dnd/dx20001222x \&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Chaotic Neutral is called the "Anarchist" or "Free Spirit" alignment. A character of this alignment is an individualist who follows his or her own heart, shirks rules and traditions. They typically act out of self-interest, but do not enjoy seeing others suffer. Many adventurers are of this alignment.&lt;br /&gt;An unusual subset of Chaotic Neutral is "strongly Chaotic Neutral", describing a character who behaves chaotically to the point of appearing insane. Characters of this type may regularly change their appearance and attitudes for the sake of change, and intentionally disrupt organizations for the sole reason of disrupting a Lawful construct."&lt;br /&gt;-Wikipedia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm a bit Neutral evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCAHBa1ilTI/AAAAAAAAACE/BcQHMdhRWHQ/s1600-h/1202426692361.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCAHBa1ilTI/AAAAAAAAACE/BcQHMdhRWHQ/s400/1202426692361.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197161690950702386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might have to click the thumbnail for an actual view. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-So it's 12:06 and sleep time now, or in about half an our, Peace out. 9 Days left&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1317628506997198338?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1317628506997198338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1317628506997198338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1317628506997198338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1317628506997198338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/photo-editing.html' title='Photo Editing'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SCAHBa1ilTI/AAAAAAAAACE/BcQHMdhRWHQ/s72-c/1202426692361.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-1978130695938949739</id><published>2008-05-05T22:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T23:33:03.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas</title><content type='html'>I came across pictures from my vacation in Texas, So i thought I'd post a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_6z61ilOI/AAAAAAAAABc/FSK0jZVB_vE/s1600-h/IMG_0047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_6z61ilOI/AAAAAAAAABc/FSK0jZVB_vE/s320/IMG_0047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197148264882935010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otters are so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_60K1ilPI/AAAAAAAAABk/EVbnkIhUJWY/s1600-h/IMG_0052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_60K1ilPI/AAAAAAAAABk/EVbnkIhUJWY/s320/IMG_0052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197148269177902322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owlie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_60q1ilQI/AAAAAAAAABs/EAU_yUBZbs0/s1600-h/IMG_0055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_60q1ilQI/AAAAAAAAABs/EAU_yUBZbs0/s320/IMG_0055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197148277767836930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Lion was ANNOYED, could hear him all the way from our hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_6061ilRI/AAAAAAAAAB0/RxMGXLHR5QU/s1600-h/IMG_0078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_6061ilRI/AAAAAAAAAB0/RxMGXLHR5QU/s320/IMG_0078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197148282062804242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother asked me to take this picture, it amused me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_7aa1ilSI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-4CT86rl_JM/s1600-h/IMG_0113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_7aa1ilSI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-4CT86rl_JM/s320/IMG_0113.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197148926307898658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, A picture of my nerd shelf, about 2 months ago. It definitely doesn't look that way anymore, really messy, more things needed to be added,&lt;br /&gt;re-alphabatize my manga. That stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news... I'm off to see Iron Man again tomorrow with Nikki, Paige, Grace, Webster and Woody (The only ones we know for sure are Nikki and Woody...) and then Taco Tuesday at my house right after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mothers day is on the 11th, I need to figure out what I'm going to get my mom. I talked her into buying me Harold and Kumar go to White Castle today, and a new PS2 memory card of my very own. Still hoping for that PS3 for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're reading No Exit in English, so far I like the play, Estelle's a bit bitchy though, Garcin is too wordy and the Valet is only there for 10 pages... I think I'll play the lesbian, even if it means I'll have to flirt with who plays Estelle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-10 days until my birthday, Happy cinco de mayo everybody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-1978130695938949739?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/1978130695938949739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=1978130695938949739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1978130695938949739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/1978130695938949739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/texas.html' title='Texas'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_6z61ilOI/AAAAAAAAABc/FSK0jZVB_vE/s72-c/IMG_0047.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-8848455796757585723</id><published>2008-05-04T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T22:02:30.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plans</title><content type='html'>Over the summer Woody and I have decided to dedicate weeks to Hot Actors.&lt;br /&gt;So Far we have :&lt;br /&gt;David Tennant&lt;br /&gt;David Bowie&lt;br /&gt;Robert Downey Jr.&lt;br /&gt;John Cusack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need at least one more, or else we'll have an anime week I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go to England this summer. In July, for this reason:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/?action=view&amp;amp;current=aab_sized.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/aab_sized.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; David Tennant is Playing Hamlet. Amazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Proof that women are attracted to men who look like their fathers (I haven't found one looking like my dad yet):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/?action=view&amp;amp;current=aaa_sized.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/aaa_sized.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If You've seen Woody's Father, you know what I'm talking about. Yeah, That's David Tennant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other news, I finished The World Ends With You yesterday, well, the main story at least. It was an amazing game, only think I could even think to complain about would be that there is only one save file, which isn't a huge issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/?action=view&amp;amp;current=robert_downey_jr____not_my_pic_by_m.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/robert_downey_jr____not_my_pic_by_m.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And another Robert Downey Jr. Picture&lt;br /&gt;Robert Downey Jr. Can SING, It's amazing, I got his CD on my iPod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-8848455796757585723?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/8848455796757585723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=8848455796757585723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8848455796757585723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/8848455796757585723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/plans.html' title='Plans'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2645239979927769318.post-3378216033848169634</id><published>2008-05-02T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T23:16:40.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Hmmm... I've Started A Blog... Most Interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The font in this is rather boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was epic. Not that school was epic, far from it actually, but right after school was epic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We (Prances, Smity, Woody, Autumn, Jew and I) went to see Iron Man at 4:50, where I discovered my new obsession: Robert Downey Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/?action=view&amp;amp;current=e042911A.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/e042911A.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/?action=view&amp;amp;current=iron_man_movie_tonystark_first_look.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/Thatz4life/iron_man_movie_tonystark_first_look.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody And I spent the entire time in that movie fangirling over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to round table pizza, where the really bad puns and sexual innuendos started.&lt;br /&gt;Woody told me to pull out a hair that was sticking straight up and I kept saying no, and she kept telling me to pull it out. so i told her she'd never say that to Robert Downey Jr. and after laughing hysterically for 5 minutes she high fived me and there was spit on her hand, ewwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out today that the movies are showing the Death Note Movie on the 20th and 21st, I think I'll go on the 20th, less people likely to go on a Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many good movies are coming out soon. Speed Racer, Incredible Hulk, Hell Boy 2, Mike Myers and Adam Sandler movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Kerwin for the Blog name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2645239979927769318-3378216033848169634?l=zettaslow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/feeds/3378216033848169634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2645239979927769318&amp;postID=3378216033848169634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3378216033848169634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2645239979927769318/posts/default/3378216033848169634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zettaslow.blogspot.com/2008/05/first-post.html' title='First Post'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07826743680478260154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_m_sIEE0RGMY/SB_t361ilLI/AAAAAAAAABE/cJaS7bAuVp8/S220/IMG_0112.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
