<?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-7353815509359041372</id><updated>2012-02-16T21:59:35.735-05:00</updated><category term='collage'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='children'/><category term='tunes'/><category term='man-trouble'/><category term='infection'/><category term='SC'/><category term='melody'/><category term='boys'/><category term='college'/><category term='music'/><category term='poll'/><category term='freshman'/><category term='harmony'/><category term='bffs'/><category term='dog'/><category term='help'/><category term='camp'/><category term='easy'/><category term='symphony'/><category term='hookups'/><category term='Fanfiction'/><category term='options'/><category term='not dead'/><category term='Story'/><category term='Aurelia Carlisle'/><category term='SpuffyRealm'/><category term='biopsy'/><category term='newlove'/><category term='baby'/><category term='casserole'/><category term='food'/><category term='amputation'/><category term='hashbrowns'/><category term='banquet'/><category term='miscarriage'/><category term='BtVS'/><category term='Matt'/><category term='mom'/><category term='fiction'/><category term='update'/><category term='tennis'/><title type='text'>This Week In Aurelian</title><subtitle type='html'>Your place to find out just what's going on in that pretty head of mine.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-435230222533273583</id><published>2011-05-23T02:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T02:09:04.222-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='newlove'/><title type='text'>Fourth's the Best</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;After helping out with Sunday school and taking a long nap, I went out with my friends Matt, Taylor, Cristen, Ashley and Liz. We waited out a monsterous storm out a local park and as we left I told Taylor something I'd only just admitted to myself: I am incredibly hot for Matt. She advised not to try anything thing yet, since he just got out of a (however short) relationship. Just because friends give great advice doesn't mean I'm likely to follow through with it.&lt;br /&gt;So when Matt and I are sitting on Ashley's living room couch later we end up fooling around under a tacky leopard-print. Our company was none the wiser, intrigued (and a little turned on) by Mrs. Jolie-Pitt's portrayal of a sodium-rich Russian spy.&lt;br /&gt;Afterward Liz was incredibly shady and secretive, going off to whisper things to one or two people outside. I felt like I was doing a walk of shamelessness. Yeah, so I engaged in mutual groping on a friend's couch, who the eff hasn't? Later, everyone else was inside the appartment when Matt spun me around by the arm and kissed me. My surprise may have affected my kissing ability, but he didn't seem to mind. I feel so comfortable around him and that is a new feeling for me. We have known each other since our private school junior high days; there are few people I trust more. He knows all of the ugly details of &lt;em&gt;that year&lt;/em&gt; but still he stays around me, a constant I won't soon let go.&lt;br /&gt;As Matt left I grabbed his ass out of everyone's view. He turned back soon (forgot his keys, what a dork) and on his second trip to his car, he returned the grab. He gets my humor; I am shocked I never thought of being with him before now. In my defense, he was a man's man until recently. Oddly enough, when I promised myself that I would not be a virgin into my third decade, I imagined losing it to him.&lt;br /&gt;We have made plans to hang out after he gets out of school tomorrow (he's not &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; much younger than me). I may break out the sexy lingerie for this. I guess we will find out tomorrow... :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-435230222533273583?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/435230222533273583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=435230222533273583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/435230222533273583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/435230222533273583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2011/05/fourths-best.html' title='Fourth&apos;s the Best'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-1029617297384461418</id><published>2011-05-05T04:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T05:38:17.498-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not dead'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hookups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bffs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='update'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Relax People, I'm back.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Three long years and one BFF later, I am still alive. I'm in college now and I am a volunteer deejay at an awesome student run radio station and (fingers crossed) close to dating a fellow deejay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, the crazed fan!girl has grown up (and shrunk, more on that later), but I am still writing, but +gasp+ I have changed fandoms. It happens and I'm really glad it did. It's hard to write fanfiction for a show long past its prime and virtually off air.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to my friend Katy, who forced me to watch Supernatural ("C'mon, one episode won't kill you. Believe me, I'm doing you a ginormo favor!"). As you can imagine, she was right and I've cranked out a few fics [one I tried to use for GSA (don't do it, they're fanfic haters)] that I have varying pride in and I post them on my livejournal page (yes, it also just won't die). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So much has happened in the last three years, so I'll just give you the bare (tehe) minimum:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;As recently as this January I am BFFless and loving it. My former platonic wifey spent more time criticizing my every move than actually appreciating the awesomeness of moi. (Sounds flippant now, but I've spent everyday since then getting over our 5 year long distance domestic friendship.) Looking back I think we were what the other needed for that transitional time in our lives and only held on to our treadbare relationship out of obligation (me) and self-gratification (her). I was an available punching bag with low selfesteem and she was the boxer that beats that bag long past her hands are bleeding. Sure, I was at fault for a few things, but I'll leave you to decide by reading her account [if I can every find or read it (without my brain exploding from sheer overload of bullshit)].&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After a long fight, Belle (my darling canine companion through the dark days of depression and healing) lost her battle with cancer. In January of 2009, the cancer was so terrible she couldn't even walk. We let her sleep one day after a long drive through the country. She was comforting us to the end, despite her unbearable pain. I still regret everyday that I didn't play with her or just pet her. Though I know I could not have stopped the cancer, I still blame myself at times for not noticing her limp sooner. I know now that she is happier where she is and is comforting all of those other loved ones who have left for their eternal home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One long and sad month after Belle died, Mom and I were feeling the loneliness she had left in her absence. We decided, to my dad's short lived chagrin, that we needed another dog. We found Malcolm within an hour of the shelter's submission. The Cockapoo is now a furryhyperloud welcome addition to my growing family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Growing? My sister and her husband descovered she was pregnant around the time Marz and I parted ways. They immediately decided, to the relief of my parents, to marry and raise the child with all the love and support their crazy hearts could muster. Tomorrow my mom will help them in their continued search for a duplex big and clean enough for the three of them. Since the news was spoken, Katie has been so mature, and level-headed but most of all happy. After several heartbreaks and set backs, she found the love of her life and is building a great life with him. I cannot wait to tell Miranda LaSha Lewellen of her mother's notorious wild days and how a tiny baby bean helped her turn her life around. Miranda will be here in late September, hopefully before Katie's 22nd birthday&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On an incredibly personal note (perks of writing under a pseudonym), I have come closer to baby making myself (process of, not intent to). Yes, one crazy Thanksgiving eve I snuck into my first gay bar, attended my first drag show, and went to second base. After years of swearing I'd never +insert sexual act here+ with someone I wasn't dating or in love with, my libido got the best of me and stuff happened. First the happening occurred with *Alan, my cousin's friend who convinced her he took my virginity (psht, wishful thinking doth not truth make) then with RA *Lance, the manslut of *Tower Dorm. It was one of those situations in which I really liked him until I got to know him, then I wish I didn't. Now he is at basic training somewhere in NJ, and I am left with his other hookups glaring and generally disliking me for the sheer fact that we sucked the same Popsicle. At one point, I had a conversation whilst standing in line for pasta with fellow deejay, *Hallie. We discussed our frustrations concerning our respective (not respectable) males, who unknowningly was not plural. Yes +gasp+ she sucked said Popsicle, too. This makes me think of the sex partner web Alice made on The L Word (which I just started watching with my lesbian friends). Let's just say the dude's a hub in a beyond gross way. There was another hookup that I won't talk about because I am grossed out by the memory and will deny it to my end.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I mentioned earlier that I shrunk: a medication (makes me sound nuts, but that's what it's called) caused me to gain weight like a Calteen bar (props for those who know wtf I'm speaking of). I lost about half of what I'd gained within months, but have recently dropped more. I can actually hook my bra on the first clasp now! Small victory, but I'm proud nonetheless.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;College makes my high school experience look like that the hell it was. I love it here at my university, just not the 3 hour (2 hour, with my driving) distance from home and Malcolm.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-1029617297384461418?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/1029617297384461418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=1029617297384461418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1029617297384461418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1029617297384461418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2011/05/relax-people-im-back.html' title='Relax People, I&apos;m back.'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-9088074971920552928</id><published>2008-10-15T19:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T20:11:43.967-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Last week I was feeling in need of advice...</title><content type='html'>Unlike many of my fellow BtVS fans, in times of trouble I find myself asking &lt;strong&gt;WWSD:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;hat &lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;ould &lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt;pike &lt;strong&gt;D&lt;/strong&gt;o?&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know who that is you probably shouldn't be reading my blog but w/e...&lt;br /&gt;So instead of pondering the subject forever (and ever and ever and ever...) I went straight to the source. Here was the Convo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Spike,&lt;br /&gt;I have liked the same guy for almost a year now and STILL don't have the guts to tell him. One day last week, I'd had enough and I told two of our mutual friends to, you know, talk about how great I am, plant the idea of 'us' in his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My male friend that I told, somehow got the idea that I wanted to talk to him myself and told him so. I'm rather shy around people I like, so the talking to him would be a catastrophe; a babbling nightmare (and not the fun post-apocalypse ones). What should I do when he talks to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your harlot,&lt;br /&gt;Tongue-tied"&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;a href="http://floo-symptoms.livejournal.com/profile"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://floo-symptoms.livejournal.com/"&gt;floo_symptoms&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Tongue-tied,&lt;br /&gt;Oh pet…I get that sometimes it can be hard to talk to the people you fancy (er, you know, without calling them a bitch or insulting their hair)…Don’t worry. I’ve got the perfect solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(First of all, kick your injut friend in the nuts for putting you in the difficult position in the first place).&lt;br /&gt;When it comes time to talk to this fella, just…put your tongue to better use. Instead of chatting, just snog him. Then you won’t have to worry about talking (‘cause your mouth will be full) and chances are that he’ll get the message that you like him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours smugly,&lt;br /&gt;Spike."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-9088074971920552928?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/9088074971920552928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=9088074971920552928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/9088074971920552928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/9088074971920552928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/10/last-week-i-was-feeling-in-need-of.html' title='Last week I was feeling in need of advice...'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-1465753732160010375</id><published>2008-10-14T20:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T20:52:06.096-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='man-trouble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poll'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='options'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='help'/><title type='text'>So I was walking to my fifth class today when...</title><content type='html'>My friend (and mutual friend of Joe, my potential man-candy) Tiffany came up to me and told me she talked to Joe.&lt;br /&gt;My first reaction? :&lt;br /&gt;Holyshit! Is he here? Is he watching this? How's my hair? Staycalm-staycalm-staycalm.....&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What did he say?!"&lt;br /&gt;Tiff: "He said he knows who you are," (no shit tiffany) "I told him that you were interested..."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "WHAT?!" +everyone in hallway turns toward us+"I mean, +whispers+ WHAT?"&lt;br /&gt;Tiff: "Well you didn't have the stones to do it; someone had to."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod..."&lt;br /&gt;Tiff: "It's fine, A. He didn't look disgusted or anything."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well, that makes me feel sooooo much better," +sarcasm, of course+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...yeah. I'm not used to doing the actual asking. Usually, in a relationship, it just happens. Me and the guy in question would already be friends or he asked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not good with rejection. Sure, when they have said no, I just so "Okay, that's cool."I really mean, "Okay, I'll just go back home and cry now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea where to go from here. I stopped dating for a reason! I'm NOT good at it. My friends? Pros, not skanky, but dating experts and they can't even give some input.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking over the possibilities earlier and I came up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tell him face to face that I think he's great and that I'm (very) interested.&lt;br /&gt;-Find him in the hall and jump him. tehe&lt;br /&gt;-Hang (group setting) around him so he can see for himself if he likes me.&lt;br /&gt;-Least favorite: keep letting Tiffany send messages back and forth like middle school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So I ask you, trusted friends of my Blogger: What are my options? What do I do now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-1465753732160010375?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/1465753732160010375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=1465753732160010375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1465753732160010375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1465753732160010375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-was-walking-to-my-fifth-class.html' title='So I was walking to my fifth class today when...'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-8531329108956494031</id><published>2008-08-27T19:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T19:44:42.769-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fanfiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aurelia Carlisle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SpuffyRealm'/><title type='text'>My Stories and where you can find them....</title><content type='html'>This is where my stories are so far. They are updated as often as I can do it. Don't get pissy if I miss like a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://spikeluver.com/SpuffyRealm/viewuser.php?uid=3320"&gt;http://spikeluver.com/SpuffyRealm/viewuser.php?uid=3320&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-8531329108956494031?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/8531329108956494031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=8531329108956494031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8531329108956494031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8531329108956494031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-stories-and-where-you-can-find-them.html' title='My Stories and where you can find them....'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-9148444319668238942</id><published>2008-08-27T19:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T19:27:18.918-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Fret, Kiddies! I'm Not Dead, Yet!</title><content type='html'>After a looooooong much-needed hiatus from my blog, I am back. Just gotta few updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Belle got through her operation (leg-amputaion) fine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My sister finally moved out with her boyfriend. I now have hot water.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Half of my classes are honors and they're easier than my regular 2% classes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a new neighbor. She's only been here 3 weeks and she's got a boyfriend. I've lived here for nearly nine years and have I gotten any action? Negative.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am making a film version of Melissa Marr's &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wicked Lovely&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and have casted most of the roles. I start filming the carnival scene at the Spoonbread Festival, which, I've come to find out, &lt;em&gt;does&lt;/em&gt; have rides.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am currently working on 3, yes trois, fics and not one is close to finished.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have only had contact from my muse during the night hours. Damn stokes of genius turning me into an insomniac!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am re-arranging my room yet again. I like my bed under the slant in the ceiling, it's home-y.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I found another Browncoat at my school. I'm not alone anymore.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Can't talk to Talon because someone stole her phone. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've lost 15 pounds due to a medication adjustment. Thank God for pharmicuticals (sp?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My friend, Mary just had her son Kiandre, and no, they're not black. Go figure.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My professor is on maternity leave because apparently everyone but me was screwing nine months ago.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My creepy neighbor won't stop calling or coming over uninvited. He has an effing girlfriend.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am very lonely romantically that I'm close to ruining a good friendship just so i'm not by myself for the rest of my pathetic life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm going to England again this coming summer from mid-July to early August. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wanna kidnap Talon and put her in my carry on. I barely survived last time w/o her.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I need more sets for WL, siriusly. (Yes, I did mean to spell it like that, dammit.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm joining the archery team/club/group/thing because I am fierce with a bow. Take that Keira Knightley!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My clothes fit again! hip hip HOORAY!!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; So there you have it. The big damn update. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-9148444319668238942?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/9148444319668238942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=9148444319668238942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/9148444319668238942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/9148444319668238942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/08/dont-fret-kiddies-im-not-dead-yet.html' title='Don&apos;t Fret, Kiddies! I&apos;m Not Dead, Yet!'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-607605902445897990</id><published>2008-07-05T20:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T20:15:51.446-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fanfiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SpuffyRealm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BtVS'/><title type='text'>My story</title><content type='html'>I have a mid-season five BtVS fic over at the Spuffy Realm. I warn you that this website contains some adult content, but my story is rated pg-15, so that's do-able. Go read it so far!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://spikeluver.com/SpuffyRealm/viewstory.php?sid=31449"&gt;http://spikeluver.com/SpuffyRealm/viewstory.php?sid=31449&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-607605902445897990?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/607605902445897990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=607605902445897990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/607605902445897990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/607605902445897990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-story.html' title='My story'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-1424732713246026013</id><published>2008-07-02T19:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T19:15:33.460-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amputation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='biopsy'/><title type='text'>Belle Update</title><content type='html'>As you probably already know, my dog has some form of cancer. Well, she went to the vet yesterday and they took yet another biopsy. We now definitely know that it's not a fungal infection, which is easier to treat. We find out in a week whether she has to have her leg amputated and her life expectancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she's confused about what's happening. All that she knows is that one of her legs really hurts and her family is spoiling her with food and attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so sad. She's only five. She's so sweet; she doesn't deserve this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-1424732713246026013?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/1424732713246026013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=1424732713246026013' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1424732713246026013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1424732713246026013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/07/belle-update.html' title='Belle Update'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-1005858824722985662</id><published>2008-06-25T11:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T11:41:29.465-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fini</title><content type='html'>I finally finished that collage and it's almost as good as expected. I'm probably going to add some more words and pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I also found my driver's license, so now my dad can't yell at me about it anymore. I wish I could just drop out of this driving class. I could've taken one at my school for free. It's just ridiculus. I'm so fed up with those patronizing old men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, only one more month of their bullshit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-1005858824722985662?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/1005858824722985662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=1005858824722985662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1005858824722985662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1005858824722985662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/fini.html' title='Fini'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-4874905711116446643</id><published>2008-06-23T08:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T09:00:35.739-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ballroom Blitz</title><content type='html'>&lt;dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Ballroom Blitz &lt;p align="left"&gt;By: Aurelia Carlisle &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;         The girl was shoved to the hard concrete by strong, rough hands. Her entire body ached from being manhandled since the alley. &lt;p align="left"&gt;      She tried desperately to stop shaking, to go limp. If she stopped moving, maybe they would think she was dead, and maybe, just maybe, they would leave her alone. Looking back, the whole night had been a disaster. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    Her date, a fellow coed and total creep, asked her of her favorite sex position, her preferred form of torture and her dress size. Needless to say, the night had been a bust. &lt;p align="left"&gt;      She thought she was free when she began the short-cut to her dorm. She was wrong. &lt;p align="left"&gt;     The jerk tackled her in an alley, then dragged her to (what she could only guess as) an abandoned warehouse nearby. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    As she came back to the present she could hear the guy through the wall, talking to someone. &lt;p align="left"&gt;     "So, what did you think," he asked eagerly. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Well," the other began, "she &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; a bit skinny." &lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Ugh," she scoffed. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "But she’ll do, right?" he pushed, "I mean, she felt pretty spry, wiggling to get away. Might make for a fine dance partner…" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Oh, she’ll do alright," the other replied, "Did you get her measurements?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Mmhmm," he said, "She’s a size five." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Five? FIVE?!" he raged, "I told you to get her measurements not her goddamn &lt;i&gt;dress&lt;/i&gt; size!" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Maybe you shoulda been more specific, man!" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "I swear if you mess this up for me… I haven’t been in nearly a century!" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Sorry, man. I didn’t know." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Just don’t do it again…" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    What the &lt;i&gt;hell&lt;/i&gt; , she thought. Partner? And what did they need her measurements for, anyway? She gasped. What if they were going to sell her off or something? Or worse: what if they ate her? &lt;p align="left"&gt;Part One &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Mmm… yummy, greasy, ground meat-y, burger goodness!" said a very pleased Xander before diving into his sandwich. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Ugh!" moaned Willow, "How can you eat so much crap?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "What?" he defended through a mouthful of beef, "I’m a man!" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Yes he is," agreed Anya, "He’s such a man, I don’t have to worry when he wears my und-" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Hahaha," Xander laughed loudly, effectively drowning out his girlfriend, "My girl; such a kidder!" He turned to Anya "You remember what I said about secrets and how they’re less secret when my friends know them?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Know what?" asked Buffy as she took a seat next to Willow. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Nothing," yelped Xander, changing the subject. "So how’s Dawnie? Still freaked?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Pretty much," Buffy began, "Can’t say I blame her; it’s not everyday that you get handed something like this?" At their looks, she continued, "…unless you live here." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "That’s Sunnydale for ya," Willow commented, "Come for the sun, stay for the carnage." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Actually," interjected Buffy, "Patrol’s been kinda quiet lately. Neither a horn nor fang to speak of." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "All play and no work make Buffy a dull girl?" asked Xander playfully. "Wasn’t there a time when we didn’t wish for demons?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Before or after I killed my boyfriend?" she speculated sarcastically. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Both," replied Willow," Speaking of boyfriends, how are you holdin’ up?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "As well as can be expected. I’m just trying to keep myself busy, which, with this demon shortage, is failing miserably." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Don’t worry, Buffster," Xander consoled her. "You’ll find somebody." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Oh no," Buffy disagreed, "No boys for Buffy. The last thing I need is somebody else to drive away." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Come on, Buffy," encouraged Willow, "Isn’t there somebody you can see yourself with?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Spike!" Buffy growled after kicking in the crypt door, "How could you?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "What?" he asked defiantly, "What have I done to get your knickers in such a &lt;i&gt;twist&lt;/i&gt; ?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "How could you let her find out like that?" she questioned, "Do you hate me &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; much?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "You think I did that on purpose? Was kept in the dark, wasn’t I? How was I supposed to know kid sis was a sodden mystical key thing?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "You lead my little sister into town in the middle of the night. Anything could’ve happened. She could have been hurt or killed!" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "I wouldn’t’ve let anything happen to the bit, you know that! Perhaps if someone had filled me in, she wouldn’t have known at all!" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, Spike, Dawn’s actually a mystical ball of green energy’?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Well, yeah," Spike fired back, "That would’ve been- she’s green?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Apparently," she said as she plopped down into his comfy chair. "The point is, Spike…What’s this?" She picked up a piece of parchment that caught her eye. "You get mail delivered to a cemetery?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "It’s the hellmouth, Slayer. What do you expect?" he retorted snatching the paper back. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Wait," she said, "Is that an invitation?" she gasped mockingly. "You have friends?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Don’t be so surprised," he retorted, "I even have fans." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "You’re lying," she replied in utter disbelief. &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Nope," he said taking a seat facing her on a sarcophagus. "You see, Slayer, when you’ve been around as long as I have, you tend to get noticed." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Yeah," Buffy scoffed, studying her fingernails, "I wonder what they’d think of you now that you’re impotent." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "You say that, luv," he drawled dangerously, "I won’t be on this leash forever." &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "I know," she replied reluctantly. "What’s this invitation to anyways: Hemophiliacs Anonymous?" &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "No," he answered annoyed, "It’s to a ball.""A ball, huh?" she ventured, "What kind of ball?""Read it for yourself…" he said tossing it to her. She caught it and studied the elegant font on the thick parchment:&lt;b&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Ballroom Blitz 2001 &lt;p align="center"&gt;William, The Bloody (plus one), &lt;p align="center"&gt;You are cordially invited to &lt;p align="center"&gt;The 150&lt;sup&gt;th annual Ball &lt;p align="center"&gt;At Westfield Mansion &lt;p align="center"&gt;On the Fourteenth day of April &lt;p align="center"&gt;Guests are required ballroom attire &lt;p align="center"&gt;(BYOB)&lt;/b&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Hmm," she commented, handing the paper back to Spike, "sounds interesting."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "’S not your kind of party, pet, trust me."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Hey," Buffy objected. "What’s that supposed to mean?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "You wouldn’t exactly fit in, luv," he reasoned offhandedly."Oh, I see. Are they your kinda people? The mosh-pitting, punk-rocking, drunken, puke on your shoes folks?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "More like the waltzing, classical music, champagne swigging, suck your blood type."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "They’re vamps?" she asked disapprovingly. "So the 150 wasn’t a typo," at his look she rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Of course they’re vamps. Most’ve ‘em have been around since the first one. All of ‘em are older ones."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "So let me get this straight, there’s been a ginormous meeting of elder vamps every year, right under my nose?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head about, Slayer," he assured her chauvinistically. "It’s not even held in Sunnydale."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Where?"she simply asked."LA.""Do you have a date?""Well, no. I just got the invite."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Now ya do."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "No way in hell, Summers," he excalimed turing the other way, "I already get enough grief for helpin' your lot now and then. The last thing I need is the rest of the demon population thinkin' I'm your fucking lapdog!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "No laps will be involved, believe me."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-4874905711116446643?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/4874905711116446643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=4874905711116446643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/4874905711116446643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/4874905711116446643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/ballroom-blitz.html' title='Ballroom Blitz'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-1944735344461745286</id><published>2008-06-22T21:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T21:55:13.093-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='collage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miscarriage'/><title type='text'>Mended</title><content type='html'>One night last semester, I was bored so I started drawing. I had just found out that my friend, Mandy's, mom kicked her, causing her to have a miscarriage. She had finally come to terms That she was going to have this baby, and to thank me for my support, she was going to name it after me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to think of this lost life and not feel a bit confused. What kind of mother would harm their child, pregnant or not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to vent my feelings of the loss of my namesake, I created a sort of web. Everything is centered around a torn heart. Surrounding it are the things that threaten love: drugs, violence, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I found it and just stared at it for a good, long while. I decided then to make it a collage. I think I might give it to Mandy, to kind of help her with the grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I with I could have met this little girl. I wonder what's become of her, and all miscarried babies for that matter. Do they go to another family and live out their lives, or do they simply cease to exist. I hope to meet her someday, and tell her how much her would-be mom and dad love her, that I could have, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-1944735344461745286?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/1944735344461745286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=1944735344461745286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1944735344461745286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1944735344461745286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/mended.html' title='Mended'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-1237557882240947408</id><published>2008-06-22T21:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T21:39:30.252-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='banquet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tennis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Once A Loser</title><content type='html'>I lost to Addy. She went to the same tennis camp that Cindy did, so I'm not surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't win anything at the banquet, but the food was good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-1237557882240947408?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/1237557882240947408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=1237557882240947408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1237557882240947408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/1237557882240947408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/once-loser.html' title='Once A Loser'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-8487071589614921977</id><published>2008-06-22T12:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T12:31:37.948-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tennis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hashbrowns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='casserole'/><title type='text'>Victory!</title><content type='html'>I won my tennis match today. Now I just have to play the winner of Addy and Meredith's game, and I think that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my mom is making hashbrown casserole for the afterparty! I'm so Happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-8487071589614921977?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/8487071589614921977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=8487071589614921977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8487071589614921977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8487071589614921977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/victory.html' title='Victory!'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-3561256797279186860</id><published>2008-06-22T08:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T08:34:31.070-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tennis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freshman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='easy'/><title type='text'>Loser...</title><content type='html'>I lost my tennis match yesterday 2-8. Apparently (let's call her Cindy) she just came back from some uber-tennis camp in South Carolina where you run four miles every morning @ 6. The thing about Cindy is that she isn't even a freshman yet, but she's been known as being easier off the court than she is on it, or vice-versa. Oh well, I just sound petty. She's pretty nice and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I play Shauna. Coach L told me that she will be coming from a funeral to the match. I hope it doesn't affect her game. I wanna win fair and square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trophies are bobble-heads. Yipee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-3561256797279186860?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/3561256797279186860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=3561256797279186860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/3561256797279186860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/3561256797279186860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/loser.html' title='Loser...'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-8640950299203976041</id><published>2008-06-21T12:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T12:44:09.322-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='biopsy'/><title type='text'>Sick As A Dog</title><content type='html'>We found out last week that my dog, Belle, has a growth in her back-left leg. She went to get a biopsy earlier this week and we'll get the results on Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. The test results will tell us whether the growth is cancerous or a fungal infection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's cancer then my five year old (35 in dog years) dog will slowly be eaten away by the cancer.&lt;br /&gt;If it's a fungal infection then it is easily treated with anti-biotics and pain-killers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to God that it's just a fungal infection, so she can live out the rest of her long doggie life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep her in your prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-8640950299203976041?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/8640950299203976041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=8640950299203976041' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8640950299203976041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8640950299203976041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/sick-as-dog.html' title='Sick As A Dog'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-681743607095853879</id><published>2008-06-21T12:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T12:37:12.906-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tunes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='melody'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='symphony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='harmony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>New Feature!</title><content type='html'>I just posted a playlist. It's the first one I've completely filled, so i'm excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just Listen...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-681743607095853879?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/681743607095853879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=681743607095853879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/681743607095853879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/681743607095853879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-feature.html' title='New Feature!'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-3781732540222360101</id><published>2008-06-20T21:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T21:58:28.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Marzipan</title><content type='html'>hello, melady!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-3781732540222360101?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/3781732540222360101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=3781732540222360101' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/3781732540222360101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/3781732540222360101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/marzipan.html' title='Marzipan'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7353815509359041372.post-8957047299203966621</id><published>2008-06-20T21:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T07:17:20.469-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Blog: Woot Woot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I just set up this blog a couple of mintues ago. I'm not sure who I'mm gonna tell about it. It would be nice to be able to say whatever's on my mind (however odd) without judgement. Anyways, I'm just gonna set some ground rules, tell you what this blog's gonna be about. I write. A lot. Stories, songs, poetry, etc. I'm also very forgetful and I lose things a lot. So I figured, I can't misplace a blog... So I'm gonna put my stuff on here. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's it for now. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yours,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aurelia&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7353815509359041372-8957047299203966621?l=thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/feeds/8957047299203966621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7353815509359041372&amp;postID=8957047299203966621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8957047299203966621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7353815509359041372/posts/default/8957047299203966621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisweekinaurelian.blogspot.com/2008/06/first-blog-woot-woot.html' title='First Blog: Woot Woot!'/><author><name>Aurelia Carlisle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15645183712551567879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ditVaYbOIRc/TcJ0437UGEI/AAAAAAAAABg/7b99y35-Ugg/s220/redheadhaircolour.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
