<?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-8370189706323709272</id><updated>2011-10-11T14:18:07.792-07:00</updated><category term='tv'/><category term='general'/><title type='text'>i just want to see the girl happy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-7987342058112224276</id><published>2009-01-29T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T10:25:10.042-08:00</updated><title type='text'>seasons change, but people don't</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2055/21/58/1220490090/n1220490090_30145356_3119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 453px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2055/21/58/1220490090/n1220490090_30145356_3119.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The semester is getting off a slow start. A &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; slow start, but I guess I can't complain because last semester I was in way over my head and was busy 24/7 (yet still somehow managed to have a social life hah). This means that I've had to chance to get a solid start on my training for road season. Maybe I'm still somewhat enthusiastic about sitting on the trainer because I don't have literally hundreds and hundreds of hours of it under my belt like some people who have been doing this for years. Either way, I can't wait. It's really nice to have a long term goal to look forward to, and I can't wait to ride outside again. Yeah! I'm just worried that the work is going to slap me in the face as soon as road season starts and then I'll be screwed and be killing myself to finish work before we leave for the weekend or (not ideal at all) have to work on homework somehow in the hotels. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday UNH had a snow day (for some reason I didn't think Universities closed because of snow, but I guess with the amount of commuters we have it makes sense) and I had an adventure with Tricia. She taught me how to cross country ski (classic) at Kingman Farm and it was so much fun and a whole lot easier than I thought it was going to be :) I love any opportunity to be outside when I'm not freezing my ass off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS. Yes, I am rocking the lab glasses in that picture because I am just that cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-7987342058112224276?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/7987342058112224276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=7987342058112224276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/7987342058112224276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/7987342058112224276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2009/01/seasons-change-but-people-dont.html' title='seasons change, but people don&apos;t'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-638561003869229751</id><published>2009-01-12T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T19:33:36.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just happy to be alive</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;What a day yesterday was. I was going to write last night, but after everything that happened all I could do after Jeff left my house was pass out.   Ala and I left the house at 7:30 to go to Waterville Valley so I could teach her to ski. It had been snowing all night and was still snowing in the morning. The roads were snow covered but I figured the highways would be better. Anyway, driving in the snow didn't scare me, as long as you don't drive fast usually nothing bad happens. I was going to take my car (the Honda CRV) but the wipers were acting up so we took my dad's Acura Integra instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;93 North was okay in terms of plowing until we hit New Hampshire. Then it hardly looked like they treated the roads at all. We had been going about 50 but slowed down to about 30-40 miles an hour as the visibility was getting worse. We were happily listening and singing along to the Beatles and passed bridge 9 near Derry. Suddenly the air cleared out a bit and a couple hundred feet in front of me I saw 10 or so cars piled up in front of me. I hit the brakes gently so I wouldn't spin out and pressed down harder as we got closer and closer to the cars, but it was no use, we couldn't stop completely in time. I was down to maybe 5 mph when I hit one car, then not even a second later we were hit from behind by another car, and then another until we were turned sideways facing the right guard rail. I looked around to get my bearings and for a split second i thought, maybe we'll be able to drive off still... But I looked over Ala's shoulder and saw a car coming straight for her door, seemingly full speed. Maybe it was just gut instinct, I don't know, but I slammed on the gas and drove into the guard rail and the oncoming car hit our back door instead of her and the windows shattered. That last hit really got us and Ala was starting to cry and I saw her reach for her handle (her door was facing the middle of the highway). I yelled at her and told her to stop because I saw the huge red truck that we passed earlier coming towards our cluster of cars, sliding out of control. "Take off your seatbelt!" and I grabbed her hand and we crawled out our door and jumped over the guard rail and ran into the woods; our car then suffered its fourth hit by the 18-wheeler. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;I called 911 right away, then my parents, and then Jeff. It wasn't until I was on the phone with Jeff that it all started to hit me and I started crying but reiterated the fact that both Ala and I were okay. He offered to come get us but I told him to stay home because I knew it would be several hours until we could get out of that mess. After a few hours we went off in the ambulance to go to CMC in Manchester for X-rays, but luckily they turned out negative for any vertebrae damage.   Overall I'm just glad that Ala and I are okay, and that no one died in this pile-up. It really was remarkable that nothing serious happened aside broken bones. Almost every car involved was damaged beyond repair, including ours. Even though it was a terrible situation, everything worked out okay and resolved itself. It reaffirmed my cliche belief that everything happens for a reason. Ala and I met so many great individuals and the hospitality that we encountered from people was unbelievable. Maybe my faith in humanity is restored? We met so many nice people and in those few hours learned countless life stories. Yesterday showed me how well people can work together in a very bad situation, and the selflessness of others and what they are willing to do for people.   We made a friend from Harvard named Brian, and the quote from his interview perfectly describes how I feel. He was in the car next to ours. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-style: italic; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;"I see this big 18-wheeler coming at me, sliding," said Brian Milosavljevic, who dove down an embankment to avoid the truck bearing down upon him. "I can say that I'm going to have the image of an 18-wheeler coming at me full speed, out of control, for the rest of my life."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;It was a haunting day, but I'm going to try to not let it affect my life. I'm still going to ski. I'm still going to drive in the snow. I'm still going to listen to the Beatles. I'm still going to drive on 93. After talking to Jeff last night (while I had a bit of a breakdown, as everything started settling down and I began to reflect) I realize now that I did everything I could, and I made the best of the situation. I can't keep thinking "what if" and just accept reality. Nothing matters other than me and Ala are all right, and I saved her from potentially very bad injuries. I'm just really thankful that my life didn't change in a major way, other than giving me a fresh perspective and a newfound thankfulness for those that love me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;&lt;center style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3332/3192516147_cb8cc81b55.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;Low quality picture, but if you look for the red hat and the white hat, that's me and Ala. I was on the phone at the time.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;  &lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3355/3192516151_1735c73661.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;A very common sight.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;  &lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3456/3192516157_fc88d012af.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;This is near the back of the pile up, it looks like they had started to clear things out. We were up in front of the big red 18-wheeler.&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;One of the articles: &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; font-family:Georgia;"&gt;http://www.thebostonchannel.com/news/18456869/detail.html?rss=bos&amp;amp;psp=news#&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-638561003869229751?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/638561003869229751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=638561003869229751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/638561003869229751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/638561003869229751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-happy-to-be-alive.html' title='Just happy to be alive'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3332/3192516147_cb8cc81b55_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-2209483078588170302</id><published>2008-12-30T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T19:04:37.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally got a new road bike!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3224/3152508360_c2155e9227.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3224/3152508360_c2155e9227.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3233/3152508402_e021dd1651.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3233/3152508402_e021dd1651.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Holding him for the first time haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3227/3152508346_ef3f01486c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Look at that beauty ;0)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-2209483078588170302?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/2209483078588170302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=2209483078588170302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/2209483078588170302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/2209483078588170302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-finally-got-new-road-bike.html' title='I finally got a new road bike!'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3224/3152508360_c2155e9227_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-7821952664016834213</id><published>2008-12-15T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:14:33.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Artificial Cherry</title><content type='html'>I grabbed some candy at the beginning of my day and kept it in my pocket to provide a snack periodically, potentially keeping my energy level up. By the time 5:40 rolled around,  I was sitting in N101 of Kingsbury anxiously waiting for my calculus teacher to get there to pass out the tests. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my last peace of candy: a dum-dum lollipop. How appropriate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-7821952664016834213?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/7821952664016834213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=7821952664016834213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/7821952664016834213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/7821952664016834213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/12/artificial-cherry.html' title='Artificial Cherry'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-8705340042309721154</id><published>2008-12-11T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T18:10:15.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Isn't that a song already?</title><content type='html'>Highlight of my stay here in Durham, NH:&lt;div&gt;The rain that has been falling all day started freezing around 4:00. When Becky, Annie, and I were walking out of the MUB from the dining hall, we were going to take the ramp as usual but there was a big sign on the door that said "Ramp iced over, DO NOT USE"... so naturally, we went ahead anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was quite a funny sight. People were attempting to climb up the ramp by clinging onto the bars and failing miserably. While they were struggling, we were flying by as people laughed at our childish exclaims of happiness. We got to the bottom and Annie and I screamed in unison "I wanna do it again!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The not-so-fun part comes just five minutes ago when I would have been better off using an ice pick to get to top of the hill at the library. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some time has elapsed since I started writing this, and now I'm back from the library in the comfort of my own dorm in my sweet pants (phrase borrowed from Ryan) thanking god that my group actually got their act together and now I can relax for the first time since Saturday and watch The Office! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the simple things in life :')&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-8705340042309721154?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/8705340042309721154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=8705340042309721154' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/8705340042309721154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/8705340042309721154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/12/isnt-that-song-already.html' title='Isn&apos;t that a song already?'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-5186499736217043503</id><published>2008-11-29T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T11:43:34.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"You are so, so strange"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/STHs_RhAA7I/AAAAAAAAACg/d-fmclrQsQU/s1600-h/DSC00592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/STHs_RhAA7I/AAAAAAAAACg/d-fmclrQsQU/s200/DSC00592.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274257210405290930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll admit, sometimes I get carried away when I talk about my rat Franky, but he really is the most adorable and clever creature alive! My sister and I had the spontaneous idea this summer to purchase a couple rats from the pet store and save them from the snakes that they were going to eat them. We named them Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Everything Is Illuminated&lt;/span&gt;... go rent it) and Frank Sinatra (oOOh, rat pack, get it?). Sammy died after about a m&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/STHv_1dThlI/AAAAAAAAADA/kfsa6XRU5Cw/s200/Photo+342.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274260518588352082" /&gt;onth from me being in college (from loneliness and being apart from his owner, I'm sure) but Franky is still alive and kickin'. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we speak he's running around my room, creating mischief, climbing all over my stuff and probably destroying something else that I own (he already got the duffel bag) while I do my homework (also known as writing useless stuff about my rat in my blog).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But he's so damn cute, I can't help but forgive that little face of whiskers :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lolrats.com/"&gt;LOLrats&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-5186499736217043503?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/5186499736217043503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=5186499736217043503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/5186499736217043503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/5186499736217043503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/11/you-are-so-so-strange.html' title='&quot;You are so, so strange&quot;'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/STHs_RhAA7I/AAAAAAAAACg/d-fmclrQsQU/s72-c/DSC00592.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-1561671734987721705</id><published>2008-11-25T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T15:44:57.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest..</title><content type='html'>This may sound lame (actually I know it sounds lame) but I think today I was able to pinpoint the day that I became an "environmentalist" of sorts, or at least discovered my profound love for nature.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was walking back from chemistry exam in the torrential rain and wind when I crossed that little wooden bridge that goes over College Brook and noticed it was flowing faster than I've ever seen it. For some reason that song from Pocahontas song "Just around the river bend" got stuck in my head. Fast forward to the train ride to Woburn when I had my iPod on random and strangely enough "Colors of the Wind" came on (another song from that wonderful Disney movie). And of course, I knew all the words from when I was a little kid and I realized that even when I was six years old I was able to see the deeper meaning within the lyrics. Yeah, whatever, you can laugh because it's just a Disney song, but it's a damn good one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I just came back from the most terrifying drive of my life which was way longer than it should have been. Neither of my parents were home so Ala and her boyfriend Bill had to come pick from the station. Mind you, Bill is a TERRIBLE driver and it was raining really hard and the sun had already set as well. So I was sitting in the back about to shit myself while Bill was doing 50 down main street in Wilmington and Ala was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat not phased at all. On top of fearing for my life, I also had to worry about my car, because my mom thought it would be a good idea to let Bill take my car instead of his. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One more thing: &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;every single time &lt;/span&gt;I come home, something is different about my room. It is hardly even recognizable anymore. A few changes here and there didn't really bug me, but now I have Ala's stuff all over one of my desks and the other one has HER computer and books all over it. So where am I supposed to keep my computer and stuff? I was already on edge and I kind of yelled at Ala about it, and she said, "What do you care, you don't even live here anymore." What the fuck? Apparently with her new bed and dresser in her room she has "no space" and will be occupying mine instead. Thanks for consulting me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-1561671734987721705?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/1561671734987721705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=1561671734987721705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/1561671734987721705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/1561671734987721705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/11/come-run-hidden-pine-trails-of-forest.html' title='Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest..'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-109039103566887591</id><published>2008-11-24T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:24:23.428-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><title type='text'>just when I thought I had nothing to talk about..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://a.media.abcfamily.go.com/abcfamily/Shows/BoyMeetsWorld/Editions/2007-12-1/Images/BoyMeetsWorld_r.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 470px; height: 270px;" src="http://a.media.abcfamily.go.com/abcfamily/Shows/BoyMeetsWorld/Editions/2007-12-1/Images/BoyMeetsWorld_r.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Jeff and I (simultaneously) searched long and hard (him in shops and me on the internet) for Boy Meets World on DVD and much to our avail, we couldn't find anything past season 2. Well it turns out, it was within my reach this whole time! Becky (one of my roommates) went home this weekend and happened to bring home season 3 which I am happily watching with her and Annie as I munch away on a mousse pastry from Panache  and attempt to study for my chemistry exam (which is going to destroy me) tomorrow. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is grand! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-109039103566887591?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/109039103566887591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=109039103566887591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/109039103566887591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/109039103566887591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-when-i-thought-i-had-nothing-to.html' title='just when I thought I had nothing to talk about..'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8370189706323709272.post-526273802566655988</id><published>2008-11-24T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:25:47.714-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general'/><title type='text'>Fake tales from Durham, NH</title><content type='html'>Sometimes it's good to get a fresh start. I'm trying this out if only to work on my brevity. The problem with blogging for me is that I'm never overwhelmed with the urge to post something seemingly irrelevant, short, and concise, whether it is a rant or a random tidbit of my day. But it seems that when I start typing, I can't stop. And it's never anything interesting except to some sentimental sap like me, who likes to remember every single detail of every wonderful and miserable day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So keep skimming.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I said, "I'll get over it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8370189706323709272-526273802566655988?l=belannole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/feeds/526273802566655988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8370189706323709272&amp;postID=526273802566655988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/526273802566655988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8370189706323709272/posts/default/526273802566655988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://belannole.blogspot.com/2008/11/tales-from-durham-nh.html' title='Fake tales from Durham, NH'/><author><name>Bella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12178920497315789491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rGwcMtnG_Nk/SSte6CEscPI/AAAAAAAAABk/xSsO4LDIVuQ/S220/Photo+332.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
