<?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-8418475762045243433</id><updated>2011-07-08T09:47:29.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this cliche life.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8418475762045243433/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>rachel.r</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16584585565461037744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWCFJRkvpTA/SnzK_381zAI/AAAAAAAAAAs/1nQWfzBMSIg/S220/Photo+314.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8418475762045243433.post-7905740588626000604</id><published>2009-08-07T13:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:42:47.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>city lights like rain</title><content type='html'>let's face it. i have nothing better to do with my time right now. i could find something, but i am lazy. at least i'm being honest with myself. good. it's a rainy, gloomy day anyway. my favorite. nature's excuse to sit inside and let your demeanor match the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but much thanks to the rain, all i've done is  dwell on unnecessary worries. like my job. i need a new job period. don't get me wrong, i like mine. as far as retail goes, it's great. but it's not me. i have put on this facade of being a people person but i am not. i'm shy, socially anxious, and awkward. i guess i've just had enough practice to trick even myself. hell, i wouldn't mind a job where i got to sit in a little cubicle all day and type away, slowly working my way towards a case of carpal tunnel. if i don't already have it from years of late night aim sessions and insessent texting affairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all humor aside. i joke about my laziness, my flaws, whatever but i know they are eating me up inside. i need to make some major changes. i'm hoping the new apartment is a step in the right direction but who knows. stubborness runs deep in my family tree, along with a number of other undesirable character traits. i know i'm worth it. i need to translate my words into action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rachel.r&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8418475762045243433-7905740588626000604?l=thisclichelife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/feeds/7905740588626000604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/2009/08/city-lights-like-rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8418475762045243433/posts/default/7905740588626000604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8418475762045243433/posts/default/7905740588626000604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/2009/08/city-lights-like-rain.html' title='city lights like rain'/><author><name>rachel.r</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16584585565461037744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWCFJRkvpTA/SnzK_381zAI/AAAAAAAAAAs/1nQWfzBMSIg/S220/Photo+314.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8418475762045243433.post-1424281058588544758</id><published>2009-08-07T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T12:43:07.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let's go back, back to the beginning.</title><content type='html'>i'm an english major. i'm supposed to be all about reading and writing and yet it is august and i have yet to finish reading a single book. single is the key word there. i have started many, just haven't finished them. after a semester of reading nietzsche, derrida, and zizek i guess my mind has neeeded a little break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to blog all the time. my emo little rants on livejournal or xanga. i guess not that much has changed. i like being emo. deep down i secretly love it, minus the whole cutting, self loathing part. i quit all that in high school. it's all about the look, thinking i'm different when really i buy all my clothes at retail chains and my lip piercings are nothing original. whatever. i guess that's just me, another face in the crowd of this sad, pathetic world. okay that was overly pessimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i only have a year-ish left of school. then what? be someone's bitch at a publishing company? become a teacher and be under paid and over worked? i've worked enough god damn retail jobs to want a little extra cash and i'd be willing to work for it! i'll admit it. i'm shallow. but i still care. i want money. i want nice clothes. i want to cover my body in tattoos from the most brilliant tattoo artist i can find. i want to pay $100 for a hair cut and damn it i want bigger boobs. but i know that's not me. the guilt would start to set it. so, i guess i'll have to settle for being someone's bitch or overworked and write my legendary, soon to be best selling book on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay that's enough for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rachel.r&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8418475762045243433-1424281058588544758?l=thisclichelife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/feeds/1424281058588544758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/2009/08/lets-go-back-back-to-beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8418475762045243433/posts/default/1424281058588544758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8418475762045243433/posts/default/1424281058588544758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisclichelife.blogspot.com/2009/08/lets-go-back-back-to-beginning.html' title='let&apos;s go back, back to the beginning.'/><author><name>rachel.r</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16584585565461037744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWCFJRkvpTA/SnzK_381zAI/AAAAAAAAAAs/1nQWfzBMSIg/S220/Photo+314.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
