<?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-8736878261996673693</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:39:06.411-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MistyJoy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Misty Joy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736878261996673693.post-7864807505394950642</id><published>2008-10-24T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T22:10:49.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am a bit sleepy. I have once again &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reached&lt;/span&gt; for the mixture of the gods; pills and wine. I love life through the eyes of a sedated starlet. Sizzle Sizzle. I am so concerned about the Prop 8 thing in California this election. I am not surprised but just mostly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; that this prop is even on the ballot and threatening to pass. Fundamentally, I am befuddled by the fact that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;people&lt;/span&gt; actually give a shit about it. I could offer up many reasons why it is so ridiculous. It is just not worth it. It is simple. The only people who vote for such a proposition have to Christians.  Why else would someone wish to deny gays to marry? Only the threat of eternal damnation could do so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736878261996673693-7864807505394950642?l=mistyjoy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/feeds/7864807505394950642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736878261996673693&amp;postID=7864807505394950642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/7864807505394950642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/7864807505394950642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am-bit-sleepy.html' title=''/><author><name>Misty Joy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736878261996673693.post-4628548603702570036</id><published>2008-07-24T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:48:45.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Moon</title><content type='html'>This is not about the moon in the sky. It is about the moon in my uterus that sheds layers of my internal self &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every month&lt;/span&gt;. The blood I can deal with. Not a huge deal. We have many over priced items these days one can purchase to thwart or contain the flow of blood from my vagina. That is not really a big deal. I can not even fathom having to wear some belted device that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;needed&lt;/span&gt; to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;harnessed&lt;/span&gt; on my being like some sort of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;undergarment&lt;/span&gt; saddle. That would be a bit inconvenient. To even take a potty break would be a huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;endeavour&lt;/span&gt;. "Oh pardon me" I need to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;excuse&lt;/span&gt; myself to go tot he rest room, unbuckle the sides of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;menstruation&lt;/span&gt; harness so I can pee." That would suck. No I am talking about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;irritating&lt;/span&gt; emotional pit that I fall into every month or so. I hate admitting that I can be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;victim&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;these&lt;/span&gt; lame helpless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;biological&lt;/span&gt; female &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;tendencies&lt;/span&gt;. I always took such pride in being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;immune&lt;/span&gt; to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;irrationality&lt;/span&gt; of the moon cycle. However, as of late, I am anything but immune. I am a mess. Today, after one vodka soda, I started hollering about how I hated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;straight&lt;/span&gt; southern people. Well, of course, we can all agree that they are annoying, small minded, and a bit backwards, but there was really no need to holler about it; especially to an audience that would not necessarily get it. Then I think; if I am so angry at straight people  (which I feel I really am not but th&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ey&lt;/span&gt; are the easiest to pick on) then why don't I just immerse myself in gayness? I could start joining gay groups, mingling with gay people only, and maybe even get season tickets to the Storm. But the truth of the matter is...I can not tolerate the gays anymore than I can the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;straights&lt;/span&gt;. Then what am I left with; bisexuals? No thanks. I suppose maybe I will just have to find someway to have people not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;irritate&lt;/span&gt; me so? That just sounds not plausible. Maybe I will just wait for my moon to pass an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;pretend&lt;/span&gt; that I never felt this way? I am thinking that sounds like the best bet. All the other options just sound too exhausting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736878261996673693-4628548603702570036?l=mistyjoy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/feeds/4628548603702570036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736878261996673693&amp;postID=4628548603702570036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/4628548603702570036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/4628548603702570036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/2008/07/moon.html' title='The Moon'/><author><name>Misty Joy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736878261996673693.post-4227908475509762212</id><published>2008-07-21T21:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T21:24:34.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Practice</title><content type='html'>A few years ago, I had come to the decision that I was going to pursue writing as an occupation. I should let you know that I have come to this type of decision before. I would estimate about every one to two years in my life since the age of 18. Upon my most recent realization of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Scribner's&lt;/span&gt; destiny, I enrolled myself into a Saturday workshop. It was early winter and it just seemed perfect; cold winter days, quaint classrooms warmed by space heaters, and large knitted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;loosely&lt;/span&gt; fitted sweaters. A perfect environment for enlightened essay writing. The first day of this workshop the soft spoken Saturday instructor told us something that I found very disturbing at the time. He said "writing is work". You must work at it everyday. You must practice in order to perfect your craft. Great, I thought! Another thing to put work into. I left the class that day and never returned. I prefered the words flowing my fingers bit; writing out perfect stanzas in my first drafts never to be revisited again in a effort not to stain the originality of the thought. This was the life I wanted. I would prefer not to sit a a computer and endure the hours upon hours of forced script and awkward sentences. So, two years &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;later&lt;/span&gt; here I am. I am currently super time impoverished and have no energy for anything other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;than&lt;/span&gt; work and family...yet I feel the need to practice. Not for occupation but for something else. Don't know yet. We will see what comes of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736878261996673693-4227908475509762212?l=mistyjoy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/feeds/4227908475509762212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736878261996673693&amp;postID=4227908475509762212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/4227908475509762212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/4227908475509762212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/2008/07/practice.html' title='Practice'/><author><name>Misty Joy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736878261996673693.post-4085443382525136789</id><published>2008-07-20T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:36:17.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pressure</title><content type='html'>This first entry will be quick. The pressure for the first blog entry is too intense. I think I need to slowly slide into my blogging pantsuit. I do feel good about my new blogging endeavor. I am a person whose attention span and inflated sense of self is a perfect match for the blog universe. Please expect my entries to be inconsistent in content, ,style, flow and occurrence. I am known to drop things and easily become disinterested. We will see what happens here. However, I do not feel I have had enough self growth to have conquered my life long issues of under preforming. I expect it to continue in this blogging space. Ok. enough for now. Tomorrow, or maybe next month, I will sign on again and start revealing uncomfortable personal reflections to faceless strangers. Yes, big assumption on my part; that there are actual strangers out there taking the time to read this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736878261996673693-4085443382525136789?l=mistyjoy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/feeds/4085443382525136789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736878261996673693&amp;postID=4085443382525136789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/4085443382525136789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736878261996673693/posts/default/4085443382525136789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mistyjoy.blogspot.com/2008/07/pressure.html' title='Pressure'/><author><name>Misty Joy</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
