<?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-4032525746913047988</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:34:24.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inanity</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.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-4032525746913047988.post-8616146866112771181</id><published>2008-11-08T00:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T00:29:47.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Out of the Closets and Into the Streets"</title><content type='html'>I have a great many friends who voted for both presidential candidates yesterday. I have a great many friends who are ecstatic that Obama was elected, and a similarly great number of friends and family members who are upset that McCain lost. I don't do partisan politics. It isn't my thing...I can navigate the murky waters of it all, but I find it distasteful. When I consider politics, I consider the impact on the human condition. As I write this, Proposition 8 seems likely to pass in the state of California. This would illegitimize the marriages between same-sex couples in that state. When the California Supreme Court allowed same-sex marriages...it was a moment which literally made me weep, because I knew that there was still hope for me...and for others like me across the country.&lt;br /&gt;As I write this, I weep again. And what induces these tears more than anything else is not the fear that any inroads that have been made in civil law will be erased...no, that is not the reason. I weep because I know that so many of my friends and family members will never know why any of this matters so much to me. That so many of my friends regard my "lifestyle" as first and foremost a choice, and almost equally importantly, as a sin.&lt;br /&gt;I cry out from my very depths because mine is a misunderstood struggle. Our story is not one that is told. People don't empathize with our plight because they simply do not know that which has been endured in the name of love. The gay world is not one of darkness. It is one of light and of hope. There is a reason that the rainbow is one of our symbols. It was a sign given to Noah...a covenant that life will be made better.&lt;br /&gt;Even many of my fellow members of the LGBT community don't know their history. They don't know that the pink triangle is our yellow Star of David. It was used by the Nazis to mark homosexuals...who were killed off by the tens of thousands in concentration camps. They don't know that the McCarthy era of purging the government of suspected Communists was not limited to political sympathies. More suspected homosexuals lost their jobs in the civil service than suspected Communists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt; They don't know that until the 1980s, gays were targeted by the police. Gay bars, and gay meeting areas in general were never safe or secure. Most people think of vice squads as being prevalent around the turn-of-the-century...when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; prudish remnants of the Victorian era were calling the shots. What they don't realise is that vice squads existed almost exclusively for the targeting of the LGBT community. That police vans would literally surround gay meeting areas, break up the event, and arrest as many people as they could fit in their vans.&lt;br /&gt;While gay publications were technically allowed to exist before the 1970s, it was difficult to distribute them. For two reasons: first...very few people were willing to subscribe to a gay magazine...because they faced eviction, job loss, and public humiliation if their sexuality was discovered, and secondly...obscenity laws forbade the distribution of most gay literature in America.&lt;br /&gt;But let's go back to that first reason for just one quick moment. The loss of housing and jobs...because of sexuality. And this is the one thing that manages to infuriate me a great deal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              IT STILL IS LEGAL!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live in Manor Township. I work in East Drumore Township. When my lease comes up for renewal, my apartment complex manager could, technically, refuse to allow me to renew it...because of my sexuality. When applying for a new lease at another apartment...I could be turned down...for no reason other than my sexuality. My boss, should he so desire, could fire me for being gay...and I would have no legal recourse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't tell me that these things are in the past. They are a part of my life. Just because I am too young to have been a part of the events of the 1970s does not mean that they are not a part of me. I hold tightly to the stories that are passed down...in the same way that I cling to the stories I am told of my ancestors' past. It molds me and shapes me. It impacts my life on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;These are my people. And while I may not personally like every member of the LGBT community, I will defend them with all that is within me. And I do count myself lucky to be a part of such a community. I am blessed beyond measure by the friendships I have established, and the struggles that I have shared with those friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just the tiniest portion of what I would like to say...what I want to express on this issue. I want to thank those who have inspired me...those with whom I've discussed these issues ad nauseum...you all probably hate me for it...but thank you, I count each of you as one of my primary inspirations in this incredible aspect of my life...you are more of a blessing to me than you will ever know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-8616146866112771181?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/8616146866112771181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=8616146866112771181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/8616146866112771181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/8616146866112771181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2008/11/out-of-closets-and-into-streets.html' title='&quot;Out of the Closets and Into the Streets&quot;'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-6527981134958972943</id><published>2008-09-11T14:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T14:48:41.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>True bachelorhood</title><content type='html'>Within 3 weeks, my roommate/ex-boyfriend will be moving out of our apartment...thus making it my apartment. I've been spending countless hours scrolling through page after page of home decor items from Pier 1 to Ikea to Target. Bliss is knowing that I can afford some of the things that I genuinely want and need. I'm feeling a bit apprehensive, to be sure, but I think that living alone will be a truly great chapter in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Updates to follow, most certainly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-6527981134958972943?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/6527981134958972943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=6527981134958972943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/6527981134958972943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/6527981134958972943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2008/09/true-bachelorhood.html' title='True bachelorhood'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-4529374770204160093</id><published>2008-03-07T20:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T20:15:22.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling in love</title><content type='html'>I fell in love again yesterday. Or maybe it was before that. I honestly don't know. All I know is that I'm in love. It is a secret love...yes...but it is love. And I'm not afraid of it anymore. I'm not afraid of what it means for me. I have no clue where this love will go...no idea if anything will actually come of it...but I have it and that is enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;     For now though I will sit and drink...savouring the taste of the wine, reflecting on life as I know it...and dreaming of a sweeter someday.&lt;br /&gt;            Cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-4529374770204160093?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/4529374770204160093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=4529374770204160093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/4529374770204160093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/4529374770204160093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2008/03/falling-in-love.html' title='Falling in love'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-2332248662367917935</id><published>2008-02-20T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T21:25:02.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama</title><content type='html'>The greatest disadvantage to being a college student is the general immaturity of the men, and, even more frustratingly, the general lack of dateable men. I like to think of myself as a highly eligible bachelor. I have a decent job/income...at least for a college student. I'm an expert conversationalist. I have varied interests. The list goes on and on. But for some reason, I can't seem to achieve an actual working relationship.&lt;br /&gt;     I think that my biggest problem is something that I perceive to be my greatest strength. I appreciate my ex-boyfriends as friends. I have difficulty shutting them out of my life entirely. Is it because I hold on too much? Perhaps. I imagine it's because I shared a part of myself with each of them...a piece of my heart...and even if my heart cannot be completely whole, I'd like to keep those pieces close.&lt;br /&gt;     I need to move on. I need to learn to let go. I need to actually let go. In the end, I'm only screwing myself. I realised that earlier this week, when I was turned down by someone...because he assumed that I wasn't over my ex. It's a difficult balance, it really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I love my life. There are many good aspects to it. But right now, I just feel bogged down. Like walking through water in heavy boots. Everything just seems to catch at me. It's frustrating and upsetting. And the worst part is knowing that things will get worse before they get better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-2332248662367917935?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/2332248662367917935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=2332248662367917935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/2332248662367917935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/2332248662367917935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2008/02/drama.html' title='Drama'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-6303693081105265577</id><published>2008-01-13T01:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T01:48:41.472-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't write here as often as I should. I've been incredibly busy, working multiple jobs, and trying to juggle my life. It's a delicate balance, one that is made easier by the fact that I'm single. I hate that word, "single". It just...it makes me feel like a failure. I know that I'm not, but the fact that I cannot manage to sustain a relationship for any long period of time, it bothers me a great deal. It's not part of my plan. I'm the successful person, I'm the one who always gets what I want. I work hard to achieve the things that matter to me. But a relationship, that's something I can't get the hang of. I can't just work harder to ensure that a relationship works, not when things depend upon others.&lt;br /&gt;        I don't talk about my "recent" breakup. It's been a month, but only a few people know any of the details. It's not something I'm proud of. It's not something I wanted. And not a day goes by that it doesn't affect me on some level. I've become close to my other exes in the past month, but it's not the same. They're all great guys, or else I wouldn't have dated them in the first place, but they are not on par with him. I realise this more and more with each passing day. Each moment that I am with one of them, I find myself thinking of him. He runs through my mind constantly. I miss him. I don't care if that makes me sound pathetic or not, I miss him terribly. Even when I'm hanging out with him...I miss him. It's a deep, powerful aching, and the worst part is that there is nothing I can do about it. It is as insatiable as my ambition. I've tried to escape it. I've tried to forget it. Tried to cover it over with physical intimacy with others...but nothing works.&lt;br /&gt;        I'm still waiting for the breaking point. To date I've been working almost constantly. It's almost impossible to really focus on anything other than sleep and work. But that will change soon. I've been offered a management position at my one job, so I will most likely be quitting my night job. Which means that I'll actually have time to do things. Or focus on things. Which means that something will give. Perhaps I'll just throw myself into my writing, or some other such work. I can be the reclusive bachelor...that'd be fun. Of course...I'll be living with him...so...that makes the schtick a bit...interesting. But whatever. We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-6303693081105265577?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/6303693081105265577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=6303693081105265577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/6303693081105265577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/6303693081105265577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-dont-write-here-as-often-as-i-should.html' title=''/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-8272931812265817674</id><published>2007-10-11T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T20:41:20.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotional ranting</title><content type='html'>Why doesn't anyone get it? Why the fuck are people so fucking caught up in their own insanely stupid lives? Is it really that hard to go out of your way to smile at a complete stranger? To share a chuckle over an elevator packed beyond capacity with obnoxious college guys? To reassure someone that their thoughts are worthwhile? Is it really impossible to single out someone, and say "good job". Are we all so caught up in our own lives that we can't spare the time to help another human being? Are we all so impoverished that we can't buy a complete stranger a drink? That we can't leave an overly generous tip for a particularly flustered waitress?&lt;br /&gt;          I'm not a saint. I don't pretend to be. I give of myself, because I honestly think other people deserve things more than I do. I know myself. I too often find myself being stingy. Being cheap. Being the kind of guy who refuses to make eye contact with another human being because I don't value human life enough. Or is it because I think that if they look at me, that if they look inside me...that they'll know? That they'll stumble across the habits that I keep hidden so very well. That perhaps, they'll see who I really am, and be completely and totally disgusted.&lt;br /&gt;            I may love people, but I keep too much of a distance. That is something that I will be working on in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        But goddamnit. Let's just all admit our damned humanity...and recognise the humanity of those around us. I don't give a fuck who they are or what they look like. How they dress, how they smell, how tall they are, how short they are, how fat they are, how dark they are, how ugly they are, how smart they are, how nerdy they are....NONE OF IT MATTERS! If you have a problem with someone's externalities then don't become friends with them...but respect them as human beings. If we all were to laugh a bit more freely, and were to stop being such uptight sons-of-bitches...the world might...it just might...be a happier place to live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           What do you have to lose? Honestly. If anything, you will gain dignity...and my respect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-8272931812265817674?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/8272931812265817674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=8272931812265817674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/8272931812265817674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/8272931812265817674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2007/10/emotional-ranting.html' title='Emotional ranting'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-3694577375732801462</id><published>2007-10-09T09:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T07:32:21.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sappy twit</title><content type='html'>As much as I try to refrain from the employment of my emotions...sometimes I can't help myself. I grew up in a family that was not very affectionate, to put it lightly. Hugs, or verbal expressions of love simply were not used. At best, one could say that my family has an attachment to each other. And that's my immediate family. Extended family, it gets even more weird. We acknowledge each other, but it never goes beyond small talk. We argue politics at family gatherings (I'm one of maybe 3 Democrats in a family of a good dozen and a half Republicans)...and we talk business, and the externalities of general life. No emotions.&lt;br /&gt;     Switch to the time that I was just starting high school...and I was fast becoming a very expressive person. My group of friends was a closeknit one. We hugged, we laughed, we cried...we shared each other's lives. Then I became a bit too expressive, and came out of the closet; and that entire aspect of my life vanished. I lived in a whirlwind of bitter cynicism and general hatred for humanity for well over a year. Met the person of my dreams, fell madly in love...and things changed a bit. He and I were as close as two people could be. But there was a side of him that I couldn't quite deal with. I just couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;           Just over a year ago...while still involved with the boy...I met someone else. He was quiet, but managed to make me laugh. He kept up with me in conversation...made me think about things. Challenged me intellectually. I fell for him. He was, and is, the most incredible person I have met. I know many people who have one or two of his most attractive characteristics...but none combine them the way he does.&lt;br /&gt;       Over the past year, my love for him has grown. Normally I get bored with people after a few months...because they don't have the substance to interest me for any period of time greater than that. Not so with this one. He intrigues me, he stimulates my complete interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            I love him. Nothing extravagant. Nothing extreme. I am passionately in love with this fellow...and I don't see that changing. And should he happen to read this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               I love you S. More than I can possibly express.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-3694577375732801462?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/3694577375732801462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=3694577375732801462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/3694577375732801462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/3694577375732801462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2007/10/sappy-twit.html' title='Sappy twit'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-93946464129281156</id><published>2007-10-07T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T21:12:06.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trollop</title><content type='html'>Tonight was a good night. I don't know why. Alright, maybe I do, but they tell me that one of the ways to keep someone intrigued is by being mysterious. And so I work on that...working the mystique...and such. Honestly though, I haven't had an entire day of relaxation in a long, long time. I'm always doing something that puts my blood pressure through the roof...or bores me to tears. Lately I have spent far too many hours of my days on the phone, bitching out some random incompetent. Or trying to figure out how my life is going to work out in the future.&lt;br /&gt;       Funny story. I was tired of working my ass off, and still coming up short financially. It's not so easy being a full-time student who is financially independent. And when my dear old piece-of-shit car died, that was the final straw. I said the hell with it and took out a student loan. Just enough to live on...and to be able to pay for a newer, nicer car. Right now I'm eyeing up this beautiful deep green Saab. I've become addicted to the cars. They're beautiful. They're incredibly durable (my car's odometer read 810,000 miles)...and just amazing. And my prospect is amazing. I'm taking her out for a spin tomorrow...and then deciding whether or not I want to make her mine. So excited. You have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;             Anyway, dealing with various mechanics, dealers, a concerned mother, a rather indifferent (in regards to what car I get) boyfriend, and an ex who thinks that I'm finally giving in to his request of last year to buy a new car...all of that has been rather exhausting. Coupled with issues with my loan agency. Stupid fuckers who shall not be named...they're lovely, really. Randomly having my initial loan canceled, without my approval, without my school's approval...without really any explanation...other than the fact that it was "an automated response". My re-application for a loan is almost complete...which pisses me off. My credit is fine. My rates are higher...because I am a student...without a more credit-worthy cosigner...but still....my credit is decent. Tomorrow I get to have a little conference with my school's loan coordinator...who is equally pissed with the afore-non-mentioned agency.  Should be fun.&lt;br /&gt;               I'm sure no one actually reads this...but how fun would it be if someone actually did? Someone who actually found me to be witty...not to mention pretty and gay...that'd be awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-93946464129281156?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/93946464129281156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=93946464129281156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/93946464129281156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/93946464129281156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2007/10/trollop.html' title='Trollop'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4032525746913047988.post-6843334634680479010</id><published>2007-09-22T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T18:45:06.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Infinity</title><content type='html'>And thus commences my first blog posting. I've had Xanga for half a decade, but somehow it just seems outdated. Besides, I have so very many inspiring thoughts to publish (insert silent snicker here).&lt;br /&gt;         Yes, I am a self-effacing homo. Story of my life. Hell, story of most people's lives. I'm quite the unique fellow...in that I don't believe myself to be all that unique. That whole snowflake individuality bullshit they teach you in elementary school rubs a bit thin once you've spent time in this little thing called reality.&lt;br /&gt;          I'm sure I'll post more later, because I'm basically a loser with no life...but for now...cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4032525746913047988-6843334634680479010?l=eloquiescence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/feeds/6843334634680479010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4032525746913047988&amp;postID=6843334634680479010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/6843334634680479010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4032525746913047988/posts/default/6843334634680479010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eloquiescence.blogspot.com/2007/09/infinity.html' title='Infinity'/><author><name>Eloquiescence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10403276686279741711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_szaWJZ-3bsM/R-6ALJuF5FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AnaCg3oMS8M/S220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
