<?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-126466824312424905</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:39:30.164-07:00</updated><category term='first blog Kim Pham Laurie The Melody'/><title type='text'>The Hidden Cabbage Patch</title><subtitle type='html'>the simple life...at your convenience.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-6897981333843562519</id><published>2008-05-22T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T13:09:41.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work it Harder, Make it Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The world has been at peace, like an ocean on a day with no wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-6897981333843562519?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/6897981333843562519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=6897981333843562519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/6897981333843562519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/6897981333843562519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/05/work-it-harder-make-it-better.html' title='Work it Harder, Make it Better'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-7541101963620770254</id><published>2008-03-06T14:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T09:21:24.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Is the end of a hectic week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Last Saturday, Explore 2000 was chosen out of all of New York and New Jersey schools to receive a free rod and reel from Bass Pro Shop. Also, Explore 2000 gets to be featured on TV on Fox and Friends. 15 minutes of fame, indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;So 30 kids from E2K come [that's the maximum] and we need to get there by 6:30. So i had to wake up around 4am, where even the morning dew hasn't arrived. My eyelids heavy, I go to school via Dad, and meet everyone there. It takes about half an hour to get there, Joseph waking me up ;D So we stop there and there's this southern guy that goes in the bus and starts talking. He says y'all =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Before I knew it, there are big red things everywhere. They're hats, clashing red baseball hats with the Bass Pro Shop logo on it. We have to wear them or ELSE. I instantly find out the true meaning of us being on TV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;A: We can be background people so it won't look that empty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;B; ADVERTISING.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;So we walk into the studio, and it's full of only broken reels. &gt;.&lt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Soon the show finally shows, and we just sit there smiling and say "Hi Clayton". The worst was that me and shni were smackdab between the reporter and the fisherman guy. Afterwards, the whole "15 minutes of fame" ended and then the southern guy says that he's found a new catch phrase. It's "You can never get a free rod and reel." and he explains that he won't give us our rods and reels unless we pack up all the reels into these boxes, and carry them outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Child Labor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;After that's all done, we all climb onto the bus. It's 8:56am and we head to McDonald's, which still has breakfast menu up. Hungry and bored, Joseph, Roshni, Jemma, Jeremy, Abdullah, Oleh, and I go into the bus. We decided to go to the mall, though Roshni couldn't come because no one would pick up at her house. So we stopped by the school, and got picked up by Jeremy's Dad. We're all squished into the 5 seat car, while we're trying to get Abdullah to kiss the foam fish we received from Mr.P. Abdullah bits off its lip, and we all morn for the sad unloved fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the mall, we immediately go to the food court.  Our stomach's hungry, we head to Arby's , where I have never went to before. It's 9am, and we order our food. I had no idea that Arby's food was...two times the average size. We all finished half of our food, so we stuff it all in a bag, and into Abdullah's coat sleeve. We saw 10000BC, which was alright, except there were not enough panthers. By the time the movie was over, it was raining wet and hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-7541101963620770254?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/7541101963620770254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=7541101963620770254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/7541101963620770254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/7541101963620770254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/03/today.html' title='Today..'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-9086151862474073917</id><published>2008-02-25T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T18:00:53.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clan of Misfits.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;------------------------&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Gosh, blogger, I've had a freakin' like 'gone wild' week off. So we have winter vacation from the Saturday after Valentine's to yesterday. At first it was pretty boring, just like, bumming around. Then Monday came [see previous blog], and guess what. My mom knows. It was the Tuesday after, and my mum and my little bro are washing the dishes. I tell my mom everything. I've told her about the Ray/Jemma thing, the Giam/Makiya/me, and that Tuesday was the day that I found out that Makiya and Giam broke up because Giam confessed that he still liked me [goodness]. So I'm telling my mom about it, and then my little brother comes out of no where, saying &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Joseph is Kim's boyfriend, mommy." &lt;/span&gt;I'm staring at him, across the sink, giving him the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'STFU'&lt;/span&gt; face. My mom asked why he said that. The words that came out of his mouth made me almost drop over. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;" I saw him kissing her on the lips." &lt;/span&gt;My mom looks at me, stone-face, like she wants to run knifes into my eyes. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What do you do at his house then?"&lt;/span&gt; she asked. And she finished washing the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat anything except water [which really isn't an eat in the first place], and then my mom takes me and How to Mitsuwa for lunch. Lunch. And guess what. She talks to me. About the Mitsuwa Lunch. It goes by smoothly, and then while my mom is driving us back, she goes &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What you said yesterday broke my heart. You're not a bad kid. Don't get controlled." &lt;/span&gt;And that. Was that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then it was Wednesday and Thursday, which nothing really exciting happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday. Snow man, snow. It's snowed, lifting my soul about global warming. =D So Han, Mommy, and I head out to the backyard, and it's like. Our own private snow dome. Mommy and I make a snowman, which has pine branches for arms, lollipops for eyes, mouth and ears, and a hat and scarf. Pictures will be added later :D aroused&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday. Omg Saturday. So I'm going to the mall with Joseph, Leydi, Nathali, and Barbara. I tell my mom that it's girls only, since she hates Joseph [or I get that aura]. So here was the original plan. Two o' clock I get there and so does Joseph. So then we're able to go on something I have fuckin' wanted since we got together. A date. So then when it's time to leave the house. My mom suddenly says that she's gonna come to the mall to shop. I'm like "fuck. Fuck. FUCK." [in my mind of course]. SO then I have to wait till Jojo calls me and says that Leydi and the rest have arrived. So I go to the movie theater, without mommy. So I'm too tired to finish this. Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rofl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-9086151862474073917?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/9086151862474073917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=9086151862474073917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/9086151862474073917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/9086151862474073917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/02/clan-of-misfits.html' title='Clan of Misfits.'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-5273905134129353102</id><published>2008-02-19T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T11:12:33.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE LOVE SOULLL and shoes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;Yesterday, was like one big mess but pretty nice. First, two nights ago Joseph planned to have Jeremy and Jemma come over. So to be nice, I called Jemma around 9:30 to ask her if she was coming. I can't come either way because my parents got pissed that Joseph never comes to my house and I always have to bother my dad to take me to his house. SO I call Jemma, and due to the fact that I'm Joseph's girlfriend, Jemma's mom refuses to let Jemma interact with Joseph without me there. But of course I can't come so Joseph can't come. Jemma's mom offers me a ride, insisting, but my mom of course says no [we are very humble people]. So instead we switch some things around and they all end up going to my house instead. My mom thinks Joseph is some delinquent and goes out and shoots people and sells drugs. Well, I'm overeacting a bit. But my mom thinks Joseph is too rebel for her liking. But since he was nice enough to run around and end up getting a ride with Jeremy, hence Jeremy coming over, my mom thinks that he isn't THAT bad. So Jemma comes first, we acidentally say "ass" in front of my little 5-year-old brother, who I bribe not to tell. I think Jemma left her mango ice shake in my fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I am inside the library, my fingers are very loud compared to the other people at the computers. A bald guy who looks older than my dad is playing Runescape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the day, Joseph and Jeremy arrive almost at hyperspeed. We first sit in my room, which is really awkward since I haven't had a guy come over in forever [last time a guy came over was my birthday in 6th grade = very very terrible]. So then Joseph, Jeremy, and my little brother start to beat each other up [not too hard of course] with these foam rocket launchers, and Pokemon plushies. After that, we go upstairs to eat a little. I order everyone to say Hello to my mom. Jeremy and Joseph nervously say Hi to my mom, who replies with her oh so cheery thick accented hello. So Joseph whips out his GameCube, and we get our game on. First we play Super Smash Brothers Melee, which Joseph owns us in. Though I am very proud that it was always Joseph and I left when everyone died. This means I'm semi pro! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after that we play Mario Party 5, which is seriously fun. Joseph cheats by giving himself 9 stars in the beginning of the game [HAXz]. Also, I think Han has taken a liking to Joseph, since now he is always asking when the next time Joseph will come visit will be. So we eat brownies, yada yada. SO we go downstairs and sit in the big guestroom bed to watch Monsters Inc. Jemma falls asleep for 5 minutes, so I grab a stuffed animal to give to her.As I'm tiptoing, I trip on the laptop adapter cord, and I fly acoss the room, with the elephant in the air. It hurt. We continue watching the movie We make fun of the salamander evil guy named Randall, and sit in the covers. Jeremy sits outside in my backyard, and apparently was jumping on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joseph finds a wad of money in his pocket, and we all sit in my room bored. SO we go back upstairs, to eat dinner. Tonight's Dinner was rice and beans, pork, and asparagus. Jeremy eats the rice and pork, while Jemma and I eat a little of everything. Joseph eats a hotdog. I wash their plates for them, while they help clean the table up. Jemma and I go into a game of chess, which is stopped due to Jeopardy Teen Competition. Jeremy and Joseph take over, while Jemma and I sit with the family at the couch watching Jeopardy. It was really nice. Like...it was a calm enviroment. Jeremy and Joseph come join us, and we Jeopardy our asses out. After that we watch Family Guy, which has Joseph laughing really hard. It's pretty cute =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Jemma has to go home, leaving Jeremy and Joseph with me to continue watching Family Guy.  Jeremy goes on my computer, while Joseph and I play guitarhero2. Hoa and Joseph rock it out, while I watch with envy. Joseph and Jeremy go home. I am...content.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Though some bitch hacked onto my hyperxforxyou AIM account and called everyone on my buddy list a bitch. =.=&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-5273905134129353102?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/5273905134129353102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=5273905134129353102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/5273905134129353102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/5273905134129353102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/02/love-love-soulll-and-shoes.html' title='LOVE LOVE SOULLL and shoes.'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-3624413452827674529</id><published>2008-02-17T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:32:54.905-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Promised</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/R7jbOye42vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/JTukElq7efY/s1600-h/%3D%5D+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/R7jbOye42vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/JTukElq7efY/s320/%3D%5D+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168121619523623666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/R7jabye42uI/AAAAAAAAAAY/DsG5KiTI_Ko/s1600-h/%3D%5D+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 325px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/R7jabye42uI/AAAAAAAAAAY/DsG5KiTI_Ko/s320/%3D%5D+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168120743350295266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Here you go, Mr.Blog, as promised.&lt;br /&gt;and something a little extra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-3624413452827674529?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/3624413452827674529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=3624413452827674529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/3624413452827674529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/3624413452827674529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-promised.html' title='I Promised'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/R7jbOye42vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/JTukElq7efY/s72-c/%3D%5D+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-3752000818721251647</id><published>2008-02-17T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T12:49:21.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Play it Like a Gamer, But Party Like a Rockstar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;------------------------------&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted in so long, this is what I get for being late on my project work. Luckily, I was able to finish up and have time to play my oh so favorite video games. Thursday and Friday was the yearly E2K arcadium, which is always a hit. I regret not bringing in my camera, though the memories have been encased into my mind. Whenever memories are being made, the future always seems to cross my mind. What memories will be made with my closest friends, will we still be closest friends? I'd like to say "Yes" with a very firm nod, but then again reality always seemed to squirm into my dream. The best I can really do is to enjoy the time at my best, and that's what I love the most being with you guys =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www1.hcstonline.org/hths/Portals/0/TTTGallery/2006-2007/Majors/StudioArts/HPIM2215.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www1.hcstonline.org/hths/Portals/0/TTTGallery/2006-2007/Majors/StudioArts/HPIM2215.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Ya know, I really dislike those milk gallon bottles that have the caps you have to&lt;br /&gt;turn. I'm so used to just popping it open =.=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Beautiful...Isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to my day, I finally got to play Bleach with Joseph, which I have been waiting and anticipating since Halloween. I wish I could come over to his house more....I really love it there. Anyway, I got my ass handed over to me on a silver platter after being defeated by Joseph once again. I swear someday I'm gonna beat him at his own game...someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Thursday was Valentine's Day, and I really don't care about that holiday anyway. Both Joseph and Oleh say that it's just a holiday for commercialism, which Jem, Shni, and I have to agree to. So I'm here setting up everything, and since the entire eighth grade is Arcade Staff [total of 20 kids] we get stickers! I'm serious! Ms.G came from BJ's and had there flower stickers, the 3D ones that pop out. So I put one on my cheek, and I'm happy to be a flower girl. So after me being pro on DDR, getting my ass handed again by Joseph at Guitar Hero [SHIT HYPERSPEED IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT.] my flower starts to come off. So, me trying to be cute and all, I hold the small flower sticker by the stem between my fingers and hold it out to Joseph. So I stare at Joseph's eyes and say &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Happy Valentine's Day Jojo~" &lt;/span&gt;and suddenly he slips something into my hands and says with his trademark smirk&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "Happy Valentine's Day.". &lt;/span&gt;I look in my hands. A ring. Enough sad. My mouth is like in a "Omigosh" state. I sit on the table near the DDR, staring at it while I sip my Sunkist.&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; I love you Joseph. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Arcade goes on rahrah. I finished reading my favorite person's blog. I apologize to them, even though they're not even reading this. You have made me respect your in such a big way. Though i may be nosy, looking and reading every single blog entry of yours, but apparently the lives of other people fascinate me. Especially the life of one who has been an awesome friend when I was starting out in e2k. Now here I am, sitting here at my computer, threading up loose knots with almost friends. I really like writing, I don't really know why. Perhaps it's a hobby of mine, or am I looking towards a new career? Maybe I should get into Graphic Design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High Tech is coming. I can't believe that half the worst is over. I can just hold my acceptance letter up high and scream at the top of my lungs. My big brother is proud. For that, I am too. Trying to plan ahead like I always do, I am currently looking through the High Tech website, trying to find a good elective of my style. I'm severely confused. Art and Performance is my Passion. Sorry Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to draw something for you, Mr. Blog. Maybe a robot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-3752000818721251647?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/3752000818721251647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=3752000818721251647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/3752000818721251647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/3752000818721251647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/02/play-it-like-gamer-but-party-like.html' title='Play it Like a Gamer, But Party Like a Rockstar'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-8284241707157161951</id><published>2008-02-09T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T20:17:15.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Takes Two to Tango but Takes Three for Me to Swim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;Saturdays are very slow in my life. In the past, I would spend my Saturdays watching cartoons like Power Rangers with Hoa. After that we would eat pancakes and then play Power Rangers: Pham Style. Then when we grew up, we would always wake up early and go to Piano Lessons. I would always throw up in the car because of how quickly I ate breakfast. After that phase, I gave up on Piano and Hoa went instead. I stayed at home with Han and my Mom for the Saturdays of the next couple of years. Then Hoa hit it big with his music, while I remained in my room drawing. Now in the present, Hoa goes to Columbia for Physics Class and I go to the Mall with my family. It's great fun really. Evolution of Saturdays, in a way. Now, as I am getting older, my parents let me have more freedom, opened the gate a little more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;The crack in the gate has made me have fun Saturdays in my lifetime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;Like today for example.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;I was invited by Jemma to go Swimming at the Newport Swim and Fitness Center.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;I was ecstatic to go, of course. I haven't gone swimming since the summer and there was nothing that takes out the kick of winter like a nice heated pool. Joseph was invited as well, and we were all going to meet at Babo's. I swear I love that place. It's so...loud yet has a charming atmosphere . I go there, Joseph has already arrived, and I sit down nervously on the bench next to him. My bag's key chain hits the metal bench, very loudly clanging, Joseph snaps at me saying we're going to get kicked out. I laugh and look out the huge window, avoiding eye contact. When I look at him in the eyes, I always end up breaking my gaze with him saying " What are you doing?". So I look out the window. He asks if I want anything. I don't want to spend his or my money, so I politely say no. Five minutes later, he asks again. I say no. Again, I say no and laugh. Then he asks again, saying that I want it. I say no...but I think about it a bit. Seeing the bubble tea in his hands, it looks so tempting and the smell was so nice..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;I turn my glaze from the window to the bubble tea in Joseph's hands. It's empty, with ice and only the tapioca pearls at the bottom. I don't like tapioca. The irony that strikes my everyday life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;Now after that episode, I still sit, leaning on the arm of Joseph's chair. We just sit there, in the silence of our voices in the noise of blenders and the radio blaring " When You Look Me In the Eyes" by the Jonas Brothers [ IRONY. ]. Jemma comes, looking lovely again. You have a flair for making have this feeling of poor and ugly. But it's alright. Just let me jack your clothes! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;So Jemma and I link arms and power walk like we always do. Then we start to run, feeling the fresh winter air in our faces. Then we hear a pair of loud running steps behind up. Joseph runs by with ease, like he passed by us while we were normally walking. Determined to beat him, I drag Jemma into a faster pace, soon catching up to Joseph. We go ahead him and continue running. We stop to see where Joseph is. We lose him, and cross the street to see if he's there. Next thing you know [Shorty got low low low lowww~ xD] we see Joseph running to the Fitness Center. We go right behind him and enter the center. I...am amazed. I never went into a fitness center before. It was so...high class. The locker room was even better. It was so...neat. I felt like...I needed to go out more. After being a little skittish about changing in front of other people, I changed into my bathing suit. We go to the pool, and it's like a breathe of fresh air. Seriously it was amazing. The water was warmmmmmm. Then Joseph and Jemma are there swimming. Well Joseph can't swim since the pool is too shallow for his height. Jemma can swim though. Seriously, she's like WOOOOSH. I go in, hanging onto the side. I hate not knowing how to swim. I used to know, but since I hardly went out I couldn't swim that much. Unlike riding a bike, my knowledge of how to swim was lost. Joseph and Jemma see me, and automatically made it their mission to teach me how to swim. I felt like a little kid again, holding on to a pair of hands [Joseph.] and someone holding up my stomach to help me kick [Jemma]. I drowned several times, getting the nasty chlorine water into my mouth. Soon, with the board, I was able to "swim" at a very slow pace. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;After that, we all got out, all pruney fingers and all. I go into the steam room with Jemma, the whole place is like...ENCRUSTED with steam [which is sorta obvious] and I can't see. My throat seems to magically open up, and I feel ...smooth. After that, Jemma and I took about half and hour getting ready. Meeting Joseph in the lobby, we go out and power walk to the mall. Nothing really happened at the mall. It made me really happy that Joseph put his arm around me. Something to lean on...protected. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;After a funny conversation about Miguel, we stop at Frederick's, Victoria's Secret, and the Disney store. Taking a very short nap on the Disney plushies, I do my duty as a good girl and call my dad and tell him to pick me up. Around 6:30, he comes and I go inside. The others go and their off to see Meet the Spartans. I hate my curfew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;" &gt;Now I'm at home, typing this up. I'm really hungry. Just finished watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It's such a..childish movie that I really like.  I'm tired...I lost inspiration. So I'm browsing around these different blogs and trying to get...inspired of course :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/126466824312424905-8284241707157161951?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/8284241707157161951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=8284241707157161951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/8284241707157161951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/8284241707157161951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/02/it-takes-two-to-tango-but-takes-three.html' title='It Takes Two to Tango but Takes Three for Me to Swim'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126466824312424905.post-7583426604096752898</id><published>2008-02-08T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T14:33:26.609-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first blog Kim Pham Laurie The Melody'/><title type='text'>The Melody.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt; heard a sweet melody,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt;A felony,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt;A calm voice that will carry me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt;To a place where freedom will ring,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt;Where all the angels will sing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;color:#000000;"  &gt;I don't remember a thing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; About the melody......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Written by:_ _ _ _&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Here I am, writing a blog after many attempts on other sights. I didn't even know that this site existed [the irony ;^^]. I came across it, looking at an old friend's myspace. Letting the links lead me, I find myself intrigued into her blog. Inspired me, intrigued me, called me out to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll start out like any normal blog with my day.&lt;br /&gt;It's funny when you wake up on time, and think '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Finally I can take my time going to school.'&lt;/span&gt; Then you look at the clock, seeing how early it is and then think again '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have time to spare...five more minutes'&lt;/span&gt;. Those five minutes turn into ten, into fifteen, into thirty. Soon you're staring at the clock again, and seeing that it's 7:30. The irony of thinking '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shit I should've woken up earlier.&lt;/span&gt;'. I rush everything, ending up with the same shirt and jeans I wore in the house last night. When I got downstairs to get my coat, I see Hoa packing his books into his backpack. I look over the books, and they're not even notebooks. They're big fat textbooks. Stuffing them into his bag, I slip on my shoes and close the door to the sound of him zipping up his bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm close to a time where I have to leave my two five-subject notebooks and have to lug textbooks into my bag soon. I'm scared. I really am. When the topic of school and the future comes up, I can't help but look away and not make eye contact. I can't really stand leaving everyone in the clutches of loose threads. The beginning of the year has been hectic, with twists and turns, and new friends and fake new friends.  It's scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to my day, I stand at the bus stop as usual, the crazy guy living on my block waving his arms like a aeroplane. I don't know whether to fear him or pity him. Grace said that he was an ex-criminal, and has the memories of jail still encrusted into his mind. Someday, I will come up to him while he is yelling violent spanish words everywhere and say hello. It sounds like...fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go on the bus, and sit down; only to find bread crumbs all over my seat. I meet up with Shni, and we talk the usual. I avoid the other girl as she goes on the bus. We stop slowly at the school and I give Joseph the welcoming kiss and hug. Normal routine goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In lunch, she didn't sit with us today. I never really knew why. Maybe it was because she got the point. Maybe she was mad with only one of us. Who really knew. We ate lunch like we never did before. Talking, giggling, pushing, thrusting [don't ask]. I see Jemma lugging two soups in her hands and look at her. I'm really such a glutton. I feel very guilty when I take money from Jemma and give her the 'I'll pay you back later' crap. I'll make it up to you someday love. You provide me with good food. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we finish our lunch, instead of going to the corner as usual, we all head to the main hall and ask if we can have dance practice.&lt;br /&gt;At first, I never really saw Oleh or Joseph as much of a dancer. A joker, yes, but a dancer? Joseph is opening up so much this year. If I ever say this to him, he'll just say that he has been doing this all year. If that's true, and it probably is, I should observe people more often. We actually go somewhere with our first meeting, cramming down a good thirty seconds of the song. Joseph looked a bit awkward, but his mood and aura didn't even seem like it. It made me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, I don't even know why but i get into these moods, that I can't even explain. Joseph noticed, and did his best attempts to cheer me up. From playing "You can't see me" game to singing "Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton, that guy just makes me laugh. Whenever he grabs the sides of my cheeks and stretches them, I can't help but give a big smile. He sings so cute. It's not amazing like Trapt or Dave Mellio [ Have I spelled that right? ]. But it's a good voice compared to all guys i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take off my glasses because the computer is hurting my eyes with its glare, and I look over and see Joseph leaning on the screen. He says " You're Pretty." I look at him...and pretend that I don't hear him "What did you say..." he looks at me and then buries his head into his arms on the table. I'm forcing him to tell me. He repeats it again. I say 'Thank You' like a lame girl. xD the irony. Even Oleh said " You should wear contacts." when he saw me without my glasses. When I asked why he answered "Because they'll help your eyes." Maybe he meant it? o.o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just burnt my foot by putting it on the heater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here now, Han is playing with his bug catching net, while the only sound in this house is my fingers clacking and my little brother singing some random tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=D ah...life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/126466824312424905-7583426604096752898?l=thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/feeds/7583426604096752898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=126466824312424905&amp;postID=7583426604096752898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/7583426604096752898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/126466824312424905/posts/default/7583426604096752898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddencabbagepatch.blogspot.com/2008/02/melody.html' title='The Melody.'/><author><name>kim.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17676316050793795239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D14qBBdidfs/STHia1MkUwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ppa9_ApAR3U/S220/kim+three.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
