<?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-1488439151391111827</id><updated>2012-02-09T13:30:24.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mere-losophies'</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Meredith Miles</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O59v_UUJKu0/TzQ61RdxRbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/mk29UCPfKg4/s220/photo.JPG'/></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-1488439151391111827.post-6654964887486271305</id><published>2009-05-07T00:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T01:12:42.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk Seniors and Rice Krispies.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Get pumped&lt;/span&gt;. Today is the day I make my very delayed return to the blogging community. (And I do not return to you with a "Mere-losophy", I return to you with the worst news ever...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;As I sit here at one in the morning, I cannot sleep. Why you might ask? I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;depressed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;. Not only because I have a statistics final in eight hours, or because there is no food in my room and I am starving, but because my first year of college is over. O.V.E.R. I just can't believe it. It really hit me tonight while Jamil and I were studying in lobby of CM. It began with multiple boxes of rice krispies treats falling from the sky. Literally. (I ate three. SO GOOD.) And as Martha, Megan, Michelle, Emily, Jamil and I were enjoying the unexpected surprise a couple of drunk seniors stumbled onto the scene. After a couple minutes of their stammering and shouting they began to give us a little advice about college: "IT IS GOING TO FLY BY", "WE DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE REAL WORLD", "WE WANT TO STAY IN COLLEGE FOREVER AND DRINK EVERYDAY WITH OUR FRIENDS", "I HAVE TO GO TO WORK, WHAT THE HELL??", "DON'T WASTE A MINUTE, IT WILL BE OVER BEFORE YOU KNOW IT", and so on and so forth. Not only did their rant ruin the delicious treats, it just made me think, HOLY SHIT. This year did fly by, and then next year we will be sophomores and then after that juniors and then seniors, AND THEN REAL LIFE. No more parties, no more sleeping in until two on the weekends, no more brunch at the Cog, no more community living, no more Crosby, no more dances, no more college. SAD DAY. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't want to grow up&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Mere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;P.S. I promise to blog more often, and to throw in a Mere-losophy or two. Ta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1488439151391111827-6654964887486271305?l=merelosophies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/feeds/6654964887486271305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/05/drunk-seniors-and-rice-krispies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/6654964887486271305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/6654964887486271305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/05/drunk-seniors-and-rice-krispies.html' title='Drunk Seniors and Rice Krispies.'/><author><name>Meredith Miles</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O59v_UUJKu0/TzQ61RdxRbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/mk29UCPfKg4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488439151391111827.post-3336484756755892311</id><published>2009-03-05T23:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T23:28:45.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GIRLS GONE WILD</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Hawaii on Sunday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Jealous much!? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I'll blog when I return. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;And one more thing fellow spring breakers.... DON'T look for me on those late night Girls Gone Wild commercials, not my style. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;PEACE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;-Mere&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/1488439151391111827-3336484756755892311?l=merelosophies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/feeds/3336484756755892311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/03/girls-gone-wild.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/3336484756755892311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/3336484756755892311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/03/girls-gone-wild.html' title='GIRLS GONE WILD'/><author><name>Meredith Miles</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O59v_UUJKu0/TzQ61RdxRbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/mk29UCPfKg4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488439151391111827.post-4961045346237709055</id><published>2009-02-24T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T16:52:34.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One in a million....?</title><content type='html'>First things first, it's only Tuesday!? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;FML&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lucky for you I have decided to make your day by posting Mere-losophy number two. Feast your eyes on this, one and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For anyone who has been or is currently in a relationship, this one goes out to you. (It could also apply to those who might classify their relationship on facebook as "It's complicated with [insert name here]) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One in a million, does it really exist? I have been a victim of this overly used and not usually thought through statement. It comes out (or some version of it) like word vomit when one is caught up in the overwhelming-ness of a somewhat serious relationship. Everyone in this type of relationship seems to think they have something "special" that no one else has. FALSE. Your young, obsessive, dysfunctional, sometimes fantastic relationship is just the same as everyone else's. There could be a few exceptions to this theory, but for the most part I am extremely correct. Each couple seems to think they really love each other, or what other people have is nothing in comparison. Think again, Bonnie and Clyde. Love is so much more. Or at least I hope so, because if what I and my friends have experienced is love, no thanks. I would like to think it is something so different than what our distorted twenty first century view of it is. "I love you" is thrown around like STD's these days. It is sickening really. Stop the madness, I beg of you! We are 18 (give or take) and should not be expecting to fall in love, find the one, be someone's one in a million, just yet. So take a chill pill. And stop acting like you're married to your boyfriend/girlfriend!! You will only feel stupid when you two break up. :) Live the good life and don't take this young love shit so seriously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It don't mean a damn thanggg. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In good time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mere&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1488439151391111827-4961045346237709055?l=merelosophies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/feeds/4961045346237709055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-in-million.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/4961045346237709055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/4961045346237709055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-in-million.html' title='One in a million....?'/><author><name>Meredith Miles</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O59v_UUJKu0/TzQ61RdxRbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/mk29UCPfKg4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488439151391111827.post-5239541061623086723</id><published>2009-02-21T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T13:35:36.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumping on the bandwagon...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Welcome to my blog!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Recently it seems many people are joining this world of blogging, so I decided, why not? My good friend Martha and her cousin Madge both have excellent blogs of which I read regularly. (As well as Dlisted....)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;I've decided to start with something I have been thinking about often the past couple of weeks- do you really know your friends/boyfriend/girlfriend/or whoever it may be as well as you think you do? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;.....probably not. It is quite surprising actually how different the people you think you know can turn out to be. It could be a good thing, but in the majority of my experiences with these types of situations it is not. It is only normal to go into a relationship (friendship, romantically, or whatever) thinking someone is exactly who they say they are, I mean why in the world would anyone portray themselves as someone else!? Well... WATCH OUT. There are people out there who actually do that kind of thing. You might think you know someone and four months later, or even three years later they turn out to be someone totally different and for sure not the kind of person you wanted to invest that much time in to. But fear not, you can avoid this for the most part by watching your back and removing yourself from the situation at the first sign of faulty behavior. Don't get me wrong, people do of course make mistakes. But mistake after mistake, apology after apology = very bad sign. If they talk the talk and don't walk the walk, BAD NEWS BEARS. So be careful, keep your guard up until you know just what kind of person you're dealing with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;And another thing, thumbs down to the person who said "keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer", BAD IDEA. You don't want your enemies all up in your business, at least I don't!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Anyway, today is the day we celebrate Rachael's birthday so I need to take a nap before we start the festivities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Until next time,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Mere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1488439151391111827-5239541061623086723?l=merelosophies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/feeds/5239541061623086723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/02/jumping-on-bandwagon.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/5239541061623086723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488439151391111827/posts/default/5239541061623086723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://merelosophies.blogspot.com/2009/02/jumping-on-bandwagon.html' title='Jumping on the bandwagon...'/><author><name>Meredith Miles</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O59v_UUJKu0/TzQ61RdxRbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/mk29UCPfKg4/s220/photo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
