<?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-10023997</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:14:42.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting Over</title><subtitle type='html'>If i die before i wake i pray the one my soal to take, if i wake before i die bless me with your smile.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>82</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-3634948815950340196</id><published>2007-06-02T06:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T06:38:21.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>K2S - Memories</title><content type='html'>I can’t stop playing this song, it’s been a month and a half and this song plays over and over in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;K2S - Memories&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Verse one:&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a long time now right about five years&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;nothing but tears running down my face wishing you were here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause life ain’t the same no more that your gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I miss those days you were here now were all alone&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know who to blame so all I ask is why&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why did you have to die it wasn’t your time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You were still in your prime, you had many days&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I miss the way you made me happy in so many ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nothing can change what happened but I wish I could&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take a trip back in time and make it all good&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love you so much and I miss you dearly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wish you were near me everyday wish I can hear you say&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything’s gonna be all right just have faith in God&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And one day well meet again even though it’s hard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All I want is for you just to see&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That I’ll always hold close to my heart ...Precious Memories&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chorus:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Since the day you went away I haven’t been the same&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think I’m going insane calling out your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Living life ain’t the same since you’ve been gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And even though your not here your memory lives on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(2x)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Verse two:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I still remember the day you passed away and left me here on this Earth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How I felt at the church, the hurt when I saw the hearse&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Carry your casket to the graveyard, seen your body for the last time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All of these memories flooded my mind&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The conversations we had, the times we shared,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The good and bad, happy and sad, you were there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You meant the world to me nobody can replace ya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You’re written on my heart no one can erase ya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’d give all I own just to have another day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To spend some time with you, make another memory&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If I had a clue your days on Earth were about to end&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’d a told you I loved you and hugged you more often&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But for now, all I can do is reminece about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but one things true&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’m a see you again in heaven until then&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’ll be missing you like 24/7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-3634948815950340196?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/3634948815950340196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=3634948815950340196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/3634948815950340196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/3634948815950340196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2007/06/k2s-memories.html' title='K2S - Memories'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-7310954055783161430</id><published>2007-05-28T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T06:43:26.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Since Christmas</title><content type='html'>Well I guess it’s been a bit, definitely allot has changed since the last post. I don’t even know how to express my life in the past year or where to begin. Things have been a mess and I’m just living day by day, not letting any one into my little world. I guess nor do I really want any one in there, at least not yet.. Every one that has tried to get close to me I'd just push away and deny there help telling I’m fine. I’m trying to live on and start fresh but I have these weights that are dragging me down. I guess it’s been since before Christmas since if last bogged I guess I never really felt the desire too. I never really know who is reading my posts or who even really cares what I have to say, pulse I figured after a while verbal dialog and interaction with actual people and not just tags and comments would be much more therapeutic and meaningful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The death of my mother has been a really tremendous blow to me though I don’t show it much its eating me up inside. Taking care of her was all I knew the last five years all I new was to survive and care fore her, I know that some say its a burden off my shoulders and hers and that its probably for the best that she is in a better place, but she was never a burden to me and if I had to, id do it to my death.. Yes it’s true that at time her and I where totally butting heads when she was feeling up to the challenge but it never drove a stake between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess she really started to get sick around mid January early February, she would always have chronic nose bleeds that would keep us up will 4 in the morning with towels soaked in blood. It became more and more frequent that I would have to get up in the night to take care of her, emptying puke buckets of blood and vomit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around early march she had totally quit her volunteer job at the mission food center and bread center because the illness had driven her weak, she had become very slim and frail. Her apatite was diminishing and her memory was fading. By the beginning of March she was couch bound barley able to muster the strength to make it to the bathroom. She would make it half way and have to take rest ether by sitting on the kitchen floor or by leaning heavily against the counter; she always needed my help to get back up and to any where she needed to go. By mid march she was at her last straw, so had I. I was watching her fade away by now her memory was almost at a total depletion, her skin like elastics, like as if there was no muscle beneath it. Her hair had become matted and totally entangled from not bathing in a couple weeks. The whites of her eyes where yellow and brown tint, the bags beneath her eyes where sunken so low. When she tried to talk to me she made no sense at all just mimicked everything she seen on television. I couldn’t have a conversation with her and didn’t since end of March. I was at the point where I had to drag her around on a bathroom floor mat just to get her to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of March I couldn’t do it any more I just couldn’t watch her suffer. Desiree had just come home from some trip and every one was out doing things they needed to do, so I dropped my sister off at a friends and they took her out mini golfing. I had walked up to my work place to catch some air and relax just after I got mom to sleep, I met up with my pastor Greg and I told him that I needed to administer mom into the hospital so he helped me take her in and sat with me for a good few hours while I collected my thoughts. Mom had spent a good week in a room with a few other patients; she was still confused and deteriorating rapidly. Her skin on her lips was breaking off and bleeding and her apatite was gone for good by that point. Every time we visited her we had to suet up in ridicules looking outfits because she was in isolation, it never bothered us really we where just glad to spend as much time with her as we could. After a while of visiting her it slowly donned on me that I don’t think that there is any thing that they could really do to help her but just make her conferrable. by this point we could finally get a hold of dad and he came to mission, after almost 2 weeks of taking care of all the home, financial and livening arraignments I was glad he stepped in. when he stepped in there was a meeting called to determine the outcome of the situation and to discuss moms condition. We where told that mom would be transported to palliative care witch is on the third floor witch is considered the final stop, the place where they make the patients and there family comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom was in her own room with many home accommodations, it was even nicer in her room then her own room in some ways. She was made very comfortable as promised and had many visitors constantly. The doctor had told us it wouldn’t be long till she passes and that it would be best if we said out good byes, we where given as long as we needed and we all shed our tears. And spend the next few days as much as possible with her. when Easter came around I came to see her as soon as I could I stayed by her side all day and was buy her all night when she was awake I talked to her and sang to her and when she was sleeping I watched her breath just to make sure she had one more breath after the last. Mom passed 7:45 AM April 14 2007 I was at work when my dad came too see me and whispered in my ear, I quickly found some one to cover and went we went home to wake up every one else. We arrived at the hospital and sat with her for a moment and cried. Her funeral was a bit later it was suttle and short, but meaning full. I gave a speech and told a poem I wrote for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In my heart you shall rest as a flame of love&lt;br /&gt; In my mind you will remain as memories of strength&lt;br /&gt;You will never die down, nor shall you fade away&lt;br /&gt;Your spirit will continue for years as an example of your stubbornness&lt;br /&gt;Softly you touched the lives of many with your humbleness&lt;br /&gt;During your life you cared for all without ever closing your doors&lt;br /&gt;We have shared many tears and smiles, pain and sorrows&lt;br /&gt;While each day held small fortunes of joy&lt;br /&gt; Hand in hand we four stand as pillars completing your image&lt;br /&gt;As you rest in a better place, you shall never be forgotten&lt;br /&gt;This world is walked by many angels of all kinds&lt;br /&gt;You’ve just earned your wings&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For five years mom had told me that she was ill from cancer and after that meeting I found out that that’s not true. All moms’ life she had been a drinker, I guess for the longest time I played a blind eye to it and thought it to be normal or casual occurrence. I never new to what extent it was damaging her she always told me it helps with the cancer. Five years she could have prevented the outcome it had lead too, but she chose another rout. Mom had died of liver frailer due to drinking excessively. It’s opened up my eyes significantly and I think twice before drinking heavily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-7310954055783161430?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7310954055783161430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=7310954055783161430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/7310954055783161430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/7310954055783161430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2007/05/since-christmas.html' title='Since Christmas'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-116319762563325642</id><published>2006-11-10T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T14:27:05.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CAN I LIVE</title><content type='html'>my favorit song right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hotget.com/videocode/T-Bone-Can_I_Live--12191.html"&gt;http://www.hotget.com/videocode/T-Bone-Can_I_Live--12191.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-116319762563325642?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/116319762563325642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=116319762563325642' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116319762563325642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116319762563325642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/11/can-i-live.html' title='CAN I LIVE'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-116236729251340742</id><published>2006-10-31T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T00:43:32.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HEDLEY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Trip"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some say love is not for sinners&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I believe that isn't true'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause when I was finished sinning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love came down and showed me you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you told me how to get there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I tried to find a way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then I ran into your garden&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I tripped out the gate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I tripped out the gate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What are you doing to me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm so into you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the hardest part is knowing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That I'll never follow through&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I wish it wasn't true&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause I'm so into you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like a ton of bricks it hit me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And woke me from this dream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No matter how hard I tried to wash my hands&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I could never get 'em clean&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I could never get 'em clean&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What are you doing to me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm so into you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the hardest part is knowing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That I'll never follow through&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I wish it wasn't true&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause I'm so into you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you hear me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cuz I can't change what I'll always be&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-116236729251340742?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/116236729251340742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=116236729251340742' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116236729251340742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116236729251340742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/10/hedley.html' title='HEDLEY'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-116146359976767015</id><published>2006-10-21T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T13:46:42.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Antonio</title><content type='html'>Things have gotten really bad. I’ve been trying to pretend I’m fine and its hurting me, no one really knows what’s going on in my life any more. You see my friend Antonio has become very sick he’s one of my best friends. He’s the guy I go 4 motor bike rides with and to the movies allot. he’s the type of guy I could tell any thing too and just be my self, wed make fun of each other so bad and even make big seans in the middle of stores just for fun. about 3 weeks ago I was visiting him on a Saturday like we usually do every Saturday and we had went to the movies, and when he was dropping me off at home he was sort of silent and gave me a odd look and told me that he would be away for 3 months and that was our last visit 4 a while. It really bummed me out but he told me he would call every week to see how things are going and to say hi. well the first week went by and things where going good I missed him a bit but I was just glad he was off doing his own thing, the same with the second week I was just glad to talk to him. Yesterday I got a call from him; it was 3 hours late witch I thought was odd because he is usually on time from when he calls. I knew something was up with him at this point, so he began to tell me that he was flown to Ontario to be placed in the hospital. and that he’s really sick, a while ago he was diagnosed with diabetes but now its gotten so bad that he cant eat any thing because the slightest morsel of food could sent his blood sugars drastically high or down so he needs to be fed through intervenes just to stay alive. But the problem with this is that he has become use to not eating and he has developed anorexia and depression so now between the hospital and psychiatrics ward he has getting worse. The last time I talked to him yesterday he was talking as if he wasn’t going to make it back home witch has been terrifying me. I really don’t want to lose one of my best friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-116146359976767015?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/116146359976767015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=116146359976767015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116146359976767015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116146359976767015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/10/antonio.html' title='Antonio'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-116070056504478683</id><published>2006-10-12T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T17:49:25.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a riddle</title><content type='html'>A riddle has been thrown at me and I just cant figure it out :S lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; There’s only 3 words in the English language that ends in gry 1 is angry the second is hungry now what’s the third?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only rules are u cant use the internet to figure it out, you can ask your friends, but they cant use the internet either. lol have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-116070056504478683?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/116070056504478683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=116070056504478683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116070056504478683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116070056504478683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/10/riddle.html' title='a riddle'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-116054598667098729</id><published>2006-10-10T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T22:53:06.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The last few months have been pretty interesting I’ve been scrounging for jobs but always been able to some how stay employed. I’ve been working all summer at tom hoods new house he was building. I’ve learned so much and got a sweet envious tan lol j/k. I guess it’s been my first steady job and I went a bit frivolous with my money but I had a good time. For the first time I never had to worry about having money in my pocket. Now that school has started up I’ve been slugging along complaining but an just glad I’m out soon lol. When I’m out I just can’t wait to start trade school and start my direction of my carpentry career, its going to be awesome and I have so many connections to allot of people. I’m glad my talent is recognized when I put my mind so passionately to what I do. Any thing to do with wood and I’m so there, concrete is fun too lol. Any one need any thing built? hehehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-116054598667098729?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/116054598667098729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=116054598667098729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116054598667098729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/116054598667098729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/10/last-few-months-have-been-pretty.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115982932387754895</id><published>2006-10-02T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T15:48:43.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lol</title><content type='html'>Even though I where a hat now I desperately need a hair cut. My hair is getting so long hahaha just thought id let every one no&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115982932387754895?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115982932387754895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115982932387754895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115982932387754895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115982932387754895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/10/lol.html' title='lol'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115966665162911777</id><published>2006-09-30T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T18:37:31.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Question.</title><content type='html'>Now a question for you... If you were to die today, would you go to heaven? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your answer was "because Jesus died for me", you can pretty much close this out.. pZ!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for those that didn't have that answer... peep these three verses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ephesians 2:8-9...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- not by works, so that no one can boast. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only way to be saved from Hell, is by grace which can be obtained through faith. Grace is a free gift, from Who? The verse says God, not from works. Meaning there is no amount of "good" stuff you can do in your lifetime that will make you worthy of heaven. Only way to get to heaven is through faith, but faith in Who? Next verse explains that one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;John 3:16...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who does is sound like the verse is describing here? None other then Jesus Christ. So we need to put our faith in Jesus Christ to be saved from Hell. The verse says that we need to believe in Him, but what about Him do we need to believe? Next verse...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Romans 10:9...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Two simple requirements for salvation. Thats all you have to do. Pray to God that you are a sinner and need Jesus to save you and come into your heart, and believe that God raised Jesus from the dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours, Cross Movement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115966665162911777?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115966665162911777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115966665162911777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115966665162911777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115966665162911777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/09/just-question.html' title='Just a Question.'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115872908101652494</id><published>2006-09-19T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T22:11:21.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Haha I like to think I can write music, I’m pretty bad at it and every song I writ sounds the same in its own ways. I’v sent my best one out for criticism and gotten some good feed back so i guess it cant be all that bad. Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;woodin plate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is what I have brought to you enough?&lt;br /&gt;There isn’t much for me to offer you&lt;br /&gt;With my wooden plate bearing nothing buts scarps&lt;br /&gt;I offer it all before the lord&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chrois)&lt;br /&gt;My wooden plate lined in tears&lt;br /&gt;Cracked and broken&lt;br /&gt;Held together souly by my prayers&lt;br /&gt;How much will ever be enough?&lt;br /&gt;Take it all o holey one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you sit before all these plates on your glorious white table&lt;br /&gt;There all made of silver and gold&lt;br /&gt;Lined in pearls and jewels&lt;br /&gt;How will mine ever measure up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve walked down many paths&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen many things&lt;br /&gt;I’ve done many bads and hurt many things&lt;br /&gt;All I need is one chance,&lt;br /&gt;A chance to do right and clear my plate of stains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chrois)&lt;br /&gt;My wooden plate lined in tears&lt;br /&gt;Cracked and broken&lt;br /&gt;Held together souly by my prayers&lt;br /&gt;How much will ever be enough?&lt;br /&gt;Take it all o holey one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On judgment day&lt;br /&gt;I am before you on my knees&lt;br /&gt;Tears in my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Won’t you take me please?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115872908101652494?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115872908101652494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115872908101652494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115872908101652494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115872908101652494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/09/haha-i-like-to-think-i-can-write-music.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115766027630819620</id><published>2006-09-07T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T13:17:56.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hell in this cell</title><content type='html'>I’m sitting here in my Science and Tec class absolutely bored out of my head. Today and yesterday for class alone he just assigned us a paragraph of just our opinion if astronomy and biology yesterday I finished the astronomy one in 15 mints and played games the rest of class. Today I did the biology paragraph in 10 minutes now I’m sick of the games and am getting irritated with the teacher that the work is too easy. I’m stuck in this class with a bunch of kids that think the easy work is cool and would totally kill me if I pressed the situation any further. I really hope it gets a bit harder I know that this is an adapted class but come on I might as well be righting in crayon right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115766027630819620?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115766027630819620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115766027630819620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115766027630819620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115766027630819620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/09/hell-in-this-cell.html' title='hell in this cell'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115743538800063230</id><published>2006-09-04T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T22:51:14.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponder on a moment</title><content type='html'>Sitting in my room pondering my insecurities, wondering what its like to live a care free life. Lay back and just watch the sun roll by with out a thought to my name till it sets with punctual grace. No matter the lifestyle there’s always ones doughts and havocs that are so meaningless that bring our attention away from god. No matter the lies we say where fine and tell our selves things are going splendidly there’s always doughts in our selves that are un trust in gods plan for us all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115743538800063230?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115743538800063230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115743538800063230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115743538800063230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115743538800063230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/09/ponder-on-moment.html' title='Ponder on a moment'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115709845166944021</id><published>2006-09-01T00:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T13:13:59.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If X could read the heart like a book, then X read like a dyslexic.&lt;br /&gt;The words are right in front of X then why don’t they make sense?&lt;br /&gt;How do X find hidden words? or miss read words too?&lt;br /&gt;How do X straighten a mixed message?&lt;br /&gt;When X skip a page who will let X know?&lt;br /&gt;When X reed to fast or slow what dose it hurt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the letter X just looks like a bunch of random mixed up words, things will never make sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115709845166944021?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115709845166944021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115709845166944021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115709845166944021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115709845166944021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/09/if-x-could-read-heart-like-book-then-x.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115630265553102000</id><published>2006-08-22T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T20:10:55.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what would you do?</title><content type='html'>One Sunday morning during service, a 2,000 member congregation was surprised to see two men enter, both covered from head to toe in black and carrying submachine guns. One of the men proclaimed, "Anyone willing to take a bullet for Christ remain where you are." Immediately, the choir fled, the deacons fled, and most of the congregation fled. Out of the 2,000 there only remained around 20. The man who had spoken took off his hood, looked at the preacher and said "Okay Pastor, I got rid of all the hypocrites. Now you may begin your service. Have a nice day!" And the two men turned and walked out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115630265553102000?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115630265553102000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115630265553102000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115630265553102000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115630265553102000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-would-you-do.html' title='what would you do?'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115121215540638819</id><published>2006-06-24T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T23:12:32.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It has bean a difficult transition but I am now instead of doing school work and slacking off all day, I am working full time construction. its bean quite the journey if I do say, from getting up at 8 with about 20 minutes to wake up and get ready for school with time left over to sit for a bit, to up at 6 getting ready for work and out by 7:30. There is so much I have to do now that I’m out of school, I’m working 3 jobs at the moment and things are stacking up around me its bean hard to find time for Christ. I mean I haven’t bean to church in 3 weeks and youth in like 4 and I don’t even no what’s going on with yay god any more. Today I was a bit frustrated because I couldn’t find a ride to club365 but I guess it was ok because I needed the time to lie down and chill out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think yesterday was probably one of the most intense days in a long time for me. It started off by me waking up late 4 works and running around to get ready then working 4 about 8.5 - 9 hours in the scorching sun witch I got burned pretty dark then after work I went straight to the lap-a-thon where I ran for 2 hours and came out with 40 laps. When I was running my asthma was hurting me so bad every breath was agony, shear pain rushing thru my body, but I tried my best and always tried to find something to inspire me to keep going. Some laps it was the kids that we where doing this for some laps where for friends and some where for my papa who was watching from the sky. Finally when the day was over I came home and ate pretty much EVERY THING in the fridge (well it seemed like everything at the time) and when straight to bed. Over all I had a really good day some challenges but I overcame then to the best of my abilities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115121215540638819?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115121215540638819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115121215540638819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115121215540638819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115121215540638819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-has-bean-difficult-transition-but-i.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-115005565460257760</id><published>2006-06-11T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T12:54:14.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have such a hard time dealing with change. I always want everything to be the same always that way there is no surprises. It’s like when something happens completely out of no where it takes me a long time to process what is really going on. It’s like I put reality on hold for a wile just so it will all process what is going on. And after things happen then it takes along time for me to feel normal. My problem is that I’m always trying to live in the past; I’m always looking back instead of ahead. I never want to leave my comfort zone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-115005565460257760?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/115005565460257760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=115005565460257760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115005565460257760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/115005565460257760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-have-such-hard-time-dealing-with.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114982671343638975</id><published>2006-06-08T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T21:18:33.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>end of school</title><content type='html'>School is almost out and I’m pretty stoked bought it. I have been working like a dog trying to get every thing done before the end of the year. i have just officially finished my bed and I have just finished my science and now I’m trying to finish all my write ups for tottering. But the one thing that is really killing me is my socials, its getting hard for me to finish. I’m really worried that I won’t get it all done. O well I guess I really got to sit down and do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114982671343638975?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114982671343638975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114982671343638975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114982671343638975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114982671343638975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/06/end-of-school.html' title='end of school'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114949392165223612</id><published>2006-06-05T00:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T00:52:01.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>new job</title><content type='html'>I got a job! lol the past week I have been working at subway. It’s been really interesting working down there. I’ve been working downtown just 2 blocks from my place witch is very convenient. It is always a pleasure to work there; the employs that I work with are nothing but rad all of them full of exuberance and spunk. It’s a bit odd that I am the first guy that has been hired down there in 3 years but I guess I really made an impression. ether that or they where just getting sick of seeing my face every week with a resume lol j/k. the only thing that is a bit frustrating is the fact that they are wanting me to close by my self so soon and I haven’t really learned all the proper procedures. I’m so nervous that I will screw up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114949392165223612?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114949392165223612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114949392165223612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114949392165223612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114949392165223612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/06/new-job.html' title='new job'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114784734163261784</id><published>2006-05-16T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T23:29:01.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A coward is not a man who runs from pain, that man is just afraid for his wellbeing.&lt;br /&gt;A coward is not a man who runs from his feelings, that man is just confused.&lt;br /&gt;A coward is not a man who hides from being chastised, that man is just shameful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A true coward is a man who cannot admit that god is our savior; the man who turns his back to the lord shall make the heavens weep in pity for his eternal damnation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114784734163261784?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114784734163261784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114784734163261784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114784734163261784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114784734163261784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/05/coward-is-not-man-who-runs-from-pain.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114766809005581241</id><published>2006-05-14T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T21:41:30.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>christian math</title><content type='html'>A ten year old public school boy was finding fifth grade math to be the challenge of his life. Science? A piece of cake. Geography? No big deal. Spelling? Ha! Give me a break...but MATH? It was devastating! To not only him, but his mom and dad, too! And not that they weren't doing everything and anything to help their son...Private tutors, peer assistance, CD-ROMS, Textbooks, even HYPNOSIS! Nothing worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at the insistence of a family friend, they decided to enroll their son in a private school. Not just ANY private school, but a Catholic school. Nuns. Daily mass. The whole shootin' match. Well, the first day of school finally arrived, and dressed in his salt-and-pepper cords and white wool dress shirt and blue cardigan sweater, the youngster ventured out into the great unknown. His mother and father were convinced they were doing the right thing. They were both there waiting for their son when he returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when he walked in with a stern, focused and very determined expression on his face, they hoped they had made the right choice. He walked right past them and went straight to his room - and quietly closed the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For nearly two hours he toiled away in his room - with math books strewn about his desk and the surrounding floor. He only emerged long enough to eat, and after quickly cleaning his plate, he went straight back to his room, closed the door, and worked feverishly at his studies until bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pattern continued ceaselessly until it was time for the first quarter report card. After school, the boy walked into the home with his report card - unopened - in his hand. Without a word, he dropped the envelope on the family dinner table and went straight to his room. His parents were petrified. What lay inside the envelope? Success? Failure? DOOM?!? Patiently, cautiously the mother opened the letter, and to her amazement, she saw a bright red "A" under the subject, MATH. Overjoyed, she and her husband rushed into their son's room, thrilled at the remarkable progress of their young son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Was it the nuns that did it?", the father asked.&lt;br /&gt;The boy only shook his head and said, "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Was it the one-on-one tutoring? The peer-mentoring?", asked the mother.&lt;br /&gt;Again, the boy shrugged, "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The textbooks? The teacher? The curriculum?", asked the father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope," said the son. "It was all very clear to me from the very first day of school, that these folks in Catholic school meant business!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How so?", asked his mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When I walked into the lobby, and I saw that guy they'd nailed to the plus sign, I knew they meant business!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114766809005581241?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114766809005581241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114766809005581241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114766809005581241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114766809005581241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/05/christian-math.html' title='christian math'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114731558885542502</id><published>2006-05-10T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T19:46:28.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Atheist in the woods</title><content type='html'>An atheist was taking a walk through the woods, admiring all that the accident of evolution had created. "What majestic trees! What powerful rivers! What beautiful animals!" he said to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he walked alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. He turned to look, just in time to see a 7-foot grizzly charge towards him. He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder &amp; saw the bear closing in on him. He tried to run even faster, so scared that tears were coming to his eyes. He looked over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His heart was pumping frantically as he tried to run even faster, but he tripped and fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up and saw the bear right on top of him raising his paw to kill him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that instant, he cried out, "Oh my God!"&lt;br /&gt;Just then, time stopped... The bear froze; the forest was silent; even the river stopped moving. A bright light shone upon the man, and a voice came out of the sky, saying, "You deny My existence all of these years; teach others I don't exist; even credit My creation to a cosmic accident, and now do you expect Me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The atheist, ever so proud, looked into the light and said, "It would be rather hypocritical to ask to be a Christian after all these years. But could you make the bear a Christian?"&lt;br /&gt;"Very well," said the voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the light went out, the river ran, the sounds of the forest continued, and the bear put his paw down. The man breathed a sigh of relief. Then the bear brought both paws together, bowed his head and said: "Lord, I thank you for this food, which I am about to receive."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114731558885542502?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114731558885542502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114731558885542502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114731558885542502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114731558885542502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/05/atheist-in-woods.html' title='Atheist in the woods'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114678984062954843</id><published>2006-05-04T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T17:44:00.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Born Again Monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;There once lived a vampire the legends say, who couldn't stand blood in any way. While others hunted and killed for delight, this monster would hide, for fear of the night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And when others drank from throats and fled, this strange one kissed their necks instead. And when the victims screamed their fears, he'd talk to them, and dry their tears. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When monsters roam the streets at night, this beastly thing would sit and write. Stories and poems of love and pain, written to those who have been slain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now no one knows why he did such things, but legends say God gave him wings. And to this day the legends state, he stands outside, of Heaven's Gate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So when you die and see him there, go talk to him if you dare. He'll kiss your cheek, and dry your tears and wipe away, all your fears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Even a monster who is born to fright, can turn to God, and do what's right. Even a man who is born to sin, can turn to God, and be BORN AGAIN. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114678984062954843?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114678984062954843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114678984062954843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114678984062954843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114678984062954843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/05/born-again-monster.html' title='Born Again Monster'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114629566763840812</id><published>2006-04-28T23:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T00:27:47.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty laundry</title><content type='html'>Have you ever taken something so far that you are grasping at straws? The past couple weeks I have been putting off doing my laundry that I ran out of all things decent and clean. I started wherein my raggedy old working cloths instead of just washing my laundry. Being a bum was cool for the most part other them always making sure I had clean under where. I had just recently lost all my bum cloths to that ever lasting pile of dirty clothing so all day yesterday and today I have been washing and folding so many loads of laundry and theirs just a bit more lol. Well I’m going to just start the cycle over again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114629566763840812?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114629566763840812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114629566763840812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114629566763840812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114629566763840812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/dirty-laundry.html' title='Dirty laundry'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114610647239506755</id><published>2006-04-26T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T19:54:32.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long day</title><content type='html'>Man today was a bit of a long day, I had gotten out of school after lunch to go for a dentist appointment. My appointment was at 2 O’clock so I had gone to the Williams and met up with Nathan where we went out to pick up some stuff for his tree planting. He had dropped me off at his place and I walked down to the dentist at 2. there I found out I had a lot of work needed to my face, but I got a good percent off the bill due to the fact that I’m paying out of my own pocket and that I’m under age. After I was released from that infernal tooth torture I had walked over to riverside to make an appointment with Mr. Weir about going into carpentry after high school. He was busy so I walked with a friend to his place for food and to just wais time and when I got there a repair man had shown up to fix their dryer, turns out he was a good buddy if mine from my past that I haven’t seen in about 4 years we got to walking wile he was fixing there dryer and then I had to leave. I had gotten a ride home to change my cloths and then Nathan picked me up at home. When I got here the smell of garlic was so overwhelming. We had pasta and now where sitting here watching family guy and eating/drinking slurpees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114610647239506755?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114610647239506755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114610647239506755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114610647239506755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114610647239506755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/long-day.html' title='Long day'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114601279991394879</id><published>2006-04-25T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T22:03:45.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oops</title><content type='html'>Today I have been having really bad luck with my fingers. So far I have scraped the top layer of skin of my pinky and accidentally dipped it in stain (ouch!) then got blood all over my project in wood work, then I was using the jointer and kept hitting my hand on the back fence I got a couple scrapes there, then I put my hand down on the table and my buddy accidentally smashed it with a rubber mallet. If I keep up hurting my self I would be considered the next beau. LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114601279991394879?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114601279991394879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114601279991394879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114601279991394879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114601279991394879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/oops.html' title='oops'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114581031218976017</id><published>2006-04-23T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T09:38:32.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Ruth Story</title><content type='html'>Ruth went to her mailbox and there was only one letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She read the letter: Dear Ruth: I'm going to be in your neighborhood Saturday afternoon and I would like to visit. Love Always, Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. "Why would the Lord want to visit me? I'm nobody special. I don't have anything to offer." With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets. "Oh my goodness, I really don't have anything to offer. I'll have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner." She reached for her purse and counted out it's contents. Five dollars and forty cents,&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least." She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk...leaving Ruth with grand total of twelve cents to last her until Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings tucked under her arm. "Hey lady, can you help us, lady?" Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans she hadn't even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags. "Look lady, I ain't got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living out here on the street, and, well, now it's getting cold and we're getting kinda hungry and, well, if you could help us, lady, we'd really appreciate it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to. "Sir, I'd like to help you, but I'm a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I'm having an important guest for dinner tonight and I was planning on serving that to Him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, well, okay lady, I understand. Thanks anyway." The man put his arm around the woman's shoulders, turned and he headed back into the alley. As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart. "Sir, wait!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them. "Look, why don't you take this food. I'll figure out something else to serve my guest." She handed the man her grocery bag. "Thank you lady. Thank you very much!" "Yes, thank you!" It was the man's wife, and Ruth could see now that she was shivering. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I've got another coat at home. Here, why don't you take this one." Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman's shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street...without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest. "Thank you lady! Thank you very much!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried too. The Lord was coming to visit and she didn't have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox. "That's odd. The mailman doesn't usually come twice in one day." She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ruth: It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely meal. And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat. Love Always, Jesus. The air was still cold, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114581031218976017?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114581031218976017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114581031218976017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114581031218976017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114581031218976017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/dear-ruth-story.html' title='Dear Ruth Story'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114549840453745136</id><published>2006-04-19T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T19:00:04.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wood</title><content type='html'>Yay my bed is almost done at school. It looks too big lol I don’t really know what I’m going to do if it don’t fit, maybe Ill just buy a new matures. I really love doing woodwork, I look at a science, socials or math page's and its always Greek to me but when I look at a board I can see the potential, everything just makes sense too me. Sure I do have my screw ups and I don’t really know everything but that’s the best part, I’m always learning in a language i understand and enjoy. at times I spend 3 of my 4 classes a day in wood work I just cant stay out lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114549840453745136?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114549840453745136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114549840453745136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114549840453745136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114549840453745136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/wood.html' title='Wood'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114542593773511992</id><published>2006-04-18T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T22:52:17.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Farapopachi</title><content type='html'>I’ve decided to change allot of things in my life. I’ve decided to stop being a pessimist and enjoy life. I’m getting sick of dragging my but out of bed and expect the worst every day. Life is full of disappointments and hurt its ether take it like a man and cope with issues and fight them straight on, or you can just sit there and feel sorry for your self. Every day is a new adventure I don’t want to watch it roll bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114542593773511992?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114542593773511992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114542593773511992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114542593773511992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114542593773511992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/farapopachi.html' title='Farapopachi'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114482843086363298</id><published>2006-04-11T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T23:42:41.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unholy Trinity</title><content type='html'>In the book Wild at Heart near the end it speaks of "the unholy trinity" witch consists of three elements: the world, the flesh, and the devil, there’s three daggers are the gaits to hell. Though powerful individually, with combining forces it will ultimately lead to sin and fulfillment of temptation. Let’s start with the enemy closest at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE FLESH&lt;br /&gt;The flesh is the sinful nature, that part of fallen Adam that every man/woman that always wants the easiest way out. Your flesh is a weasel, straight selfishness. But this flesh is not the real you, it’s the body god has created but not the sole he has custom built from his very love. Only the human flesh can carry out sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire. And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell. Matthew (18: 8,9)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE WORLD&lt;br /&gt;"The word" is fake. When you are leading a false life always hiding behind lies and pride. These men are battling only to build their own kingdoms. These cowards hide behind their own sense of power, position, degree, or title. But what if these men would lose these worldly positions? Would they still be them selves? To avoid this, realize who you are before what you are and climb down the ladder because god made us all as equals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE DEVIL&lt;br /&gt;The devil to a humanity is nothing but peer evil and trickery, he is the leader if temptation. He is the voice in your head that makes you wander from raucousness he plants evil thoughts and gets strength off your weaknesses. Though he cannot make you sin or do evil he is just merely a influence though we cannot see or hear him we can feel him through the suffering in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great and wondrous sin appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth. Then another sine appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on his heads. His tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky and flung them to the earth. The dragon stood if front of the woman who was about to give birth, so that he might devour her child the moment it was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who will rule all the nations with an iron scepter . . . and there was a war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But was not strong enough, and they lost there place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down--that ancient serpent called the devil or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him. (vv. 1-5, 7-9)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the dragon was enraged with the woman and went off to make war against the rest of her offspring--those who obey God’s commandments and holed to the testimony of Jesus. (rev. 12:17)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;credit to John Elridge: &lt;em&gt;WILD at HEART&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(and some I wrote, but mostaly him)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114482843086363298?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114482843086363298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114482843086363298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114482843086363298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114482843086363298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/unholy-trinity.html' title='The Unholy Trinity'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114471824139945244</id><published>2006-04-10T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T18:17:21.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heating pad</title><content type='html'>I want to take this time to thank my heating pad. Through out the night you keep me warm. There’s a crack at the top of my window and cold air is always seeping in plus the heating vents are not working so I never get hot air in my room. I sleep with a heating pad all the time it’s so warm especially in the winter. Though I have two blankets that are warm they are falling apart (kinda) my heating pad hasn’t broken yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114471824139945244?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114471824139945244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114471824139945244' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114471824139945244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114471824139945244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/heating-pad.html' title='Heating pad'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114438807405198813</id><published>2006-04-06T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T22:35:13.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Future</title><content type='html'>Have you ever met a man that sits behind a desk all day that could tell you a bought the time he almost lost his life because of the absence of quick wits or how his adrenalin was racing beyond control because he encountered a dangerous obstacle? No? Because these are the stories of fire fighters, loggers and hard core cola miners, ect… these men no what its like to live on the edge of a sward. Every day a new adventure, never knowing what is going to happen. Much different then pushing papers all day, not that there’s any thing wrong wit it and I don’t have any thing against people who do have a desk job but its just not exciting enough for me I need to know I’m not going to be doing the same thing every day over and over. I think that’s something I need in my life right now, to have my heart race beyond control, I need for my eyes to open and wonder what just happened. For my future career this is the same, not a constant thing like an adrenalin junky but I need to feel like I accomplished a great deal with some excitement. Though I still don’t know what I want with my life, I do no I need to be mentally and physically stimulated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114438807405198813?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114438807405198813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114438807405198813' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114438807405198813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114438807405198813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/future.html' title='Future'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114413583759784271</id><published>2006-04-03T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T00:30:37.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am i?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Who am I really? For all those who reed this blog if you don’t really post on my blog for what ever reason this is the time I ask the most. Tell me who you think I am please (be honest even if it’s not good, still say) if you don’t really no me then just reed my past posts and tell me what you think of me. The reason I ask is because I’m even having troubles answering that question. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114413583759784271?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114413583759784271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114413583759784271' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114413583759784271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114413583759784271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/who-am-i.html' title='Who am i?'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114391563275384035</id><published>2006-04-01T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T10:20:32.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>50ith blog</title><content type='html'>This is my official 50ith blog, YAY lol. Wow I know every one else is on there bazillionth blog, but 50 is a good accomplishment for me. I never thought id make it this far in the beginning, I mean it took me a wile to really get into it and there’s big gaps in dates published but I guess this over time will become perpetual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114391563275384035?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114391563275384035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114391563275384035' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114391563275384035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114391563275384035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/04/50ith-blog.html' title='50ith blog'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114377519658252071</id><published>2006-03-30T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T19:19:56.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i know your not going to see this but, &lt;strong&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEN!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114377519658252071?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114377519658252071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114377519658252071' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114377519658252071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114377519658252071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-know-your-not-going-to-see-this-but.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114368580620826227</id><published>2006-03-29T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T18:30:06.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tangled Hair</title><content type='html'>Beth was sitting at an airport terminal, waiting to board a plane. She was sitting there with several other people who were also waiting, whom she did not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she waited, she pulled out her Bible and started to read. All of a sudden she felt as if the people sitting there around her, were looking at her. She looked up, but realized that they were looking just over her head, in the direction right behind her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned to see what everyone was looking at, and when she did, she saw a stewardess pushing a wheelchair, with the ugliest old man sitting in it. It was the ugliest man she ever saw. She said he had this long white hair that was all tangled and such a mess. His face was really wrinkled, and he didn't look friendly at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't know why, but she felt drawn to the man, and thought at first that God wanted her to witness to him. In her mind she said she was thinking "Oh, God, please not now, not here."&lt;br /&gt;No matter what she did, she couldn't get the man off her mind, and all of a sudden she know what God wanted her to do. She was supposed to brush this man's hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went and knelt down in front of the old man, and said "Sir may I have the honor of brushing your hair for you?" He said "What?" She thought , "Oh great, he's hard of hearing." Again, a little louder she said "Sir, may I have the honor of brushing your hair for you?" He answered, "If you are going to talk to me, you are going to have to speak up, I am practically deaf."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this time, she was almost yelling, "Sir, May I please have the honor of brushing your hair for you?" Everyone was watching to see what his response would be. The old man just looked at her confused, and said "Well, I guess if you really want too." She said, "I don't even have a brush, but I thought I would ask anyway." He said, "Look in the bag hanging on the back of my chair, there is a brush in there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she got the brush out and started brushing his hair. (She has a little girl with long hair, so she has lots of practice getting tangles out, and knew how to be gentle with him.) She worked for a long time, until every last tangle was out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as she was finishing up, she heard the old man crying, and she went and put her hands on his knees, kneeling in front of him again looking directly into his eyes and said "Sir, do you know Jesus?" He answered, "Yes, of course I know Jesus. You see, my bride told me she couldn't marry me unless I knew Jesus, so I learned all about Jesus, and asked Him to come into my heart many years ago, before I married my bride."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continued, "You know, I am on my way home to go and see my wife. I have been in the hospital for a long time, and had to have a special surgery in this town far from my home. My wife couldn't come with me, because she is so frail herself. "He said, "I was so worried about how terrible my hair looked, and I didn't want her to see me looking so awful, but I couldn't brush my hair, all by myself." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears were rolling down his cheeks, as he thanked Beth for brushing his hair. He thanked her over and over again. She was crying, people all around witnessing this were crying, and as they were all boarding the plane, the stewardess, who was also crying, stopped her, and asked, "Why did you do that?" And right there was the opportunity, the door that had been opened to share with someone else, the love of God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't always understand God's ways, but be ready, He may use us to meet the need of someone else, like He met the need of this old man, and in a moment, also calling out to a lost soul who needed to know His love."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114368580620826227?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114368580620826227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114368580620826227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114368580620826227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114368580620826227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/tangled-hair.html' title='Tangled Hair'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114359461144937265</id><published>2006-03-28T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T17:10:11.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Making a bed</title><content type='html'>The past couple weeks I have been building a bed in wood work. I’m making it out of birch logs that I found in the dungeon (basement) of the school. The bed has kind of an oriental look to it with this nice sort of bar going across the top of the head board. It’s been kind of difficult because a friend and I are both making the same project but his will be simpler but I end up doing a fair share of his project with him. He’s the type that likes to fool around, and having allot of giggly girls in the class so he’s always a bit preoccupied. He’s not too bad at wood work but he just always needs help he’s not to familiar on how to do things sometimes. It doesn’t bother me really because I have another class that I peer tooter grade 8's I’m just always helping people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114359461144937265?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114359461144937265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114359461144937265' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114359461144937265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114359461144937265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/making-bed.html' title='Making a bed'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114352801864067007</id><published>2006-03-27T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T22:40:18.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No ones perfict</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed that the words “no ones perfict” are the biggest under statement ever? No matter how often you try you will never own up to every ones expatiations even your own fore that matter. It’s like its always right there in front of you but you can never just grasp it. Or maybe you try so hard at something that you totally forget you where doing other things with your life. There for, you become very aware of your settings in a certain field such as work or school but you become oblivious at home as to what has been going on. And at that instant you revert back to the home life because it has become corrupt and unsteady. Another example is just the fact that you can’t even do ant thing right. When ever you try you fail and become discouraged. I think trying to be perfect is like playing poker if you place small bets there’s lower chance of losing. With gradual small wins you slowly climb up the ladder with few small set backs. But when its high stakes and you go all in its possible to either gain everything or lose everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114352801864067007?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114352801864067007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114352801864067007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114352801864067007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114352801864067007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/no-ones-perfict.html' title='No ones perfict'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114326202093201978</id><published>2006-03-24T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T20:47:00.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I officially give up</title><content type='html'>That’s it I give up on this job! I’m getting sick and tired of hanging on to the word's "probably, maybe and hopefully". That’s all I have been saying for like a month, I guess deep down I new that things where to good to be true but I wanted to deny it. I was really holding on to this false hope of actually feeling like I’m going to make a difference with my self. I’m just so frustrated that I had allot of things planed with the money I would have been making and now I’m sort of back to square one, putting out resumes. I guess I’m just going to have to put allot of thing on hold again. at least there’s the knowledge that I no I can go to church still, and not have to get up at 5:45 to get ready to go to "work". O well; life isn’t easy, ill manage sooner or later to get work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114326202093201978?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114326202093201978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114326202093201978' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114326202093201978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114326202093201978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-officially-give-up.html' title='I officially give up'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114317966684763193</id><published>2006-03-23T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T20:50:01.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I got my book</title><content type='html'>Just got my drivers book yesterday, some how I went from having no book to having 2 each 4 Erin and I. I got my teacher to pick up 2 and her dad got 2 4 us. I already read 2 chapters and the book aint as big as I'd of thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114317966684763193?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114317966684763193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114317966684763193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114317966684763193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114317966684763193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-got-my-book.html' title='I got my book'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114301216807455793</id><published>2006-03-21T22:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T23:22:48.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where i want to be</title><content type='html'>Today I had a really blah day ever since after school. When I’m at home I feel like a out cast, like I’m always being judged, nothing I ever do around here is ever good enough. Some times I even just hate coming home. I use to never be around at home I was always at my friends place but mom got really pissed and gave me a guilt trip telling me that I hate the family and that I’m ashamed of them so I decided to stay at home to please her. But now that I am home every day I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m always looking fore excuses to get out, not having that many friends I some times just go for walks. I just can’t wait till that day where ill be free, free to live my own life with out having to feel excepted in to my own home, I want to live some place where I have respect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114301216807455793?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114301216807455793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114301216807455793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114301216807455793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114301216807455793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/where-i-want-to-be.html' title='Where i want to be'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114283287438490629</id><published>2006-03-19T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T21:34:34.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is You (I Have Loved)</title><content type='html'>There is something that I see&lt;br /&gt;In the way you look at me&lt;br /&gt;There’s a smile, there’s a truth&lt;br /&gt;In your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an unexpected way&lt;br /&gt;On this unexpected day&lt;br /&gt;Could it be this is where I belong&lt;br /&gt;It is you I have loved all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no more mystery, it is finally clear to me&lt;br /&gt;You’re the home my heart searched for so long&lt;br /&gt;And it is you I have loved all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were times I ran to hide&lt;br /&gt;Afraid to show the other side&lt;br /&gt;Alone in the night without you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I know just who you are&lt;br /&gt;And I know you hold my heart&lt;br /&gt;Finally this is where I belong&lt;br /&gt;And it is you I have loved all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no more mystery, it is finally clear to me&lt;br /&gt;You’re the home my heart searched for so long&lt;br /&gt;It is you I have loved all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and over I’m filled with emotion&lt;br /&gt;Your love, it rushes through my veins&lt;br /&gt;And I am filled with the sweetest devotion&lt;br /&gt;As I look into your perfect face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no more a mystery, it is finally clear to me&lt;br /&gt;You’re the home my heart searched for so long&lt;br /&gt;And it is you I have loved&lt;br /&gt;It is you I have loved&lt;br /&gt;It is you I have loved all along&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114283287438490629?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114283287438490629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114283287438490629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114283287438490629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114283287438490629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/it-is-you-i-have-loved.html' title='It Is You (I Have Loved)'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114244975162581811</id><published>2006-03-15T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T17:45:59.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The meaning of life to me</title><content type='html'>Some people don’t no what the meaning of life is, but in my personal opinion it’s what it means to every one individually. For me its beauty, the beauty of the soul and the spirit. If you look at it in my prospective, god made this world not just black and white but with all the colors under the rainbow and more. I feel that we were not only put on this earth to reproduce and survive as individuals but to gaze at the many mysteries of the earth. Have you ever watched a flower un-bloom or watch the tide come in? It’s the very essence that I am talking a bought, god made so meany beautiful things that we take for granted from day to day. If every one on earth just stopped their busy lives for just one moment and just gazed at something beautiful for even just a moment, weather it be from a flower to a child to even just the sun set then for just that moment we would have achieved world peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day after youth I was walking home because I just live a couple blocks up from the office and I seen this man sitting on the steps to the library, he had his head back and I couldn’t make out what he was doing. so I started to walk a bit slower u no just to see what he was up to, and when I realized what he was doing I just froze in amazement. He was praying, praying because he was really happy. Here’s a man that was homeless and had no job no money and no family, but as he was praying he had a smile on his face, the sort of smile I had never seen before it just meant "I’m truly happy". when I seen this pour man praying and smiling I was a bit hesitant to approach him but I let my curiosity get the best of me, so I slowly approached him wile he was praying and just sat next to him and then he suddenly stopped and looked at me with his huge smile and we got to talking for a few minutes and he said that he was praying for his family that all had passed of and he said that he was just glad that he will be able to see them when he passes away and he said that he was thinking god fore every thing that he had. And at that moment I was wondering what dose he have? I mean this guy has no possessions but the cloths on his back and the bead and small food scraps he had, after I was done talking to him I gave him some gum I had then we said our good buys and I came in side. When I got into my bed that night I realized that, that man had more then me in life. He had a better connection with god, he knew who he was and he was truly happy with his life. The reason I told this storey is because this is the true beauty I was talking a bought the beauty of god exists in him and that’s the real beauty that I think life is worth living for. The only regret I have is not asking him his name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114244975162581811?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114244975162581811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114244975162581811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114244975162581811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114244975162581811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/meaning-of-life-to-me.html' title='The meaning of life to me'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114244618468724215</id><published>2006-03-15T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T10:16:06.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>new blog</title><content type='html'>Hey I started a new blog its for photos and such. I hope you enjoy it :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://logans-photo.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://logans-photo.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114244618468724215?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114244618468724215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114244618468724215' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114244618468724215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114244618468724215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/new-blog.html' title='new blog'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114223888249673711</id><published>2006-03-13T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T00:34:42.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>good day</title><content type='html'>Man I just had an awesome day today. It started off sort of crapy but when I got to church I started to feel better, My smile started to come back. Even though I have been doing allot of waiting the past couple days, today just was awesome. I had went for a walk today with Erin’s parents and aunt wile she was working then they dropped me off at home and I got (sort of) dressed up fore dinner at there house. They picked me up then we had went down to Erin’s work to get her and went to her place where I was blasted with the aroma or inions, a bit overwhelming at first but I quickly had gotten use to it. The onion smell was coming from an onion soup that Erin’s aunt had made for the *French night* it was delicious. Then after a couple more coerces chicken, salad ect... we started a movie I can’t remember the name or the names of people in the movie but that’s ok. Erin had made a really good chocolate pie/brownie with whip cream and chocolate sprinkles. We sat and finished the movie and I had gotten a ride home. Today was so full of laughter and fun that I had totally forgotten my rough morning. I just can’t wait to see Erin again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114223888249673711?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114223888249673711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114223888249673711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114223888249673711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114223888249673711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/good-day.html' title='good day'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114188220598581556</id><published>2006-03-08T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T21:30:05.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I WANT TO DRIVE LOL</title><content type='html'>Man I’v been kicking my self in the but lately. I got to stop procrastinating, I need to get that drivers book. The problem is that I don’t no where to get it, nor do I have a ride out to get it. i guess I could ask one my many school staff connections for a ride out there but that dose seem a bit lame. It just I see allot of my friends getting there L that I feel like an infant (:P&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm any one have an extra book? lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114188220598581556?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114188220598581556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114188220598581556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114188220598581556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114188220598581556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-want-to-drive-lol.html' title='I WANT TO DRIVE LOL'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114163187054177367</id><published>2006-03-05T22:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T23:58:53.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What They Disire</title><content type='html'>Every respectable man wants to be able to sweep a woman off there feet and be so charming that u bring them to tears. We want them to feel truly happy inside there hearts and we want them to no that they are the only thing that is important. In life when you honestly do receive vulnerability and truly captivate a woman’s soul it is the most rewarding feeling in the world. When you no that there is someone that can’t wait to see you the next day even thou u just seen them all the day before, you know that she is truly infatuated with you. You do every thing in your best power to dazzle them because you want to show how much you appreciate them, see their beauty, and love their presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every woman wants a night in shining armor, some one to protect them through all the hardships, flayers and mistakes. They need a firm shoulder to cry on and desire a real charmer to lift their spirits and confidences. When I say that I don’t mean that they all want a macho "muscle head" but some one sweet but protective and a bit jealous of other men. Women need to no that they are safe, protected and loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114163187054177367?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114163187054177367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114163187054177367' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114163187054177367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114163187054177367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/what-they-disire.html' title='What They Disire'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-114151527408987167</id><published>2006-03-04T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T15:34:34.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Job</title><content type='html'>Hey I’m feeling fine now. Now that I’m better I have been really concerned with a job. I’ve sort of been given this new job working fore a tree toper ill be working a chain saw and a chipper. I’m sort of scared of messing up not hurting my self, but just do something wrong where ill get fired. I’m so grateful that I’m going to be employed, this will be my first steady job, ill be working every weekend for 6 to 8 hours a day. it sort of sucks because ill be missing church but it is a good thing that I will be out there making a difference with my life instead of just sitting here afraid to do any thing worried that ill get sick. I don’t want to be a vegetable any more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-114151527408987167?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/114151527408987167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=114151527408987167' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114151527408987167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/114151527408987167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/03/new-job.html' title='New Job'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113871228034800251</id><published>2006-01-31T04:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T04:58:00.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Later this morning</title><content type='html'>Well its 5'ish in the morning and I am really tired. I have been up since 12 thinking a bought what I am going to have to go through later this morning. Every one knows that I have been really sick and weak, but I have been getting a lot better and stronger since I have been out of the hospital. I have been able to attend school, yay-god, and church (mostly). But the in tire time I’ve been out I knew that everything is not yet over. You see I have only been an out patient and now I have to go back. I have to go back because last time I was in the hospital I had to take an EEG test, but wile taking the test my eyes became very aggravated and I broke out into a panic attack because of all the pain in my eyes and my head. I was rushed to my hospital room to be put on emergency oxygen and settled with a bit of Demerol. I hadn’t taken enough of the test to accurately figure out what the problem is, so now I have to go back to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it wasn’t fore Erin, family and close friend, I don’t think I would be able to do this at all. Ill admit I am so scared right now and I can’t stop thinking of all the pain to come, I have been crying my self to sleep fore the past few nights because of these same thoughts. It’s not only the pain I’m afraid of its having more seizures or worse yet having to stay in the hospital fore another few days. A-bought all I can do now is count my blessings and stay optimistic and trust in god that things will be ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113871228034800251?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113871228034800251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113871228034800251' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113871228034800251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113871228034800251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/01/later-this-morning.html' title='Later this morning'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113673998595430444</id><published>2006-01-08T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T09:06:25.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back on track</title><content type='html'>Well it’s Sunday morning and I’m waiting to go to church. It’s been a wile 4 me since I have been to church or any thing of the nature. It has really been hard to keep in close contact with god the past few weeks. I mean I admit it I don’t feel a healthy or strong relationship now.&lt;br /&gt;I have been so worked up with Christmas and the New Year and now that they are over all I have been thinking bought is what I’m going to be doing when I get out of high school. I have Erin’s dad helping me with a lot of job issues and Erin supporting every move I make but right now I need find a way of getting back on track with god.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113673998595430444?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113673998595430444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113673998595430444' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113673998595430444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113673998595430444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2006/01/back-on-track.html' title='Back on track'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113496631604190154</id><published>2005-12-18T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T20:25:16.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Extravaganza!</title><content type='html'>The extravaganza was a blast, when Erin and I got there she wasn’t feeling good so she sat out and I had been chosen to be a group leader. I had Mitch as my partner and we had been given a really rowdy bunch of kids (including Howard lol) so we came up with the team name rust buckets. After, we where no match in the sports we did fairly well but we weren’t quite the best and the relay races where really hard because me and Mitch had to carry 7 kids across the gym and back one at a time wile having the rest of the group hold on. that was rather exhausting then we had to make a enormous float with a pale of ice-cream and three 2L of pop (diet apple, orange, and coke eww) then our group had slugged all that down wile puking our guts out. after was the really disgusting stuff first was a glass of lime juice and second 2 raw eggs third was Tabasco sauce forth was a bowl of flour and fifth was a hole 4L of milk which I had guzzled down. I don’t think I have ever puked that much in my life. lol it was hard to drink because of all the float in my stomach. After the sixth person had to eat a live gold fish. After all this the points were tallied up and sins how we did pretty poorly on the sports but excellent on the disgusting stuff we came out 2nd over all. Second prize was a mug full of candy’s witch I had given to my brother. I really wasn’t in the right frame of mind to gorge down on a bunch of sweets. The ride home was ok not to many bumps but when I got home I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see my shower in my life lol.&lt;br /&gt;The next day my stomach was still hurting a bit and I had just smelled the milk jug in the fridge and went running to go and puke. Now I’m ok with it I have been drinking it all day and I just can’t wait to go again next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113496631604190154?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113496631604190154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113496631604190154' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113496631604190154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113496631604190154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-extravaganza.html' title='Christmas Extravaganza!'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113419972249335560</id><published>2005-12-09T23:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T23:28:42.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Boy</title><content type='html'>In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" "Fifty cents," replied the waitress.&lt;br /&gt;The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied a number of coins in it. "How much is a dish of plain ice cream?" he inquired. Some people were now waiting for a table and the waitress was a bit impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she said brusquely.&lt;br /&gt;The little boy again counted the coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed.&lt;br /&gt;When the waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed hard at what she saw. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies -- her tip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113419972249335560?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113419972249335560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113419972249335560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113419972249335560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113419972249335560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/12/little-boy.html' title='A Little Boy'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113400537283861190</id><published>2005-12-07T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-07T17:29:32.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>been a wile</title><content type='html'>i no its been a wile since i have posted, it seems that ill post then leave it 4 a wile then pick up on it laiter. its just that i have been so busey that i never have time. iv been having a lot of home work and there is cleaning the house and then there is staying up at night. last night i did the dishes at 2 in the morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113400537283861190?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113400537283861190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113400537283861190' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113400537283861190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113400537283861190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/12/been-wile.html' title='been a wile'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113280131454702818</id><published>2005-11-23T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T19:01:54.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas in November</title><content type='html'>Man its only tow thirds into November and people are already going Christmas NUTS. I was in the Canadian tire today to get some things. I was walking by this lady and she had a list that was life a foot long with allot scribbles and red marks and all wrinkled up. She was with a man her husband I'm guessing and they where looking at toasters asking each other if some ones mother would like it and I was just blown away as I walked by her because she seemed really stressed out. It was like the whole holiday was all materialistic, as if the hole thing was a bought presents. I just sort of stopped and wonder what Christmas really means to me. I mean the past couple years it was all a bought presents much but it was a bought every one being together and laughing and having a good time. But this year I want to really find out a bought the true meaning and just how much more the holiday really means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113280131454702818?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113280131454702818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113280131454702818' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113280131454702818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113280131454702818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/11/christmas-in-november.html' title='Christmas in November'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113220782647856110</id><published>2005-11-16T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T22:10:26.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>There is so much going on in my life right now that it is hard to even tell one day from the next. Things have been really rough, it’s hard to wake up in the morning and put a happy smile on fore the rest of the world. I wish I could crawl in a hole and cry till my troubles are all over. But I would never be so cowardice I have to face my fears and fight them dead on. I don’t think I have ever done so much praying in my life. I no that I need to have allot of faith and give my pain to god and ask fore guidance. I just love to go to youth and church to put my problems on hold fore just that long. No matter how low things get I now that there is always people I can count one no matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113220782647856110?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113220782647856110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113220782647856110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113220782647856110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113220782647856110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/11/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113204348153207341</id><published>2005-11-15T00:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T00:31:21.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday and Halloween</title><content type='html'>Well I’m back, I no I haven’t posted in a long wile but I’ve been really busy with my school and home life. Iv been thinking allot a bought what to right since I’ve been busy, Melanie&lt;br /&gt;(not sure how to spell it sorry) today just gave me that extra nudge to get back on track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It been a bought a month (give or take a day or so) since I have posted and in that time I had my birthday. It was one of the most memorable birthdays I had ever had. Erin had set up a scavenger hunt, involving all her family. Her mom had picked me up at 2ish and I got a letter from Erin telling me that she is lost and I had to go find her. Well with this note was a clue that took me to mission secondary and from there to the movies and all over town. At each location was another clue placed in a balloon and there was me popping balloons in blockbuster and white spot and every location that I had to stop at. At the end of the scavenger hunt I had been led to the other side of the bridge, by the water where she was looking gorgeous and cold waiting with a picnic basket with all my favorite foods. Man she really knows me well. We had spent the remainder of the day walking along the dike and went to her place to warm up and watched horse whisper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following night was Halloween and Erin and I ha walked down to Rogers to rent some movies. We got marksman and bewitched so we walked to the corner store want bought some chips and popcorn and had a fun night watching movies and munching out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113204348153207341?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113204348153207341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113204348153207341' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113204348153207341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113204348153207341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/11/birthday-and-halloween.html' title='Birthday and Halloween'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113028488486903334</id><published>2005-10-25T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-25T17:01:56.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creator hear us</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Creator hear us, for we are your children.&lt;br /&gt;Father we thank you for all that you have given us.&lt;br /&gt;We thank you for the lessons that you have taught us andfor the life that you have allowed us to lead.&lt;br /&gt;We thank you Mother Earth for your beauty and sustenance.&lt;br /&gt;We thank the masters of this universefor their guidance, protection and direction.&lt;br /&gt;Father we thank you for the white light that surrounds us, and forthat same white light which transmutes all negativityinto love and healing.&lt;br /&gt;We thank you father, for the healing of our souls,the healing of the Earth and for the healing of all mankind.&lt;br /&gt;We call upon the power of the universe, toallow us happiness, prosperity, healing and love.&lt;br /&gt;We call upon the power of the universe forgood relationship to all things.&lt;br /&gt;We call upon the power of the universe, for sacred direction,sacred protection, sacred correction and sacred connection.&lt;br /&gt;We call upon the power of the universe for magic and miracles.&lt;br /&gt;We honor you Creator, as we honor all things seen and unseen.&lt;br /&gt;We honor you Creator, as we honor our ancestors, as we honor ourselves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113028488486903334?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113028488486903334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113028488486903334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113028488486903334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113028488486903334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/creator-hear-us.html' title='Creator hear us'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-113013469714746869</id><published>2005-10-23T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T23:18:17.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't get it</title><content type='html'>In the New Testament (new international readers version) why is there a section on fasting?&lt;br /&gt;It says:&lt;br /&gt;When you go with out eating, do not look gloomy like those who&lt;br /&gt;Only pretend to be holy. They make their faces very sad. They want to show people they are fasting. What I’m bought to tell you is true. They&lt;br /&gt;Have received their complete reward.&lt;br /&gt;But when you go with out eating, put olive oil on your head. Wash your face. Then others will not know that you are fasting. Only your Father, who can’t be seen, will know it. He will reward you. Your father sees what is done secretly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-113013469714746869?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/113013469714746869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=113013469714746869' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113013469714746869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/113013469714746869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-dont-get-it.html' title='I don&apos;t get it'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112970508610369586</id><published>2005-10-18T23:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T00:05:19.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/640/logan%20and%20erin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/320/logan%20and%20erin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/1024/logan%20and%20erin.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When with you im invincible, protected by your smell, when I think of not being the one who kisses you, I think of a living hell. For as long as I can remember, ive always been afraid, but once ive held you in my sleep, the dreams go on for days. Ive looked at our reflection baby, I cant believe what I see. A girl so truly beautiful is standing there with me. Ive gazed into your eyes, as you looked into mine, its purity in its finest form, ive lost my grasp of time. I only have a small regret... that whats locked up in my mind. Are the most amazing photographs where I document our lives. Eternity is forever, but id wait forever more, because im no longer just waiting, for that thing worth waiting for. &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112970508610369586?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112970508610369586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112970508610369586' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112970508610369586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112970508610369586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-love-you.html' title='I love you'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112923263198284204</id><published>2005-10-13T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T12:43:51.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who'll Take the Son?</title><content type='html'>A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.&lt;br /&gt;When the Viet Nam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.&lt;br /&gt;About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.&lt;br /&gt;The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."&lt;br /&gt;The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."&lt;br /&gt;The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.&lt;br /&gt;The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel.&lt;br /&gt;"We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?" There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted. "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted. "Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?" Another voice shouted angrily. "We didn't come to see this painting.. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!" But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting."&lt;br /&gt;Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "We have $10, who will bid $20?" "Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters." "$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?" The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"&lt;br /&gt;A man sitting on the second row shouted. "Now let's get on with the collection!"&lt;br /&gt;The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over." "What about the paintings?" "I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets every thing!"&lt;br /&gt;God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The son, the son, who'll take the son?" Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112923263198284204?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112923263198284204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112923263198284204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112923263198284204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112923263198284204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/wholl-take-son.html' title='Who&apos;ll Take the Son?'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112919254122101774</id><published>2005-10-12T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T01:39:16.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jordanna</title><content type='html'>I got the e-mail from Greg no to long ago. Even though I don’t know Jordanna to much it really made me feel sad a bought her condition and how she got sick just a bit after she got home form the hospital fore a visit. I have been praying allot fore her and her family. Knowing a couple of her brothers I want to help them but I feel like its not my place to attempt to talk to beau a bought things because I don’t no him well enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope my prayers count for something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 123px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="201" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/200/hands.jpg" width="183" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="bigcap"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;ord God, Giver of Life, Source of all healing,&lt;br /&gt;who alone can help us grow in wholeness:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We thank you for the gift of life and health,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;we ask you to guide and uphold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;all doctors, surgeons, hospital staffs and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;all engaged in the ministry of healing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;together with those they serve,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that disease and disunity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;may everywhere be overcome;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;through Christ the Divine Healer,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;who suffered and died and lives and reigns&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with you and the Holy Spirit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;our God of Salvation, now and always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112919254122101774?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112919254122101774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112919254122101774' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112919254122101774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112919254122101774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/jordanna.html' title='Jordanna'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112918855370779689</id><published>2005-10-11T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T01:39:45.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>brother</title><content type='html'>Man I think I have had it with my brother, my patients and nerves are really being tested with him. He is just so rude and inconsiderate towards me. I mean the kid is a self-loving narcissist that dosing care a bought others. Every this is a bought him. Every time I try to talk to him or ask him something he will just roll his eyes and ignore me.&lt;br /&gt;I pray to god fore guidance and to help me cope with him&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112918855370779689?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112918855370779689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112918855370779689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112918855370779689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112918855370779689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/brother.html' title='brother'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112900243427025014</id><published>2005-10-10T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T20:48:16.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wast of a day</title><content type='html'>Man today was really weird I feel like I just wasted an entire day lol.&lt;br /&gt;Today I just talked to Erin on the phone fore a couple hours this morning&lt;br /&gt;and then played an internet game fore so long :P&lt;br /&gt;Its been raining and really crappy out and I haven’t felt like doing much. I’m kind of hopping fore school to be back in. I want to have something to do during the day.&lt;br /&gt;cant wait to see you tomoro babe. (K)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112900243427025014?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112900243427025014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112900243427025014' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112900243427025014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112900243427025014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/wast-of-day.html' title='wast of a day'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112884267198085409</id><published>2005-10-09T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T00:24:31.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Father's Eyes</title><content type='html'>This teenager lived alone with his father, and the two of them had a very Special relationship. Even though the son was always on the bench, his Father was always in the stands cheering. He never missed a game. This young Man was still the smallest of the class when he entered high school. But his father continued to encourage him but also made it very clear that he did not have to play football if he didn't want to. But the young man loved Football and decided to hang in there. He was determined to try his best at every practice, and perhaps he'd get to play when he became a senior.&lt;br /&gt;All through high school he never missed a practice nor a game, but remained a bench warmer all four years. His faithful father was always in the stands, Always with words of encouragement for him. When the young man went to College, he decided to try out for the football team as a "walk-on." Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did.&lt;br /&gt;The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always puts his heart and soul into every practice and, at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed. The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent season tickets for all the college games.&lt;br /&gt;This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in the game. It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big play off game, the coach met him with a Telegram.&lt;br /&gt;The young man read the telegram and became deathly silent. Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, "My father died this morning. Is It all right if I miss practice today?" The coach put his arm gently around His shoulder and said, "Take the rest of the week off, son. And don't even plan to come to the game on Saturday."&lt;br /&gt;Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room and put on his football gear. As he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon.&lt;br /&gt;"Coach, please let me play. I've just got to play today," said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his worst player in this close playoff game. But the young man persisted, and finally, feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in.&lt;br /&gt;"All right," he said. "You can go in." Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked and tackled like a star. His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, the kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you've never heard!&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that the young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone.&lt;br /&gt;The coach came to him and said, "Kid, I can't believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?"&lt;br /&gt;He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said. "Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?" The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, "Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112884267198085409?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112884267198085409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112884267198085409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112884267198085409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112884267198085409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-fathers-eyes.html' title='My Father&apos;s Eyes'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112879247443386474</id><published>2005-10-08T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T23:11:37.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Well today is thanksgiving over here. Even though its Saturday my grandma is over just fore today so that means that it’s early this year lol. Since my mom found out that she is coming out she has been in a panic. My mom is always trying to impress every one that it is really taking a toll on her she is really getting stressed out. She was on the floor crying today because there was a spot on the floor I thing I need to really keep her calm today. Erin and my brothers girl friend is here fore thanksgiving today as well, I guess my mom has help in the kitchen lol. No I’m just kidding. But I’m sure this will be a good thanks giving. Not like last year where mom did all the work cooking and my dad made her mad by ignoring her. I’m glad that where having a big sit down meal this year. There is so much to be thankful fore especially every one being able sit together at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just want to wish every one a happy thanks giving this year no matter when it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112879247443386474?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112879247443386474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112879247443386474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112879247443386474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112879247443386474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112831902371448689</id><published>2005-10-02T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T13:27:12.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Riding</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/640/bikes%20and%20store.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/320/bikes%20and%20store.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love going on motorbike rides. Is really sucks how the season is over:( I was suppose to go on a ride to Calgary this summer but plans got messed up I only got to go riding a couple times. This next summer coming up will be awesome I'm going to go so much hopefully. I just love the feeling of the wind on my face and the rumble of the bike beneath me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer was the best summer I ever had riding. I went on 3 good rides "the loop" witch is here to Victoria Island to sunshine bay to whistler to hope and back. Also my camp trip to Penticton and my trip to Vernon and back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love riding because it gives me allot of time to think and just take in all the scenery. Some times the weather can be against you like the one time I was going up the Coquihalla during a hail storm lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ill always love motorbikes's and going riding. &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112831902371448689?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112831902371448689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112831902371448689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112831902371448689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112831902371448689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/10/riding.html' title='Riding'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112777727077685914</id><published>2005-09-26T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T16:27:50.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/640/jerry%20covington%20bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5590/756/320/jerry%20covington%20bike.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112777727077685914?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112777727077685914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112777727077685914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112777727077685914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112777727077685914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112745525832939983</id><published>2005-09-22T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T23:00:58.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At this point in my life</title><content type='html'>Done so many things wrong I don't know if I can do right&lt;br /&gt;Oh I, Oh I've&lt;br /&gt;Done so many things wrong I don't know if I can do right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life&lt;br /&gt;I've done so many things wrong I don't know if I can do right&lt;br /&gt;If you put your trust in me I hope I won't let you down&lt;br /&gt;If you give me a chance I'll try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see it's been a hard road the road I'm traveling on&lt;br /&gt;And if I take your hand I might lead you down the path to ruin&lt;br /&gt;I've had a hard life I'm just saying it so you'll understand&lt;br /&gt;That right now, right now, I'm doing the best I can&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life&lt;br /&gt;Although I've mostly walked in the shadows&lt;br /&gt;I'm still searching for the light&lt;br /&gt;Won't you put your faith in me&lt;br /&gt;We both know that's what matters&lt;br /&gt;If you give me a chance I'll try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see I've been climbing stairs but mostly stumbling down&lt;br /&gt;I've been reaching high always losing ground&lt;br /&gt;You see I've been reaching high but always losing ground&lt;br /&gt;You see I've conquered hills but I still have mountains to climb&lt;br /&gt;And right now right now I'm doing the best I can&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life Before we take a step&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we walk down that path&lt;br /&gt;Before I make any promises&lt;br /&gt;Before you have regrets&lt;br /&gt;Before we talk commitment&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you of my past&lt;br /&gt;All I've seen and all I've done&lt;br /&gt;The things I'd like to forget At this point in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to live as if only love mattered&lt;br /&gt;As if redemption was in sight&lt;br /&gt;As if the search to live honestly&lt;br /&gt;Is all that anyone needs&lt;br /&gt;No matter if you find it&lt;br /&gt;You see when I've touched the sky&lt;br /&gt;The earth's gravity has pulled me down&lt;br /&gt;But now I've reconciled that in this world&lt;br /&gt;Birds and angels get the wings to fly&lt;br /&gt;If you can believe in this heart of mine&lt;br /&gt;If you can give it a try&lt;br /&gt;Then I'll reach inside and find and give you&lt;br /&gt;All the sweetness that I have&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112745525832939983?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112745525832939983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112745525832939983' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112745525832939983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112745525832939983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/at-this-point-in-my-life.html' title='At this point in my life'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112728112742420756</id><published>2005-09-20T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T22:43:55.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horrible</title><content type='html'>God must have grate plans fore many people. It deeply saddens me to hear of all the horrible carnage and despair that is and has been going on in America with hurricane Katrina many lives lost and so many ruined. I feel great sorrow fore all those that have lost their faith in god, disbelieving what a horrible thing that could happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In the past couple years we have had so much suffer in this world that the pain is unbearable with all these natural disasters and wars. But the true faith and compassion in so many have really shined. Just look at all the support and prayer that happens after every day, that it's amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first herd about the hurricane my stomach just dropped I felt so sick I wanted to cry but I needed to hold my self together. I wanted to go and help every person I could. But felt helpless all I could do is pray and hope things will get better. But they will get worse before they do get better. As of this weekend there will be another hurricane to hit Texas, Louisiana called Hurricane Rita. The forecasters say storm could build to Category 4 status in Gulf of Mexico. I just pray to god that things will be ok and every one will be safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112728112742420756?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112728112742420756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112728112742420756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112728112742420756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112728112742420756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/horrible.html' title='Horrible'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112711349075397411</id><published>2005-09-19T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T00:07:34.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change</title><content type='html'>This month I have really been focusing on changing my life fore the better. I mean I have dun so much good towards others and good fore my self. Its hard to stay happy when there is obstacles in the way but things are only as bad as you make it. As long as I have the lord's hand over my soul I no I'm living to the fullest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112711349075397411?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112711349075397411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112711349075397411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112711349075397411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112711349075397411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/change.html' title='Change'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112670990115958619</id><published>2005-09-14T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T19:56:26.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i need to quit</title><content type='html'>Man I never new it is so hard to quit a habit. The past few days I have really been trying to stop swearing and getting upset its not like I do it often but it just slips out I pray that god will help me with this problem at times but I no that I really have to work on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112670990115958619?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112670990115958619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112670990115958619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112670990115958619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112670990115958619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-need-to-quit.html' title='i need to quit'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112646757232442808</id><published>2005-09-11T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T12:39:32.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>church</title><content type='html'>Today was my first day at church in years. It was pretty good I enjoyed my self wile sitting beside Erin lisining to all the stuff that went on during the tiland trip. IV given it some thought and id love to go help sick kids and help around the village, I want to go next time and make a difference.&lt;br /&gt;yesterday all morning I was working, helping my moms friend move I didn’t earn much after I was dun but that’s ok i'm just glad to of helped but I did make 20$ though yesterday. And so today when the kfc bucket came around I put my 20 in there, I’m not to sure what the money goes towards but I’m sure it’s a good cause and I’m glad that I did put it in there I’m sure that I would have just wasted the money any way. It makes me feel really good to help out with my time and what I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112646757232442808?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112646757232442808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112646757232442808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112646757232442808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112646757232442808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/church.html' title='church'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112623914387883584</id><published>2005-09-08T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T19:51:36.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" align="center" bgcolor="#000000" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="8" width="300" bgcolor="#cccccc"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle" width="30"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="1" bgcolor="#000000" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle"&gt;&lt;table height="15" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="15" bgcolor="#0033ff"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle" width="30"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="1" bgcolor="#000000" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle"&gt;&lt;table height="15" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="15" bgcolor="#0066ff"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle" width="30"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="1" bgcolor="#000000" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle"&gt;&lt;table height="15" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="15" bgcolor="#0099ff"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle" width="30"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="1" bgcolor="#000000" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle"&gt;&lt;table height="15" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="15" bgcolor="#00ccff"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="center" align="middle"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;font-size:130%;color:#0066ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;BLUE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;You give your love and friendship unconditionaly. You enjoy long, thoughtful conversations rich in philosophy and spirituality. You are very loyal and intuitive.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: #0066ff; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://www.quizmeme.com/color/quiz.php" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Find out your color at Quiz Me!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112623914387883584?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112623914387883584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112623914387883584' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112623914387883584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112623914387883584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/09/blue.html' title='blue'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112520205309022630</id><published>2005-08-27T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T19:50:30.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my room</title><content type='html'>YEAH! I just got internet in my room. There is a good thing about this and a bad.&lt;br /&gt;the good is that I don't have to go to my friends place to talk to my friends on msn or wright my blogs. But the down side to all the madder is that now there is going to be even more traffic in my room then there already is. U see, I live in a really small house and I have a room to my self and I'm the only one that dose. My 3 brothers have a room to share (sort of) and my mom and sister sort of share a room. So I'm very glad and thankful that I do have a room to my self but I have every ones clothing in my room. Every one has 3 drawers full of cloths and that proposes a problem fore privacy. But now that the computer is in here my vulcher brothers are always fighting to be on my computer even thou we have 2 others. Now that there's a computer in here there is always garbage in my room and things are always taken, broken, and gone through in my room it is vary aggravating but I never say any thing because I'm still lucky compare to them. So as a compromise I figure ill just clean up after them and put up with them trying to go on at like one in the morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112520205309022630?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112520205309022630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112520205309022630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112520205309022630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112520205309022630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-room.html' title='my room'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112433843276803541</id><published>2005-08-17T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T21:13:52.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guardian Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I'v got my Guardian Angel watching over me;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yet I must still step carefully.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've been given the choise to decide;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But if im not careful I just might slide.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The same hold true fore my spiritual walk.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I must take time with Jesus daily; and talk.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause if I'm not careful I could fall down;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then my feet won't be on solid ground.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I will live my life prayerfully;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And take each step through life carefully.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then I'll be sure to keep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Guardian Angel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Watching over me!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112433843276803541?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112433843276803541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112433843276803541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112433843276803541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112433843276803541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/08/guardian-angel.html' title='Guardian Angel'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112262302566610711</id><published>2005-07-29T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T00:43:45.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help please</title><content type='html'>Hey&lt;br /&gt;I not to many people reed my blog but I need some one to help me. I want to no how to put my picture on my profile and how to put them on posts. i have no clue wut im doing lol&lt;br /&gt;thanks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112262302566610711?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112262302566610711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112262302566610711' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112262302566610711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112262302566610711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/help-please.html' title='Help please'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112246388316797790</id><published>2005-07-27T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T06:01:17.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anger</title><content type='html'>Its been a few days since I found out certain things and I am still angry. I am even more angry then before. I'm just so scared to act on the problem that is eating away at me. Iv never had to do such a big thing in my life. I'm so scared that I might so the rong thing and screw things up fore the rest of my life. I'm always trying to think of an alternative answer but I never quite think of something good enough. I'm deeply saddened by what I no I have to do. Some times I wish I could just live a normal happy life with not a care in the world. I no that that isn't possible because I wont be really living. But I wish that every thing would be spaced out by a few years so that I could have a break and live happy for just a wile. Wouldn't it be nice to just be a small kid again where the only problems you have are making sure you have enough change for the icecream man and convincing your parents to let you stay up till 10 to watch TV. Times where everything wus so much better such as birthdays and holidays where more exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the past month or so I have been having the hardest time sleeping. ill get maybe 2 to 5 hours a night if I'm lucky other then that nothing at all. alot of the nights ill be stressed out or just thinking to hard. These past few days its because iv been angry and sad. At times I want to just go out side and just yell until I'm blue in the face to just let out some of these feelings. But then I have to suppress these things at sun up and put on my happy face so I don't show that there is any thing wrong. The reason y I don't want to show that any thing is wrong to others is because I don't want them to worry bought me. Once I do what I no I need to do then some people will be quite depressed, and mad at me as well. But id rather them be mad at me then no the reason y I did it, it just seems better that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112246388316797790?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112246388316797790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112246388316797790' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112246388316797790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112246388316797790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/anger.html' title='Anger'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112217703973320334</id><published>2005-07-23T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T20:50:39.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bad days</title><content type='html'>iv been haveing a really bad cuple of days, well yesterday and today. yesterday my brothers and mom wer bugging and yelling at me for no reason and it agravated me alot. i also had a cuple good friends come over wit alot of problems that i wuz trying to help them with and it really made me feel useless to no that there wuz nothing i could do but lisin. we went to go get slurpys and just chatt things up a bit. when we got home thay had to leave so i called erin and she really took my mind off things. we talked alot abought god and wut he means to me and how things will alwais get better. we talked 4 a few hurs and i went to bed. the smorning i had to get up and go to work, i went to the dam to sell hot dogs for the food center we raised 300$ and got alot of food donated. the thing that bothers me is that i had a motor bike ride planed for today. we wer going to go to vancouver then to the iland and then to wisler then to hope and back. i really wanted to go but mom sed i had to work becuse thay needed me there. when i got home around 3:30 i found out somthing terrable. im soo angry and sad and scared that i dont no wut to do. i no that i should pray for gidence but i have alot of thinking to do first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112217703973320334?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112217703973320334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112217703973320334' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112217703973320334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112217703973320334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/bad-days.html' title='bad days'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112203749751584136</id><published>2005-07-22T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T06:04:59.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back</title><content type='html'>I'm back! I had a lot of fun, we ended up breaking a lot of tools lol we didn't mean to but I guess it happens. During the day I spent laying cement and at night I played cards with my grandma. She spent a lot of the time, wile playing cards telling me all about her life problems mostly financial and the death of my old granpa. When I left I new that I wont really get payed I mean she wants to but I no she wont. I'm totally ok with that because as we left we couldn't pry her away from us she was so thankful that we came up to her place and did all that work for her that she started crying. It made me feel so good and happy with my self that I accomplished something so amazing this summer. I might be going up there again later to do more work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112203749751584136?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112203749751584136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112203749751584136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112203749751584136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112203749751584136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112135065563714309</id><published>2005-07-14T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T07:17:35.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this weekend</title><content type='html'>hey im going away 4 the weekend im leaving tomoro morning. im going to marrit with my brothers i have to help repaive my grandmas driveway. i hear its going to be killer hot friday to monday and monday is going to be like 31C and that is around here lol eney wais ill post when i get back abought my time away bye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112135065563714309?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112135065563714309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112135065563714309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112135065563714309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112135065563714309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/this-weekend.html' title='this weekend'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112132572015909346</id><published>2005-07-13T23:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T04:46:28.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my life and faith</title><content type='html'>this post is long but please bare with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life i have been in and out of faith in god. when i wuz little things wer happening to me and ppl i really cared abought and that is when i really had the most faith. every night i prayed i wouldent get hurt and my famly wouldent ither but it never seemed to help. i no that pepole cant pray just becuse thay want somthing to go there way but i really needed somthing to hold on to and bealeve in. but it never really helped so one day i got thinking that i need to take my life in my own hands and stop praying to somthing that i cant count on. so i became more self relient and icealated from my feelings i just care more abought others then my self. as i wuz growing up i leurned to take care of my family and friends verry well. things wer going really good untill i went into 5th grade my graides wer slipping and my home life became verry shakey i became the pece keeper, my brothers wer alwais fizicly fighting my mom wuz having a nervouis break-down and i wuz getting verry sick. i wuz in and out of the hospatal alot with bleeding alsers constintly puking up blood but as oftin as i could i hid my pain to take care of every one else. so at that point i tryed to regain my faith and to realese some of the burdons i held. but this time i never asked god fore help i only told him how i felt and every thing i wuz doing to keep things in order but some times i just prayed to keep my self ocupyed during the day becuse my mom pulled me out of school god became more of an emaginary friend that i could tell my problems to. during this time during the summer i went to bible camp, camp sqeiah (not sure how to spell it) and i met some graight pepole espetally some of the staff. i told one of the caonsalers some of the stuff i had going on in my life and he really helped me out. as soon as i started getting better and the blood and the pain got less freekwent i inrooled back in school. after i got back in school i met new pepole and my home life died down and i guess i felt like i didnt really need to talk to god eany more so the prayers became less freekwent untill thay finaly stoped. years went bye liveing a happy life, untill i found out my mom got cancer. it scared me so bad i felt that every thing i fought for, every thing i had dun to keep thins family together wuz abought to end. and i no its a bad thing but i started to feel hatered twards god and its when i wuz feeling the most depressed and alone untill i met erin and started dateing her. she helped me soo much when i wuz most vonarable. i didnt let her into my life fully right away i didint want to scare her away from me so i put a smile on my face for the longest time. i would be up all night taking care of my mom cleaning puke and wipeing tears then go to school exsausted. every morning that i came to school tired i seen her smile and it just made my day she made me want to be a better person and try hard in every thing i do. up intill now my mom haz gotting a grait deal better she is in remishion right now she has gon thru raideashon and kemo. she still duz have pain but things are looking a hole lot better. the hole time she wuz sick i held in all my emoshans, pain and thoughs that i got sick and ended up in the hospital. my brother found me in my room shaking so my mom called an ambulance and i went to mission hospatal and thay sent me to abby hospatal where i went thru meany tests and i spent a cuple days there after i wuz let out i found out i had had 14 sezures and thay gave me a spinal tap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i feel a graight deal foolish for feeling so strongly against god and i have prayed for forgiveness and i am trying right now to regain my old friendship with god. i no that this is going to take a wile to do and it is going to take a wile fore me to start going to church and youth but erin is helping me throu this all and i think that wrighting in my blogg will help me. ill ask eany questions i have and just wright down how i feel so that i dont bottle it all in eany more so i dont get so sick. maby ill be able to show true emoshan again i havint been able to break down and cry since i can remember. i think i just need to do that some day when im ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that this post is soo long but i just needed pepole to understand me and how hard life is some times im going to really try to accept him in to my hart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112132572015909346?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112132572015909346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112132572015909346' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112132572015909346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112132572015909346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-life-and-faith.html' title='my life and faith'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-112109209622945357</id><published>2005-07-10T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-11T07:28:16.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>im going to start</title><content type='html'>Hey its been a really long time since iv been on blogger. I only made this account because people I new told me abought it so I thought it would be fun. I haven't really been posting much because I didn't no wut to say and I didn't want people to judge me on wut ever I wrote down. But I have been reading some of my friends posts and I figure it couldn't hurt much to really start wrighting things I have on my mind. I guess it duzint bother me much now the thought of people reading wut I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eany ways i got to go im getting tired, ill wright stuff down laiter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-112109209622945357?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/112109209622945357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=112109209622945357' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112109209622945357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/112109209622945357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-going-to-start.html' title='im going to start'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023997.post-110516118626017726</id><published>2005-01-07T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T21:17:52.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jenny</title><content type='html'>Jenny was so happy about the house they had found. For once in her life it was on the right side of town. She unpacked her things with such great ease. As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze. How wonderful it was to have her own room. School would be starting; she'd have friends over soon. There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy It's just the way she wanted her life to be. On the first day of school, everything went great. She made new friends and even got a date! She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be, Because I just got a date with the star of the team!" To be known in this school you had to have clout, And dating this guy would sure help her out. There was only one problem stopping her fate. Her parents had said she was too young to date. "Well I just won't tell them the entire truth. They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?" Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night. Her parents frowned but said, "All right." Excited, she got ready for the big event But as she rushed around like she had no sense, She began to feel guilty about all the lies, But what's a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride? Well the pizza was good, and the party was great, But the moonlight ride would have to wait. For Dan was half drunk by this time. But he kissed her and said that he was just fine. Then the room filled with smoked and Dan took a puff. Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff. Now Dan was ready to ride to the point But only after he'd smoked another joint. They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride, Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive. They finally made it to the point at last, And Dan started trying to make a pass. A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all (and by a pass, I don't mean playing football.) "Perhaps my parents were right....maybe I am too young. Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb." With all of her might, she pushed Dan away: "Please take me home, I don't want to stay." Dan cranked up the engine and floored the gas. In a matter of seconds they were going too fast. As Dan drove on in a fit of wild anger, Jenny knew that her life was in danger. She begged and pleaded for him to slow down, But he just got faster as they neared the town. "Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied. I really went out for a moonlight ride." Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash. "Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!" She doesn't remember the force of impact. Just that everything all of a sudden went black. She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble, And heard, "call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble! Voices she heard...a few words at best. But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck. Then wondered to herself if Dan was all right, And if the people in the other car was alive. She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad. "You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad." These voices echoed inside her head, As they gently told her that Dan was dead. They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do. But it looks as if we'll lose you too." "But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried. "We're sorry, Jenny, they also died." Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done I only wanted to have just one night of fun." "Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim, And wish I could return their families to them." "Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied, And that it's my fault so many have died. Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?" The nurse just stood there-she never agreed. But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes. And a few moments later Jenny died. A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do your best To bid that girl her one last request?" She looked at the man with eyes so sad. "Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad." This story is sad and unpleasant but true, So young people take heed, it could have been you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10023997-110516118626017726?l=loganjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/feeds/110516118626017726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10023997&amp;postID=110516118626017726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/110516118626017726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10023997/posts/default/110516118626017726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loganjones.blogspot.com/2005/01/jenny.html' title='Jenny'/><author><name>logan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03755641420176510119</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_PhncuPATvvk/SIQB_wYrJAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCzRQvyEJ4I/S220/P4140119.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
