<?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-6067898</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:39:22.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where it's at</title><subtitle type='html'>Agree to disagree.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>196</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-3583664978299281428</id><published>2007-12-11T23:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T00:08:16.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let's be honest, this blog hasn't been where it's at at all.I'm going to try to get my life together again.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/3583664978299281428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/3583664978299281428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#3583664978299281428' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-8078086226456603189</id><published>2007-04-24T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T09:10:49.515-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Is there where I'd come to lodge a complaint about the concert Friday night?""Yeah, you could do that here.""So then this would be the same place to pay a compliment, huh?"Hell yes, positive feedback, what a night.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/8078086226456603189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/8078086226456603189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#8078086226456603189' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-2541604220928812056</id><published>2007-04-15T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T17:33:18.997-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't know who let go first.  I want to believe that it wasn't me, I never wanted to be the guy to bail when things change.  At any rate, this spreading of Pangea will make the events of the next months easier to bear.She unlocked the car door yesterday as I was walking back to the driver's side.I hope I never enthusiastically describe events to which you were not invited.  I'm sorry if I have,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/2541604220928812056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/2541604220928812056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#2541604220928812056' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-7874391172874862044</id><published>2007-03-20T22:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T22:49:09.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Honestly, if one more thing in my life falls into place, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself.  Hobbies are taking off, careers are standing still, life is a whirlwind.  I don't even know why I felt compelled to write, there's no way I could explain it all.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/7874391172874862044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/7874391172874862044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#7874391172874862044' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-1051358413591098695</id><published>2007-03-09T20:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T20:10:04.322-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In a week of rejection emails, I'm ok with this one. Hello Paul,Thank you very much for your interest in our summer Industrial Design internship position.We have reviewed your resume and online portfolio. You have a great eye for graphic design and photography. It appears that you have promising future as a successful Mechanical Engineer and Graphic Artist. However, for this particular internship</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1051358413591098695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1051358413591098695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#1051358413591098695' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-7853534813343810263</id><published>2007-03-08T09:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T09:45:23.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And now it's time to get what I paid for, to assume the lifestyle I've worked so little to obtain.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/7853534813343810263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/7853534813343810263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#7853534813343810263' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-6024788391575126458</id><published>2007-02-16T17:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T17:34:52.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's that time of year.  Ride them on in, you beautiful bastards</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6024788391575126458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6024788391575126458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#6024788391575126458' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-6628785722521938852</id><published>2007-02-13T23:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:31:01.515-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>We had driven all night, arriving in Corpus at 5, as the dawn was starting to break.  I will never forget the breakfast burritos from the last gas station before the drive south to Port Mansfield.  60 miles of loose sand eventually widened between the group and the burrito wrappers.We thought it odd that he was so brief on such a huge day for us.  Surely he was going to break out the real secrets</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6628785722521938852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6628785722521938852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#6628785722521938852' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d1wV8DgS9Jg/RdKlaYWCvrI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NtGQSHSM7rY/s72-c/DSCF5414.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-1555005532719116190</id><published>2007-01-31T22:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T22:13:28.659-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Complaining is the easiest thing in the world.  Every complaint lands on someone, another person takes that responsibility and places it in their pocket.  Or on their back.It isn't so much the complaining that gets to me.  It's that when it shows up it highlights the absence of thanks.  I'm not even sure what I'm getting at here.  I realise that I'm sensitive to this kind of thing, and I know </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1555005532719116190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1555005532719116190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#1555005532719116190' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-1025109975776226449</id><published>2007-01-29T14:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T14:27:33.378-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jeff Tweedy 2007-01-26 House of Blues New Orleans, LA  1. Spiders (Kidsmoke) 2. Remember The Mountain Bed 3. I Am Trying To Break Your Heart 4. Airline To Heaven 5. The Ruling Class 6. New Madrid 7. Radio King 8. Someone Else's Song (without PA) 9. Theologians 10. California Stars 11. Hesitating Beauty 12. Heavy Metal Drummer 13. The Late Greats 14. ELT 15. Jesus, Etc.  Encore 1: 16. A Shot In </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1025109975776226449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1025109975776226449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#1025109975776226449' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-760442001300112178</id><published>2007-01-28T20:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T20:42:15.214-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In a cold house in an new old jacket listening to new old music from new old friends.  She believes I'm not crazy, she says that it happens the way I've always hoped, she says it's rare for a reason.  I want to believe her.It's going to be good for a while, then, who knows.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/760442001300112178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/760442001300112178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#760442001300112178' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-9028606025868088326</id><published>2007-01-24T22:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T22:06:19.062-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dressing well on test days is one of the best-kept secrets in college.If the whole product designer thing falls through, I'd like to be a shoe-shiner.Tom Waits and I are sitting on the love seat waiting for something to happen.  The tables have turned and I have no idea how to play this hand.  Feet are cold.The best text messages are the phrases that require inflection for definition.  Recently </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/9028606025868088326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/9028606025868088326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#9028606025868088326' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-5641518768378360720</id><published>2007-01-21T23:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T00:09:11.149-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>All a fellah knows is to be a stone.I've spent the last little while listening the few surviving Shortbread recordings.  The quality is terrible.  The recordings are rough.  The playing is rough.  The timing is rough.  There are a few things I like about them, though.As the song ends, the applause of the twenty people is broken by two of our friends yelling like idiots, supporting us when we </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/5641518768378360720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/5641518768378360720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#5641518768378360720' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-4969393585667622143</id><published>2007-01-18T21:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T21:50:06.735-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't know why I feel so strung out all of a sudden.  The fever is slowly fading, the mood is still mixing, though.  Let's call it frustration.  I'm frustrated about things I can't say, things I didn't initiate, and things I can't control.Good looking people never took the time to cultivate skills or viewpoints.  Life is an action.  Just like love and friendship.  Nobody cares about promises or</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/4969393585667622143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/4969393585667622143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#4969393585667622143' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-6112418602855906270</id><published>2007-01-15T02:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T02:21:14.625-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My self-image weighs about 45 pounds less than I do.  That's insane, I need to learn how to draw meaty me.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6112418602855906270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6112418602855906270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#6112418602855906270' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-5838275967084481789</id><published>2007-01-13T17:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T17:47:43.784-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Every introduction is another underline to emphasive that so many of the things I held on to are changing, leaving, or already gone.  It's a crazy time, but it's a good time to be observant and continue to learn who I want to be and who I want to be around.  I find myself wishing I could do the last few years over again as I get to know the people I missed out on.  Also, as I get to know the ones</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/5838275967084481789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/5838275967084481789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#5838275967084481789' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-628906479432236072</id><published>2007-01-11T09:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T09:18:04.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Instead of studying, why not look up the drop date? My name is Paul, and I'm immune to urgency. But also, trying to be a better person.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/628906479432236072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/628906479432236072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#628906479432236072' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-6747569534997065171</id><published>2007-01-05T00:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T00:48:36.853-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't know why I love that quote so much, except that the best social studies project ever would be titled "The Necessity of Religion."  I only wish I had spent as much time on that topic as I did discussing how Bush, Blair, Jong Il, and Hussein exhibited Machiavellian traits in their leadership styles.  There were over fifty citations on that paper, it was incredible, mostly because Scates is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6747569534997065171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6747569534997065171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#6747569534997065171' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-3830304111100013356</id><published>2007-01-03T18:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T18:58:09.888-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"If I were able to take the time, I believe that I could prove the continuation of life beyond the grave, reasoning from the necessity, philosophically speaking, of a belief in an absolute and universal power."                            - Daniel Burnham</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/3830304111100013356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/3830304111100013356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html#3830304111100013356' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-1339683721081517490</id><published>2006-12-27T12:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:31:02.311-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I once read that there is no such thing as lucky people, just people that keep their eyes open. Whether or not this statement is true is not the point today. The point is that I believed it, and it started changing my life in very real and tangible ways. Perhaps the most recent example, and definitely the most exciting, is an encounter occurring the other afternoon on my way to see a friend.One </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1339683721081517490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/1339683721081517490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#1339683721081517490' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d1wV8DgS9Jg/RZK-I4ywfTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/-WIirLOHQCY/s72-c/DSCF8823s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-6200807676180152494</id><published>2006-12-22T16:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T16:40:53.308-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Things:    The demise of an iPod   The death of a laptop battery   The discovery of local skate punks  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6200807676180152494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6200807676180152494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#6200807676180152494' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-9155908289490133106</id><published>2006-12-17T21:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T22:26:49.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm really stoked, and it somehow seemed appropriate to mark this day for posterity. It's amazing how a single decision can turn so much around. It was incredible to watch.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/9155908289490133106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/9155908289490133106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#9155908289490133106' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-2528015637571466047</id><published>2006-12-15T00:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T00:38:34.901-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And there it went.  And I'm kind of glad it's gone.  Honestly, I'd rather know that I didn't have it and couldn't lose it than go through this horrible dance of "do I/don't I" every time grades are posted.  This is a picture of me taking responsibility for my actions.I have one of the strongest groups of friends I have ever seen.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/2528015637571466047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/2528015637571466047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#2528015637571466047' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-354671722449257723</id><published>2006-12-07T22:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T22:19:11.174-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Guys it is so effing cold in this house but I'm watching a special on the Blue Man Group on LPB and don't want to go to my room.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/354671722449257723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/354671722449257723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#354671722449257723' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-6069229077359862987</id><published>2006-12-05T00:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T00:07:24.077-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't feel empty.  I can listen to Elliott Smith without being drug into his shoes.  I'm on the ball.  I'm getting used to it.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6069229077359862987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/6069229077359862987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#6069229077359862987' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-4263928517861117158</id><published>2006-12-03T20:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T20:21:59.101-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As we sat, we passively issued in a new era.  It will be one of warmth and productivity.  It will be one of great possibilities and introductions.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/4263928517861117158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/4263928517861117158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#4263928517861117158' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-7898969001493594164</id><published>2006-11-30T22:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T20:18:02.090-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sometimes I want to yell but instead I play the drums.Drawing class is the new highlight of my life. Today, we talked about all these things that we were going to be doing throughout the quarter. Never once did the professor season his speech with even the faintest doubt that any of us would have any troubles completing the assignments. He gave me a glimpse of what I will one day be able to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/7898969001493594164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/7898969001493594164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#7898969001493594164' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116486845215793642</id><published>2006-11-29T23:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T01:07:22.756-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tonight, though there were hours between us, some cosmic force of boredom brought us together.In earlier times, this force drove us to dangerous feats and wild adventure, but tonight we did what seems to happen more often these days. We sorted some things out and remembered the times that have passed.  One summer in the late 90's, he had the most beautifully perfect idea of this particular </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116486845215793642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116486845215793642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116486845215793642' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116440384683512014</id><published>2006-11-24T15:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T15:30:46.863-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If I could do it all again, I would have never taken the first engineering class.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116440384683512014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116440384683512014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116440384683512014' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116417593860072020</id><published>2006-11-21T23:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T11:09:41.346-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Posting this is difficult, and I will tell you why. My laptop keyboard is decidedly "on the fritz." The following is a sentence if I were to type it literally:I dob't thibk that waitibg ubtil nidbight to xall ne vaxk is the vest idea,It's wretched, but Dell is going to replace it soon so hooray and yippee.The library down the street has a large collection of DVD's available for borrowing. Last </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116417593860072020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116417593860072020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116417593860072020' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116377645703090742</id><published>2006-11-17T09:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T09:14:17.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This house is irreversibly cold.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116377645703090742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116377645703090742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116377645703090742' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116357351279067660</id><published>2006-11-15T00:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:51:52.806-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I need a ride on the Orange Wave.This quarter is rounding out the same way they always do, with a feeling of helplessness at the current grade situation combined with an overall apathy about the way things will turn out.   I'm finding that, as long as it's only me taking the fall, I don't care if I fail.  I would much rather eat breakfast for dinner with friends than worry about having to get </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116357351279067660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116357351279067660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116357351279067660' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116348723756817089</id><published>2006-11-14T00:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T00:53:57.583-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am immune to urgency.The other day I found myself wishing there were more colors.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116348723756817089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116348723756817089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116348723756817089' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116304216277446547</id><published>2006-11-08T21:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T21:16:02.790-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>When you switch to the new version you cannot go back!Pressure, anyone?  I have plenty of things that will never go back to how they were, I'm not going to make this decision hastily.  Forever is a while.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116304216277446547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116304216277446547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116304216277446547' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116278797769918467</id><published>2006-11-05T22:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T22:39:37.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I forgot how to make friends.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116278797769918467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116278797769918467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116278797769918467' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116253821866070099</id><published>2006-11-03T01:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T01:16:58.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm going to make my own personality test.  Not now, but sometime, I'll make it.Introvert? Extrovert? There's two kinds, there's an easy division, and these tests are a series of those divisions, a way to categorize a population longing to understand and be labeled. Let me tell you about my two kinds.There are people in this world that get asked the same ridiculous questions by different </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116253821866070099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116253821866070099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116253821866070099' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116193485533138852</id><published>2006-10-27T02:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T02:40:55.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This era of good feeling need be accompanied by new accomplishments and experiences.  I wrote a letter tonight.  I am legendarily restless.[X] Do a chin-up</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116193485533138852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116193485533138852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116193485533138852' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116183335091661758</id><published>2006-10-25T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T22:29:10.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't think I'm doing it wrong.  It will work when it's right, and I have to trust that.Things became definate and clear as the rain started to fall last night.  The literary symbol of rebirth came exactly on cue, and carried me home on the bike, tears of relief blending with the falling rain.  I've been smiling like an idiot for almost 24 hours now.  I don't care about how things could be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116183335091661758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116183335091661758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116183335091661758' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-116157306103749443</id><published>2006-10-22T22:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T22:11:01.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm still here.  And I'm still me.  Things are going well in every area but one, and that's the one I keep spinning in my head.  The fear isn't in the asking, or in the response, it's knowing how something is going to be, it's the knowing that I'm so afraid of.I lost my wallet in Birmingham, Alabama.  I consider it a two hundred dollar gift to the international homeless population, I think me and</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116157306103749443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/116157306103749443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116157306103749443' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115864250987348892</id><published>2006-09-18T22:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T00:08:34.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Portrait of a Champion Idealist.I don't think I buy personality tests.  All this tells me is how I percieve myself, which I am fully aware of.This weekend was something else.  I want to be friendly.  Hey, photos.Sweet Leaf Tea.  Guster. Stars.  Fall.  Okkervill River.  Research. TV on the Radio.   TV ON THE RADIO. Rasta-er than hell. The Goof Pornographers.   Fanny Packer.  Standout.  The Lips.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115864250987348892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115864250987348892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html#115864250987348892' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115761300842802381</id><published>2006-09-07T02:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T02:11:35.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was going to post as if I were our neighbors but I would like to interrupt that whole thing for a breaking news story.As I was watching season two of The Office, bleaching my teeth, my French doors wide open, feet kicked comfortably onto desk, a cockroach the size of a small dog was spotted not three inches from my size thirteens. I calmly got up and tried to locate some way to poison him. Or </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115761300842802381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115761300842802381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html#115761300842802381' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115734535850959722</id><published>2006-09-03T23:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T23:49:18.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yesterday was the end of my summer internship. We just re-opened after a two-week shutdown/overhaul of the existing center. There were two crews that worked the whole time - a crew of 10 or so Mexican painters, and a crew of 8 flooring guys. Did you know that Shreveport had a Mexican radio station? Neither did I, nor did I know that the accordion is a staple in Hispanic music. On the other side </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115734535850959722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115734535850959722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html#115734535850959722' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115717491033115712</id><published>2006-09-02T00:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T00:28:30.350-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been at work for 30 of the last 40 hours.  I hope my never-ending hallway doesn't catch on fire tonight.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115717491033115712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115717491033115712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html#115717491033115712' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115691774003303410</id><published>2006-08-30T01:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T01:02:20.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sharing is caring.I don't know if I've ever felt so full of life as I have this summer.  I want to share that with you.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115691774003303410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115691774003303410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115691774003303410' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115657499716436357</id><published>2006-08-26T01:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T01:49:57.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm jacked up on Mountain Dew.I am not engaged, although the climate seems to be accommodating for such a proposal. It doesn't really matter if we all agree with what you do, it just matters that you're totally convinced that it's the right thing to do, and we'll be happy for you. My new motto is going to be a derivative of "Own that shit," something a little more family friendly, but still </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115657499716436357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115657499716436357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115657499716436357' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115595579725329452</id><published>2006-08-18T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T21:49:57.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Days can be so strange.  I suppose it makes sense for even the best summers to be peppered with lonely days.  When I get the funk, I've tried to create or arrange.  Good things out of rough times, helps to tilt the scale on a awkward three months.Our regional conference overlaps the Revel.  It doesn't look like I'll be playing percussion after all.  There were no words for how I felt at that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115595579725329452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115595579725329452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115595579725329452' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115552849541491018</id><published>2006-08-13T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T23:11:14.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I could write forever.We're learning what makes us different. We're identifying the things that we like, and we're finding the ways our upbringing has turned us into the people we have become. This summer has been fulfilling in fifteen ways I never expected it to be.This afternoon, under blue skies, six friends sat and made music in the summer breeze.Tomorrow, I play my handmade cajon in a pink </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115552849541491018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115552849541491018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115552849541491018' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115512813363975954</id><published>2006-08-09T07:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T23:11:27.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"I don't think anyone's been friends long enough to see Paul in wet boxers."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115512813363975954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115512813363975954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115512813363975954' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115432232271364925</id><published>2006-07-31T00:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T22:23:58.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's good to design once in a while.It's good that things get done when I am not involved.  The train goes on, you have to remember that.  You have to trust it.So far:       Record player shelf thing       Speaker cabs   Cajon   To go:       Bed   TV stand   More cajones  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115432232271364925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115432232271364925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115432232271364925' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115370956546050953</id><published>2006-07-23T21:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T21:52:45.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tonight, I put the last coat of poly on the record shelf. Things become so loathsome without the right tools, I'm just glad it's over, even though it's rather shoddy. We aim so effing high. The entertainment center and bed will be much more practical.Thursday morning I had to go to the Doctor so he could check out my stitches.Wednesday afternoon I had to get some stitches.Wednesday morning, a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115370956546050953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115370956546050953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115370956546050953' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115316346611141240</id><published>2006-07-17T14:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T14:11:06.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I told them about my symptoms, they gave me a diagnosis.Adam: “Maybe you're in love.”The Doc: “You have I.B.S.”I’m not sure which I prefer.     The house is looking much better, much more complete.  We have resolved to have more game nights and house parties, keep the house cleaner, and make better grades.  I re-caulked the tub.  You have to do all of that loose-end stuff right when you move in, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115316346611141240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115316346611141240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115316346611141240' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115310484941206224</id><published>2006-07-16T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T21:54:09.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I once was told that you are never unemployed.  You're just freelancing for a while.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115310484941206224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115310484941206224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115310484941206224' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115250528651001532</id><published>2006-07-09T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T23:21:26.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How am I supposed to be serious in church when the word "ineffable" appears in a song.Today in Shreveport, about 300 people said "ineffable" in unison.  One person laughed.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115250528651001532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115250528651001532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115250528651001532' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115241598598643411</id><published>2006-07-08T22:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T22:33:06.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I need to type this out.I've been brought up to dig Creationism and not listen to anything Evolutionism had to say. Most people in the South ride the fence on the issue, intimidated by SCIENCE but a bit timid to disbelieve the pulpit preaching.Let's assume that Adam was created as an adult. Would we say that he's middle-aged, or a day old? Why can't the universe have been created in the middle of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115241598598643411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115241598598643411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115241598598643411' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115215745311839953</id><published>2006-07-05T22:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T22:44:13.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I love my job.  What I've learned:- That I DO NOT want to be a graphic designer- other stuffLately, when I am driving, when I have the windows down, when the air conditioner does not work, I have started throwning my gum out of the passenger side window.  I don't know how it started, but it has now become subconscious.  I'll start to miss the winterfresh chew just as I realize that it left me at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115215745311839953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115215745311839953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115215745311839953' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115138380954780394</id><published>2006-06-26T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T23:57:16.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My grandmother is old. She's hilarious, she ran her own business until she was eighty. Now she's pushing ninety, and she's still pushing. Her new hearing aid works, it's number five or six, but this one has the keys to the kingdom. Which is good, because I mumble.We were sitting on the backporch after watering her massive backyard of gardens and pots and gardens and pots, and she's talking about </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115138380954780394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115138380954780394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115138380954780394' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115128939143965254</id><published>2006-06-25T21:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T15:32:40.150-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There are alot of fish in this sea.There's been too much relationship nonsense going on lately. The whole prioritizing thing from two years ago came back with a bullet. Who knows, I get too involved with this stuff, I expect too much from people.It's tough not to see yourself as defective when the same things keep happening.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115128939143965254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115128939143965254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115128939143965254' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115116580867315461</id><published>2006-06-24T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T11:16:48.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's tough when you find yourself up to your old tricks.I want to be an Industrial Designer.Beck has the best live show of anyone I've ever seen or heard about.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115116580867315461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115116580867315461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115116580867315461' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-115008612451255138</id><published>2006-06-11T23:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T23:22:04.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am laying on a black leather sofa watching Everybody Loves Raymond.  There is no furniture in Bessie, there is no electricity in Bessie 2.0, there is a futon in the UB office.I would rather not miss you, even though it's better when we get back together and blah blah blah appreciate what you have blah blah blah I really just wish we were all in Ruston again.Next year is going to be this same </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115008612451255138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/115008612451255138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115008612451255138' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114982539030771030</id><published>2006-06-08T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T23:12:49.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The enjoyment of a project is directly proportional to the availability of the necessary tools and materials.Letters are investments. Investing is for old people. Letters are for old people.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114982539030771030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114982539030771030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#114982539030771030' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114947783689800779</id><published>2006-06-04T22:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T22:24:04.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You don't know what you got 'til you have to move it.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114947783689800779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114947783689800779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#114947783689800779' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114929131282591047</id><published>2006-06-02T18:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T18:35:12.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This post, while fertile for sarcasm, does not contain any.The SPD kicked ass last night. I was driving on Piermont, I think, headed to dumpster alley looking for moving boxes when I see the fuzz on my tail. I got the inspection sticker fixed Saturday, I was buckled, not speeding, everything's great. He hits his lights and I pull into some steakhouse parking lot. It is 8:30 on Thursday night. He </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114929131282591047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114929131282591047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#114929131282591047' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114904913057700428</id><published>2006-05-30T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T23:18:50.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Good gracious I cannot sleep.The Ticklers are holding it down in 7th place tonight, I'm rather proud of them.  Go Ticklers.The job is exhausting and wonderful.After you realize that the do-nut shop has more than just glazed, it's like a whole new category of pastry enjoyment. It never clicked that specialty do-nuts are available for purchase. They are, in fact, and they are unreal.Got some Beck </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114904913057700428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114904913057700428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114904913057700428' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114852726881576580</id><published>2006-05-24T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T22:23:28.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why is Paul watching baseball?My fantasy team, The Gootch Ticklers, isn't doing all that well. There are plenty of possible reasons for this, my disdain for the sport being one of them.The reek of that crap they soak telephone poles in has been following me around all night. We're trying to make balance boards and I had to cut down a pole tonight to further the cause. I doubt it works, but </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114852726881576580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114852726881576580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114852726881576580' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114835532493150427</id><published>2006-05-22T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T22:29:43.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The quarter ended with a 3.3.   I'm ok with that.Today was the job hunt. Looks like the science center has something brewing in the form of an exhibit developer for some earth-shattering planetarium. I neglected to tell them that I keep the Audubon Society Field Guide to the Night Sky in my car at all times. I regret that.My social circle is in constant flux.  If the elements are decent, the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114835532493150427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114835532493150427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114835532493150427' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114801286304941914</id><published>2006-05-18T23:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T23:27:43.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I feel compelled to write, but things are so conflicted and muddled right now that I don't know what to put down.So I guess I'll leave it blank.  I just don't want this year to be over, I do not want a summer.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114801286304941914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114801286304941914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114801286304941914' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114757911905984422</id><published>2006-05-13T22:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T01:26:31.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's the freakin weekend.The last week of school, the last week before some really tough goodbyes.Today, I had the opportunity to take part in one of the best Ruston days that anyone involved had ever seen. Fun does not appear by accident. It's always there, yeah, but you need the right mix of people and spunk to dust it off and really bring it out. Today, we mixed well.  Also, this weekend </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114757911905984422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114757911905984422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114757911905984422' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114709589281938344</id><published>2006-05-08T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T08:44:52.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>No word on summer employment.  The suspense is not killing me.When you are elected president of the Union Board, your first act in office is to choose your eight committee heads. I'm going to piss some people off. I've never really enjoyed doing that. My executive board is top-notch, so I've got that going for me.I can't begin to understand how much I'm going to grow this year.There are two types</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114709589281938344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114709589281938344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114709589281938344' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114671465509068793</id><published>2006-05-03T22:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T22:54:12.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There will be an answer, let it be.Tomorrow I learn about the next twelve months. Capro Inc. is going to call and tell me if I got the summer Mechanical Engineering internship. I wish I knew how that interview went. Apparently, interviews don't have much to do with what you say. Like life, I suppose. Also, UB elections throw down tomorrow. I don't think I'm going to say much, maybe I can get by </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114671465509068793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114671465509068793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114671465509068793' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114642385386387990</id><published>2006-04-30T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T14:04:13.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If growing up has anything to do with these bad news phonecalls about car crash and disaster, then I don't want to grow up.  My little sib is gone.  I'm gonna miss the hell out of that boy.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114642385386387990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114642385386387990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114642385386387990' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114616296864360834</id><published>2006-04-27T13:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T16:05:15.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Breaking the drought.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114616296864360834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114616296864360834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114616296864360834' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114583121934432804</id><published>2006-04-23T17:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T17:26:59.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Thoughts from the porch sofa:I've been here the past two hours. Reading is more active than laying here listening to Built to Spill. It feels so much more productive.The past 70 hours have been college. My friends and I produced one of the greatest shows ever on Tech's campus, foursqare was re-done, the porch was broken-down upon, a trampoline was harvested, things did not go without saying, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114583121934432804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114583121934432804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114583121934432804' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114556193791184350</id><published>2006-04-20T14:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T14:38:57.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> We'll email you when your tickets are printed and about to be shipped.  You purchased 3 tickets to:BeckNokia Theatre At Grand Prairie, Grand Prairie, TXWednesday June 21, 2006 8:00 pmSeat location: section PIT        Total Charge: $152.73I'm going to re-post emails every day, I guess.  Tonight is Stumps the Clown, tomorrow is Ben Folds, Saturday is Porterdavis.  How could any weekend ever get </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114556193791184350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114556193791184350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114556193791184350' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114549733782933195</id><published>2006-04-19T20:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T22:37:48.243-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dear Paul, Thank you for your interest in our firm. I received your letter this morning and am sorry to tell you that the summer mechanical intern position with our firm for this summer has recently been filled. I appreciate your inquiry and wish you the best in pursuit of a summer job and career in Mechanical Engineering. This is why you don't put things off.  This was my ace in the hole.  This </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114549733782933195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114549733782933195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114549733782933195' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114542391887191187</id><published>2006-04-18T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T22:36:48.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Living with people successfully is all about slack. When you start pointing out what other people aren't doing, they start digging things up to point out that you aren't doing and walking around the house all we're doing is cataloging the other housemates' shortcomings. That's just no way to live.I wonder sometimes if Union Board could possibly take up any more of my time. Then I think I'm going </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114542391887191187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114542391887191187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114542391887191187' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114529228040409114</id><published>2006-04-17T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T11:44:40.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just applied to my dream job.  IKEA, if you're listening, please hire me.It's been a great weekend, I don't know where to start, so I guess that I won't. Except that I miss being in a band. The Big Positive was everything I hoped they would be, I'm stoked for them. Some of us need to be famous, those guys need to be famous.It's scary that the past 21 years have been tragedy-free. I don't like </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114529228040409114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114529228040409114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114529228040409114' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114482357200876681</id><published>2006-04-12T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T07:30:43.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A personal statement:I am currently listening to Panic! At the Disco as a mosquito flies around my sunburned arms.  Color me annoyed.  Also, there is a wicked taste in the back of my throat that I can't seem to shake. I wish that producing successful events had lost its buzz, but tonight was another smooth night and another great feeling. I need a few signs. Get me to the house, it's better to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114482357200876681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114482357200876681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114482357200876681' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114464677189353749</id><published>2006-04-10T00:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T17:14:57.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I wish Tech web hosting would get itself together.Before you go to sleep, you need to make a pile of sticks and twigs next to the fire pit.I have this strange surrounding feeling that everything is going to be alright. I don't know when it started, and I'm not sure why, but I absolutely love it. There's a twenty foot Ben Folds erection in the plaza that overpowers math grades.Some days I want to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114464677189353749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114464677189353749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114464677189353749' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114438876029957196</id><published>2006-04-07T00:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T07:44:27.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Spread it around, but don't spread it too thin.It's good to walk and talk about what's changed the last year. Progress is more apparent with a little time. I hope that I never do the sort of things that the ones I care about speak of in low tones on barstools. You don't want to waste your life, now, darlin.Riding bikes with ties and backpacks is as close to godly as this little elder will ever </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114438876029957196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114438876029957196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114438876029957196' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114428717668574749</id><published>2006-04-05T20:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T20:32:56.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tonight is crunch time. It's a math test on the way, and boy howdy do I need to make an A in that class to keep my scholarshipping going on. It's easy to take things for granted when you didn't really do anything to earn them, this is such a situation.I listened to the Ben Folds Power 2Hours tonight and had a smoothie. I feel ready to produce a show and man oh man is it going to be a good </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114428717668574749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114428717668574749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114428717668574749' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114421628009787823</id><published>2006-04-05T00:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T23:54:01.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's a tough system that we've set up here. While I know that single is where I need to be right now, I expect effort from people when there is no contract requiring it. I know some quality cats, and I love to be with them, but there's more to life than being appreciated. It's going to be so nice to have a teammate.The show tonight went really well. I've stopped seeing events as how many people </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114421628009787823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114421628009787823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114421628009787823' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114410112351667746</id><published>2006-04-03T16:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T18:24:22.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How sweet it is to be loved by James Taylor. I love that Gorilla sends me to the snaking mountain roads of south Mexico in our overloaded Chevy Venture. That was a serious 50 hours, went through most of the Rolling Stones discography, a ton of James Taylor, and Cash's Ring of Fire about twenty times.It's good to space things out. It's good to need. I'd rather invite you over than tell you to go </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114410112351667746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114410112351667746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114410112351667746' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114401298841408551</id><published>2006-04-02T16:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T00:09:34.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Don't burn incense in the flow of a fan, it will make a mess.It's finally beautiful outside.  I do believe that I'm going to go read on the porch.Porterdavis is playing Dallas tonight, and there are rumors that they're coming through later this month. This photo is from when we walked a few million blocks in Chattanooga only to be turned away because we weren't 21. Sad day, and long walk.How </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114401298841408551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114401298841408551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114401298841408551' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114392851157900808</id><published>2006-04-01T14:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T23:51:56.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This morning I found myself projecting my hopes onto another unsuspecting character in my life's story. This morning, I tried to wish someone into the person that I'd hoped they would be. This morning I mowed Johnny's yard, he's 85. frail, and likes to talk. All I ever wanted from this wee man was for him to talk with a whistle, and I'm almost certain that I heard it, though none of my coworkers </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114392851157900808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114392851157900808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114392851157900808' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114369386320223033</id><published>2006-03-29T22:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T23:03:38.966-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am addicted to connecting with people.The new Built to Spill album is exceptional.  Exceptional.I'm going to get a box fan to put in front of my window and point it away from me so I can send the delicious smell of cheeseburgers away from me and so I will stop walking over there to eat. I swear that those cheeseburgers are made of candy. They may be one of the best things in the world as Paul </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114369386320223033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114369386320223033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114369386320223033' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114342682660645790</id><published>2006-03-26T20:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T20:33:46.660-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I want to be the guy that people are glad to know.  I need to start letting people be themselves.Last night I slept in a Mexican hammock under the same stars I watched so long this January on Alexandro's roof. We make so many promises to ourselves about the people we're going to be, what we're going to read, and the places we're going to see.  Spending this summer in Shreveport, while breaking </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114342682660645790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114342682660645790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114342682660645790' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114327367803901282</id><published>2006-03-25T01:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T02:10:54.246-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dear Ndugu,I am afraid of being alone. Fear makes normal events more interesting. A walk to the County Market used to be a routine deal, now that we have to worry about armed robbery, the trip across the street is an adventure.   Tonight, I was alone.  It was a good time.  It was an adventure.About Shmidt was everything O'Neal ever told us, just like O'Neal said it would be. I'm going to start </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114327367803901282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114327367803901282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114327367803901282' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114318188515704431</id><published>2006-03-24T00:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T02:15:32.113-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There is a certain valor in not doing things you aren't good at.  It's painful when we can't see what those things are.I love Scrubs.  Also, cooking.Also, Adam's mom said I could pass for gay. There are things we wish we could take back. We've all got them. Being able to let stuff slide is one of the most attractive qualities anyone could have. I don't need to know every time that I hurt you, I'd</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114318188515704431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114318188515704431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114318188515704431' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114306813389899752</id><published>2006-03-22T16:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T16:55:33.906-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Awwwww shucks.And then I get three enthusiatic thank-you emails for pulling a 20 minute photoshop job at work.  Nobody ever hated being appreciated.It's a good feeling when you use something you made.  It's alot like using something you inherited or that was given to you.  The point is, it's stronger than if you bought it, and you can't really inherit things on-demand.  So, if you want a serious </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114306813389899752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114306813389899752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114306813389899752' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114283228243489625</id><published>2006-03-19T23:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T23:24:42.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This project is my last piece of pro bono design work.  I've done my time, I've gotten good at something, now it's time to get paid for it or move on and get good at something else.  There is a great deal of grey area between being a friend and being used.  I think it has something to do with the face they give you right after they ask.  Why do we excel at things?  Do I need to be used?  Does </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114283228243489625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114283228243489625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114283228243489625' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114281816214454053</id><published>2006-03-19T19:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T19:29:22.153-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Breaking up is hard to do.I want to be forced to build a friend network from scratch.  I want to move far away and have to fashion weekend plans out of a Friday newspaper and a short list of phone numbers.I'm the only person in my house that's single.  This would have bothered me a year ago, but now it's about as big of a deal as the age discrepency.  Happiness and confidence are where you make </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114281816214454053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114281816214454053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114281816214454053' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114266986343688032</id><published>2006-03-18T01:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-18T02:17:43.476-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>After 21 years, I am still not a hat person.If first impressions were always made by a resume, I would pass out sheets of paper towel or the Ruston Daily Leader.  Hello, my name's Paul, and as you can see by this sheet of paper, I am as boring as hell, and half as qualified. Jack White's new band launched their website, quality tracks.I hope my next house is not next to a fast food establishment.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114266986343688032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114266986343688032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114266986343688032' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114257811032298501</id><published>2006-03-17T00:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T16:43:03.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jack Johnson covers We're Going to be Friends on the Curious George Soundtrack. What a perfect idea. Yes, Jack, OK, you win, we can be friends.Tonight I told the girl at Super 1 to "Have a good time getting off." I'm not even sure how those words made it through mouth customs, but they got out of the country and into the land holycrapthisisawkward in a hurry.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114257811032298501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114257811032298501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114257811032298501' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-114248929569474215</id><published>2006-03-15T23:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T00:08:15.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been thinking.  The other day I saw two guys with ties on bicycles and I thought.  I hoped that we're all who we should be.This page is going to have 100% more capitalization and punctuation from here on out.  And less whining, emotional is so 2004.Top 5 albums?Neutral Milk Hotel - In an Aeroplane Over the SeaBuilt to Spill - Perfect From Now OnPavement - Crooked Rain, Crooked RainKings of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114248929569474215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/114248929569474215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114248929569474215' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-109929358322985276</id><published>2004-11-01T01:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T21:50:04.513-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've missed my blog. I miss knowing that nobody will read this anytime soon. And if they do, the only way I'd know is if they told me. I like it when they do that, tell me things, it's a good time.I'm listening to The Hudsons, they're coming to Tech in January, I'm going to get to play with them.We focus too much.  We can't change a mind.I was listening to all of my Ben Folds last week, "Mr. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/109929358322985276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/109929358322985276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#109929358322985276' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-109089742987080106</id><published>2004-07-26T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T23:54:54.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i'm sickand i'm very tired.and the thought of going back to school, while thrilling the hell out of me, also pisses me off to no end.everything is a pretense. you never see more of john belk than what john belk wants you to see. he's one of the most genuine and stripped people i know, but we only know what he wants us to know. that's no shock, i'm aware, but let's spread this out, shall we?why do</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/109089742987080106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/109089742987080106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#109089742987080106' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-10890850719340824</id><published>2004-07-05T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T21:49:47.200-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>so much shit hitting so many fans.what the bloody hell? why do i have to take it from you? why don't i make a list of the people i hang out with in a shameless attempt to make you feel as if you were out of the loop.  Tee hee, i had fun, and now i have to tell you about it to prove it. i'm so sick of this shit, and i'm taking it from all sides, and everyone's so worried about their short list and</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/10890850719340824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/10890850719340824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#10890850719340824' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-108666683659214001</id><published>2004-06-07T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T22:16:48.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I think I have it figured out, ask me, I was dead on with the halfway thing, I just had no faith. It took a little more indifference to hammer it home. I hang it up, it's over, I will chase no more, I will play it cool. If you catch me doing otherwise, kick my ass, you have my permission. Tonight, riding with The Roots, windows down, sunset clouds, all was groovy.Thank you for the perspective, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/108666683659214001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/108666683659214001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108666683659214001' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-10863261999490736</id><published>2004-06-04T00:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-04T00:16:39.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>there's a trade.  either you know everything and are totally cool with life being ok, or you drop everything you thought and feel like shit because instead of there being hope and no gold, you don't even have hope.  if for one day someone would tell me what i had done right by them, the last time i made them feel a little less crappy, or just got a damn call-back, i don't think i'd ever need a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/10863261999490736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/10863261999490736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#10863261999490736' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6067898.post-108552921517754689</id><published>2004-05-25T18:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T18:53:35.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i hate this thing.  i am going to get some cake and ice cream.  it will be ok.because it has to be ok.dammit.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/108552921517754689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6067898/posts/default/108552921517754689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peach-cobbler.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108552921517754689' title=''/><author><name>paul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13061087286495170652</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
