<?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-736862915690671914</id><updated>2011-08-01T18:31:59.208-04:00</updated><title type='text'>an enigma wrapped in the ordinary</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-5890657006117733926</id><published>2009-02-17T17:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T18:13:03.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>simplicity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SZs-sAWV4aI/AAAAAAAAAEY/NMIsZm1UdeM/s1600-h/Monopoly-UK-edition-board-games-291442_1024_1024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303901911887765922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SZs-sAWV4aI/AAAAAAAAAEY/NMIsZm1UdeM/s320/Monopoly-UK-edition-board-games-291442_1024_1024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is a certain innocence that gets faded  as we grow older.  It's hard to hold onto it as people disappoint us, the world engages in war, hunger and poverty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reign&lt;/span&gt; supreme in many nations.  As we grow and our eyes and ears become open to the news and the world around us we, by nature, become jaded.  There are things we cannot change; though, we will try.  There are things we will never know about or see simply because life isn't that long.  There are things we will be exposed to that will test our souls and our will in ways we never could have imagined.  Darkness will fall on each one of our lives more than once.  It is in all these moments we need to try and recall those days of innocence.  The days when cut off jeans and sprinklers were what lit up our lives.  The days of lemonade stands and roof top tag.  The days when shopping for school clothes and supplies meant that we got to go out to lunch with our parents.  The nights we stayed up listening for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt;.  The smell of fresh cut grass on that baseball or soccer field.  The first snowfall where you ran outside &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hoping&lt;/span&gt; there was a enough snow for a snowman, then coming in for hot chocolate.  There are simple things we all to often ignore now that we've grown into new and interesting adults.  The adult world is not what we expected.  There are bills to pay, work to attend, weddings, funerals, traffic tickets, snow to shovel, and the list goes on.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am a simple person.  I love to collect and play monopoly games. Starbucks and a kit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;kat&lt;/span&gt; can make my day.  Two hours in that batting cages or laying on the couch with my dogs.  Long lunch with friends or playing with our toys at Gigi's.  I am a lifelong learner and enjoy school.  My tattoos have deep profound meaning in my life, but the days getting them with friends and loved ones brought many great laughs.  On a bad day a new pen or a walk on the pier can turn my mood around.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I guess what I'm saying is... in the middle of our stressful and mundane lives we need to look for the simple things that make us smile.  Look for some innocence in our lives.  As it turns out it isn't completely lost.  It's always there.   It's those little things we over look and take for granted.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-5890657006117733926?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/5890657006117733926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=5890657006117733926' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/5890657006117733926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/5890657006117733926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2009/02/simplicity.html' title='simplicity'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SZs-sAWV4aI/AAAAAAAAAEY/NMIsZm1UdeM/s72-c/Monopoly-UK-edition-board-games-291442_1024_1024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-3940199218766720172</id><published>2009-02-12T15:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:30:09.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's cold again...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SZSGZRRzvzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KfiVMPFYr4M/s1600-h/london.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302010430014865202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SZSGZRRzvzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KfiVMPFYr4M/s320/london.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My soul itches today.  Not in a bad way.  Just in that way that I am 'never satisfied' .  I want to be somewhere.  Do something.  Learn something.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My eyes are scraming for the sight of anywhere but here.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-3940199218766720172?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/3940199218766720172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=3940199218766720172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/3940199218766720172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/3940199218766720172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-cold-again.html' title='it&apos;s cold again...'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SZSGZRRzvzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KfiVMPFYr4M/s72-c/london.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-5313823883468865557</id><published>2009-01-26T14:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T14:52:33.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i live!</title><content type='html'>There was a moment.  It is unclear when it occurred and maybe that is the way these moments are meant to be.  There was a moment in time when I went from surviving to living. &lt;br /&gt;My soul was itchy. &lt;br /&gt;My soul ached.&lt;br /&gt;My soul was beaten.&lt;br /&gt;My soul was misguided.&lt;br /&gt;My soul was for a long time surviving. &lt;br /&gt;I didn't know until I realized I was again living.  In this moment today my gratitude is unparalleled.  There were few who took the time to make sure I left the house when not working.  Who took the time to make sure I enjoyed work and didn't give into the darkness that surrounded by not going.  Who took the time to text me daily just to make sure I was okay.  Who let me talk about myself, which is something I hardly do.  I have found in these few people the true meaning of loyalty and family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I sit here alive.  So alive.  My soul is ready for anything.  Thank you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-5313823883468865557?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/5313823883468865557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=5313823883468865557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/5313823883468865557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/5313823883468865557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-live.html' title='i live!'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-1848632094415721046</id><published>2008-08-20T17:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T17:45:20.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SKyPrrsGxdI/AAAAAAAAADA/Gx89-Ltjaqc/s1600-h/schoolposter-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SKyPrrsGxdI/AAAAAAAAADA/Gx89-Ltjaqc/s320/schoolposter-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236718447349908946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this what I want or replacing something?&lt;br /&gt;Am I too old?&lt;br /&gt;Will I get bored?&lt;br /&gt;Will I fail?&lt;br /&gt;Will I fail myself?&lt;br /&gt;Is full time and work full time to much?&lt;br /&gt;Will everyone look at me like I'm nuts?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I feel like a five year old?&lt;br /&gt;Will it all be worth it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-1848632094415721046?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/1848632094415721046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=1848632094415721046' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/1848632094415721046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/1848632094415721046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/08/school.html' title='School...'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SKyPrrsGxdI/AAAAAAAAADA/Gx89-Ltjaqc/s72-c/schoolposter-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-6922211298381737697</id><published>2008-08-14T15:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T15:37:32.322-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SKSJRoLQbUI/AAAAAAAAACw/nsYPB6DgL0s/s1600-h/SpeakNoEvil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SKSJRoLQbUI/AAAAAAAAACw/nsYPB6DgL0s/s320/SpeakNoEvil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234459602846772546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My chest is aching with feeling.&lt;br /&gt;My mind is racing with thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That bitch locked my words down though....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-6922211298381737697?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/6922211298381737697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=6922211298381737697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/6922211298381737697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/6922211298381737697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-chest-is-aching-with-feeling.html' title=''/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SKSJRoLQbUI/AAAAAAAAACw/nsYPB6DgL0s/s72-c/SpeakNoEvil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-4086024316542556539</id><published>2008-08-01T15:21:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T15:49:36.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not all book learning here...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SJNiuOV9mQI/AAAAAAAAABc/4ldAIgdbT2s/s1600-h/books-22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SJNiuOV9mQI/AAAAAAAAABc/4ldAIgdbT2s/s320/books-22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229632138570995970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now fully enrolled and registered back in school.  I guess I was bored with life.  I want something more.  I want all my dreams to come true.  Not only do I want to chase them I want to catch them.  This seemed like a good way to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside of school there is also much learning in life that take place though.  It isn't written in books although it should be.  I'm not going to write a book, but I will share what I've learned in life and know to be my truth right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you say you are grown up and living a "normal life" more than likely you aren't.  Look inside and figure out why exactly you need to laugh at others in their life process.  Realize more than likely you are still in the last steps of what is your process to becoming that "adult".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you feel the need to say you are "drama free" you probably aren't.  You are putting some form of drama out there and wanting someone to look your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is okay to be who you are.  Walk through life with your head held high even if the person standing next to you or passing you on the street doesn't like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being kind to a fault is more than okay.  Give all you have to give to those you love.  Even if they don't return it you will feel good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when it is hard.  Feeling selfish and a little jealous about some things is okay.  I mean honestly how many of us out there are going to be making the sainthood no matter how good we are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because you are kind and good doesn't mean others are.  It takes all kinds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe you deserve good coming your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have loyalties.  Have them for the right reason to you.  Stand by them hard and firm.  It may be hard and it may hurt, but if you can't look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night because you jumped on a band wagon or betrayed someone just for one night of laughter.  That's not so worth it.  Those that truly love you will let you live how you want and understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you run your mouth you look stupid the next day when you do what you said you never would.  So always be careful to say what you mean and mean what you say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect that what others believe to be their truth in life is okay.  Hey, if it doesn't work for you just walk away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your faith is stretched so thin that everyone can see right through your soul, look inside.  That is when you will learn the most about yourself and humanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-4086024316542556539?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/4086024316542556539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=4086024316542556539' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/4086024316542556539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/4086024316542556539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-not-all-book-learning-here.html' title='it&apos;s not all book learning here...'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://bp2.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SJNiuOV9mQI/AAAAAAAAABc/4ldAIgdbT2s/s72-c/books-22.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-1747321367134585414</id><published>2008-08-01T04:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T04:13:22.101-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SJLEYvdMd2I/AAAAAAAAABU/xt7JUIWSV1U/s1600-h/Sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SJLEYvdMd2I/AAAAAAAAABU/xt7JUIWSV1U/s320/Sunset.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229458046665389922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we stare off into the sunset and think about the "should've, could've, would've, what ifs" in life what are we missing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to, but I think I miss out on a tremendous amount of the here and now thinking about the past and the turns I could've taken.  I don't regret anything. Yet I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in my next life I'll go left instead of right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-1747321367134585414?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/1747321367134585414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=1747321367134585414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/1747321367134585414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/1747321367134585414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/08/as-we-stare-off-into-sunset-and-think.html' title=''/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://bp2.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SJLEYvdMd2I/AAAAAAAAABU/xt7JUIWSV1U/s72-c/Sunset.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-247709035719181699</id><published>2008-07-25T15:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T16:01:08.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>lookie what I got...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SIouwM05-WI/AAAAAAAAABM/MQwpoi7Tj34/s1600-h/blog+award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SIouwM05-WI/AAAAAAAAABM/MQwpoi7Tj34/s320/blog+award.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227041723128609122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that for some reason that I am really not able to wrap my brain around, &lt;a href="http://houseofd24631.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;My Champion &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; has bestowed this award on my humble little blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules for such an award.&lt;br /&gt;Pick five (5) blogs that you consider deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and also for contributing to the blogging community, no matter what language.2. Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.3. Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award itself.4. Award-winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of “&lt;a href="http://arteypico.blogspot.com/"&gt;Arte y Pico&lt;/a&gt;” blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one problem, I've only been doing this for a very short time so I've not explored the blogging all that much.  I do however thank my champion for acknowledging my humble thoughts in this way.&lt;br /&gt;I also promise to explore and read more so that I may follow the rules and pay this award forward as it is meant to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please allow me some time.... and stay tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-247709035719181699?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/247709035719181699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=247709035719181699' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/247709035719181699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/247709035719181699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/07/lookie-what-i-got.html' title='lookie what I got...'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://bp1.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SIouwM05-WI/AAAAAAAAABM/MQwpoi7Tj34/s72-c/blog+award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-529540623116864542</id><published>2008-07-23T17:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T17:37:08.185-04:00</updated><title type='text'>there is healing in the pain as much as there is beauty in the breakdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SIejNTJN1fI/AAAAAAAAAA4/z9ZocLKpgj8/s1600-h/broken-heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SIejNTJN1fI/AAAAAAAAAA4/z9ZocLKpgj8/s320/broken-heart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226325341459305970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone ever noticed the person we lie to the most is ourself?  We can be brutally honest with anyone who walks in the door.  We can be honest to a fault (which by the way I am).  We can make grown men cry by simply answering the question they asked us the the brutal honesty and sharpness of our tongue.  However, with ourselves we dial it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As humans we feel pain in many places and ways.  Some pain is good.  A piercing or tattoo on any given day to remind us where we are in life.  That's good pain.  The pain of missing those who have past away.  Good pain.  We don't like it at all and may wish we didn't have to feel it, but it's good non the less.  The sting in our muscles after a good work out.  Good pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the pain the heart feels.  This pain does not remain just in our hearts.  It consumes the body.  We become tired.  So tired we can't sleep.  We become hungry.  So hungry we can't eat and crave nothing, but we are hungry.  The pain in the heart is perhaps the greatest pain we as humans will ever feel.  There is no way to slow it down or stop it.  It is this pain that prevents us from being honest with ourselves.  We do not want to be the cause of our own heartache.  Who would really?  So, in turn we put a spin on everything.  We tell ourselves little white lies to get up in the morning, eat, go to work, basically function.  We rely on others to tell us the truths we cannot tell ourselves.  This however has one minor flaw, we then turn and call them liars and say they have no idea because they aren't in the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The challenge I have found is knowing the hard brutal painful truth in your head and getting your heart to follow.  This process takes a long time the heart doesn't want that pain your brain knows it soon will endure.  So, we take it little by little. Step by step. Day by day.  Soon enough it's been two days then three.  One mile walked then four.  Our heart has felt the pain our brain knew was coming.  Our brain has become honest with our own heart over time.  Giving just a bit of honesty each day letting that heal and pointing out something new to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at the end of some most likely long and very unspecific amount of time we have finally been that honest with ourselves that we so readily unleash on anyone else who asks (and sometimes doesn't).   That day will feel really good.  This I promise you.   So, take the time you need to hurt yourself.  Take all the time you need to be brutally honest with yourself.  Just do it though.  In the end the all healed up heart feels a thousand times better than that cracked up one we protect from ourselves and the truths we know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-529540623116864542?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/529540623116864542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=529540623116864542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/529540623116864542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/529540623116864542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/07/there-is-healing-in-pain-as-much-as.html' title='there is healing in the pain as much as there is beauty in the breakdown'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://bp3.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SIejNTJN1fI/AAAAAAAAAA4/z9ZocLKpgj8/s72-c/broken-heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736862915690671914.post-765376732646122216</id><published>2008-07-10T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T01:27:01.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>out of the rear view mirrors....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SHWZouduEGI/AAAAAAAAAAg/nac685AKwks/s1600-h/100_0400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SHWZouduEGI/AAAAAAAAAAg/nac685AKwks/s320/100_0400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221248267952459874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We often sit and ponder the past.  I'm not sure why because when thinking about the past you aren't living in the present and most certainly cannot see the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think of "the good old days" we long for times years ago.  In these moments we are missing the now and each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have we not any value in who we've become,  the people we have grown into?  That makes no sense to me.  Then why grow?  Why educate? Why dig deeper into our souls and look for people to share our lives with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've chosen people to get to know and share my life with.  We are all ever changing and growing.  These are all good things.  Sure, some things are different now.  It's not EVERYONE at volleyball then doing one o'clock shots and playing pool on a Sunday night.  Does that lessen the value of our family?  For me it doesn't.  Do I sometimes wish I could count on looking over and seeing the face of my champion challenging mother to a game of pool while dad "checks the lights" outside?  I most certainly do.   Every Sunday.  Then I take a second and realize that what we've become is just as good.  Mother and I inventing some sort of shot while Timmy does his homework and reads someone.    Before any of that happens champion stops in for a cup of coffee and to tell some ridiculous story before singing one song and heading out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was two Mondays ago.  That very special moment in time when we all converged on the cafe at once.  We ALL stayed til the very last call occured.  We joked, had a beer or two, a shot or two, a bottle of water or two.  There we were that whole family.  Not planned at all, but it felt good.  And only the day before someone was complaining about not being able to grab the past and bring it back.  I wonder if in that moment on that late late Monday night they realized what I did?  You can't touch the past so stop reaching for it and enjoy the present and look to the future.... it all falls in line and feels just as good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736862915690671914-765376732646122216?l=anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/feeds/765376732646122216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736862915690671914&amp;postID=765376732646122216' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/765376732646122216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736862915690671914/posts/default/765376732646122216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anythlngbutordinary.blogspot.com/2008/07/we-often-sit-and-ponder-past.html' title='out of the rear view mirrors....'/><author><name>anything but ordinary</name><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://bp3.blogger.com/_n7yHUelvVBE/SHWZouduEGI/AAAAAAAAAAg/nac685AKwks/s72-c/100_0400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
