tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13542189711983205232024-02-06T19:17:21.106-08:00northern comfort.i am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-81722258281933988932012-04-15T21:15:00.002-07:002012-04-15T21:45:13.445-07:00so maybe i should try this again.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">perhaps i should blog again!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">it seems that whenever i am in the habit of "blogging" things are much more well-documented and organized. however, life is rarely that simple, eh?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">well, let's see. two things have happened in my life that are worthy of noting: </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">-i did not get into grad school. yet again. ugh.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">-i met someone pretty wonderful. he brings a lot of peace and comfort to my life!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">other than that, things are as they are. james is growing up so quickly! he is a little loveable almost-three-year-old. he still calls me "auntieeeee" and has the same fascination with trucks as he did when he was practically a newborn. love that kid!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">ugh, this blog is starting to sound like a family newsletter or something awful like that. let me see if i can really pry open the corners of the ol' ticker a little bit:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">there's been a lot of times this year when i have felt as though the rug was ripped out from under me. and- as to be expected- it takes me by surprise but at the same time i've felt pretty calm throughout each day. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">that's something else! life has been pretty peaceful. not like everything has been perfect and without stress, but i suppose i am no longer allowing the stress in my life to create a hold on me. i honestly feel fairly undeserving of what has been given to me lately. i feel like i held my hands together, palms held open- and God gave me these small beautiful gifts that are just growing, growing, and growing to the point where i have no idea how to cultivate or take care of them. i love "them" so much, though. i think God knows that. i am so thankful. i am not always careful, but i am putting forth so much effort, and so much heart. and that's something that is "new" for me- well, new for the colder-hearted-me. as one once put it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">honestly! that's what it is. i don't feel as though i deserve this much greatness. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">my mom beat breast cancer. in like two months! she's amazing. so strong, so positive, so inspiring. before her major surgery, it was really a terrifying period. i took deep hugs from anyone and almost cried at the thought of any of it. my life has never been shaken up in that way. i have always seen my life as this ongoing adventure, and the people in it as characters that never perish. but the thought of some sort of awful, horrifying sickness devouring someone i love the most in the world- it did more than shake me up, it made me reconsider the way i look at life and the way that i chose to love people. because it is a choice, isn't it? absolutely.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">but! she beat it. which is just another example of God's grace in our lives. even if she hadn't beat it, my faith in God would be none the less powerful. He really does do things on His time, and He knows exactly what's up.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">i feel like i'm racing through this. sorry! i wish i could slow down.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">being rejected (once again) from graduate school was something i felt fairly prepared for. i kept my hopes realistic this time around. i can't escape from the low-GPA chapter of my past, it seems. i have had to force any thought of becoming a Speech-Language Pathologist out of my life for now because it's just too painful to remember. there's nothing that i want to do more as a career, and for now the door is very tightly closed. but i fully trust that God has another path for me, and it could just be that becoming an SLP is something i will do later in life. either way, God's got his hand in my future, and that's good enough for me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">now, for what i feel is the most underserving portion of my life; my heart. anyone who knows me, if even for a few days- knows how hurt i have been by previous relationships in my life. i have let people cut very deep into my core, and change who i am for bits of time. most recently, i had let a very good friend use me and my emotions as some sort of safe guard. in any occurrence, i have given a lot of myself to men (boys) who have thrown those bits of me to the ground, and left me alone with all the damage in my hands only. i guess that's not fair to say, but for the purpose of this blog, it makes sense.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">and then, one night i had a date. at a restaurant in my hometown. and, it's so silly- but after a few moments i just knew. knew what? well, i have absolutely no idea. that's what is so incredibly fascinating about this whole thing- i haven't figured that part out yet. i guess you could say that i just knew it was different, somehow. he was different. i was different. you get it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">but, what i do know is the peace that surrounds me when he's nearby. i have never felt so inspired to be sincere and honest. i have never felt so okay where i am. and so cared for! exactly where i am. and appreciated. and wanted! and taken care of. and really, just valued. it's a different pace, and i like it. there have been nights sitting by the stove, and dinners that he has made. nights watching sports and drinking beer. late nights when talk becomes gibberish and feelings are disclosed. barriers broken, rushes overtaken, and moments suspended. i have never found such thrill holding someone's hand. i sound like a lovesick adolescent; but honestly, isn't that how we're supposed to feel when this sort of thing happens? when even snow can't keep me away, and staying in bed until 1 PM keeps the world at a standstill. being silly and forgetful is harmonious and i would do anything to relive some of those nights. tranquil motions and unkept looks. the overlooking moon lit the path to my car, and that one morning the weather was actually pleasant. snow just meant a shorter goodbye, but an even quicker return. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">you seem to light up everything you have near.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">aurora. that's what it is! that's exactly how it has felt, and how it continues to feel. as if life is always at daybreak; a sunrise that is just never ending. calm, and at the brink of something fantastic. calm daybreak. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">and there is always that lingering fear of hurt. but it doesn't counter the feeling nor frighten it away in the slightest. who knows what tomorrow or even two days from now will bring! so, as always- i remember how important it is to cling to what i know now, and let God do the rest.</span></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-91443238674336167142011-09-26T21:56:00.000-07:002011-09-26T23:09:47.434-07:00genuine.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the fact that this is my first post in almost a year is pretty ridiculous. there's been journal scribbles and Word documents saved- all blogs "to be"- but it's been a pretty long time since i've sat down and really wrote something.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the topic or sequence of thoughts that has been on my mind is: a genuine heart. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i used to believe that living by my feelings was an okay thing to do. and while no one likes to grow older, it's inevitable that at some point we discover that that leaves us wanting more in the end. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i have had this on my heart and my mind to write about for a while now. i'm not in the mood to use much creativity or analogies to get across what i'm trying to say. part of it feels like i just need to put it in writing so i can be held accountable by myself. and in case anyone else feels the way that i do, i might as well publish it on my pathetic social networks.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i've been challenged by this thought lately: how Genuine is my heart? my heart for God, for others, and for my life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">so! i've decided to break it down in a few lists. because i like lists. even if i don't always follow through step by step like i should.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Strength</b>: when it comes to faith, how much do i actually believe what i claim that i do? on what level am i questioning things, and what specific things do i need to challenge myself to learn and research? beyond facts and endless questions, how much time have i spent actually asking God the questions i want to know?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i want to become stronger in the things i claim to believe. i don't want to be playing "the part" that can be so easy to stumble into. in no way do i want to strive for perfection- just authentic strength. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Honesty: </b>how honest am i with God (as if He doesn't know everything already), and how honest am i with those that i claim to love? i've learned over the past few years that real love causes us to be brutally and inarguably honest with one another. my relationship with God has caused Him to be more honest with me, and me more honest with Him. but how much of that do i hide out of shame and fear? what kind of place am i putting honesty above all other things such as approval, and security?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i know honesty isn't always beautiful. but i'm beginning to understand how vital it is. being dishonest is a blanket that allows you to hide from real relationships, and authentic living. i believe that being more honest will teach me how to be more authentic.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Certainty: </b>how certain am i of the freedom that i have with God? do i really believe in His freedom and what that means for the rest of my life? because it's been quite a few months since i have actively sought out a relationship with him, have i just become comfortable in a way that i shouldn't have?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i know that not everything can be proven, and therefore i suppose it's a frightening thing to feel certain. but there have been some really incredible time periods and moments in which i have felt very certain. but should i pretend that i feel that way all the time before i do? because i don't feel that way all the time. i'm not saying that i don't believe in the basics of my faith, but how certain am i that a freedom exists that is always preceded with a love i could never totally return? i want to realize the freedom that awaits and exists. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Receive: </b>this one is pretty darn difficult for me. have i really received what has already been given to me? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i know that if i don't accept that, i'll never be able to fully live out the way that i'm meant to. if i don't accept that Love, i won't be able to fully return it and give it out to others. i want to receive every blessing, every horrible thing that happens, and every mediocre thing that i may possibly overlook. receive absolutely everything, and be able to learn from every bit of it so that i can pour out something to someone else.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">so, then i've been thinking about two different parts of me; my mind, and my feelings. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i want my mind to be transformed by God in a way that it hasn't been before. i want more logic, more reason, and more compassion. i know that compassion is usually connected with the heart, but i feel as though my mind needs to put my priorities in a certain order so that i can act out in compassion. i can be damn selfish sometimes. i want so badly to rid myself of that, and i want to be compassionate in ways that actually work in our world today. my mind is where i allow decisions to be swayed and time to be wasted. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i want my feelings to become more and less important to me. i want my feelings to be transformed more into intuition rather than immature rationalization. i want to understand more of how God can use the feelings that i have to better the world we live in, and my attitude. unlike the way that i've allowed them to control my perception of myself and others.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">in all honesty, there's enough bullshit in the world without my help. i'm sick of half-believing things that i have the capacity to fully embrace. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">sure, believing and having beliefs is one thing. but i want to create a more genuine heart within myself for God, others, and my life. and in that order, too. i don't mean this to be a resolution list of all the things i will do and the expectations that i have for myself. i just wrote this list tonight while thinking of ways that i could become more genuine in the world. </span></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"F</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 15px; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">aith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.</span></span></b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 15px; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">-Hebrews; 11:1-2"</span></span></b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and so with that quote, i want to point out that i know i cannot create faith. i know that everyone has their own beliefs, and i refuse to let anything get in the way of how i love them. whether it be differences in faith, distance, or my laziness- i want to be able to fully stretch out my arms to every person as far as they are meant to. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the only finger i'm pointing is at myself, because while i've been able to believe in the basics of my faith- i haven't been able to honestly stand on the firm ground that has presented itself before me without wavering in my authenticity. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">again, i have no interest in perfection. even if i did, i'd be out of luck. no matter how clumsy, messy, or unpredictable my life can sometimes be- i want to only be authentic. i want to love honestly, walk with strength, live with certainty, and genuinely receive so that i can act in love as well. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">most of all, i want to not just feel compassion but build a genuine heart that can break down barriers of fear, pride, and insecurity. there is a lot of life to be lived, and i so want to spend more of it thinking about others and less about myself. unless i am genuinely honest about everything i believe, everything i question, and everything that falls in between- i'm afraid i will only be half-living the life that i could.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-32106189953481256582010-11-01T00:27:00.000-07:002010-11-01T01:42:59.830-07:00wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtKzXbJwM86wfamzfa1kzImEIBqO35iXCgxSfEkKsBMpdCeZsDnYKnVOHMqUp-VGGLsH8WUN4XmwZa-I_avy2l-lf7fiiSPVF06vn4SOVdm2P4bA4vDkBHOVU5R_7GcAYctntL6nR_HAE/s1600/first.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534495896907458226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtKzXbJwM86wfamzfa1kzImEIBqO35iXCgxSfEkKsBMpdCeZsDnYKnVOHMqUp-VGGLsH8WUN4XmwZa-I_avy2l-lf7fiiSPVF06vn4SOVdm2P4bA4vDkBHOVU5R_7GcAYctntL6nR_HAE/s320/first.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">as a disclaimer; every love <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i've</span> ever experienced has been worth every moment that i had to spend losing it. every cheesy romantic experience <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">i've</span> been fortunate to live through, hurts when reflecting upon. but without them i would feel more empty than i already do.<br /><br />the funny talk we had while raindrops hit our cheeks, watching you smile in the movie theatre chair next to me, smelling peppermint and snowflakes on Christmas Eve with your family, sitting on the cold summer grass seeing shooting stars whip past, the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">excitement</span> of seeing a new message in my inbox and knowing it was from you, dinner with two close friends, shivering underneath a blanket during a scary spring storm and you telling me that nothing bad would happen there, the warmth that's still on my skin from the southern summer sun as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">i'd</span> drive into town to see you, watching the fan spin, late night walks around the neighborhood, driving as far as we could to get 30 teenage minutes to ourselves, and of course ending my senior year of high school with my first- young- love. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">the subject of my admiration is all of them. "them" being experiences and the people that will forever reside inside of them. they only happened because i let them, and because i was willing. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">i have been playing the part of a pessimist lately. and no wonder it's cloth has felt so itchy and irritable to my skin. it's fibers are binding, and i can no longer breathe. it isn't me. and the bitterness has taken over. that spacious hole is there because i let it create itself. you must give something permission to change you. and if you resist, it just digs at you until you're hollowed out.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">i know what i want. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">i've</span> always wanted the same thing. the only thing is that at some point i gave up, and i let the world's lies dig deep into me. i compromised things that i <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">should've</span> held fast to. i settled with my own unrecognizable behavior, and i laid every hope and daydream quietly in my hand and let the wind take them wherever it desired. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">and i deserve the entirety. i will not settle for half, i will not settle for uncertainty, i will not settle for one foot in and one foot out. i won't stop believing and i will find someone that can twirl me just the right way.<br /><br />and i want to give nothing less.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">hearts are infinitely fragile. we know this- that's nothing new. but we all desire the most careful of hands to cradle the misunderstood and most hopeful bit of us. we have to be born with most of it, and maybe the rest is learned. but regardless, love is about protection to the best of one's ability- and an assortment of thousands of other lovely things.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><br />cynicism will <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">poison</span> every ounce of your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">blood</span> if you allow it. life can take you fantastic places if you allow it. if you allow yourself to settle, then you will. if you willingly believe, if you willingly give, and if you willingly hope- then the aspirations that are held deep in the small lump that gives you a steady <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">rhythm</span>, will hold fast to your life. what you desire will have no way of dodging you and your forgiving lips.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">i used to love change. for a lot of different reasons, but mostly because it meant that something significant and different was on its way. i saw everything as preparing me for the next breathtaking chunk of something i was going to witness. this is before i fell into hiding, before i convinced myself that love was something tricky, something hurtful, something that will always betray you. but something inside of me tonight reminded me of what made me want to keep the search party out until the wee hours.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">it's easy to feel a huge array of emotions without understanding where they originate from. but somehow, we all know our own limits. and once we've hit them, there's no reverse. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">there is a type of love that brands you from the inside out. there's a kind of love that keeps you driving long distances late into the night. the kind that bridges gaps within yourself, that makes you want to literally run as far and as fast as you can to feel that feeling just one more time. there's a kind perfection that has more flaws than you'd originally hoped, and inside of it all the world sits perfectly on its axis.<br /><br />raindrops will stall, plans will be altered for the better good, feet will be set in motion, palms will feel as though they're on fire, running will feel too slow, dust will not settle, static will cease, and desperation will be beautiful.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">and just like that, hope is always restored.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-69791111739489136862010-10-28T10:24:00.000-07:002010-10-28T10:43:41.782-07:00goodnight, dear void.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKFZAYVXnl6WfU7dRufbH_4GOPYYVlOVdmMcXrR7f5sYT9THM81zgN-QE41IsSyYAa2lhvzIoajZJYITQgyQy0FrXzEaXI8aQvy00GqVupz4DDbJLMg_nuwGWos8rE2RV2-PuRVFW3PtI/s1600/tumblr_laynup33UO1qcvxkso1_500.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533149707870105538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKFZAYVXnl6WfU7dRufbH_4GOPYYVlOVdmMcXrR7f5sYT9THM81zgN-QE41IsSyYAa2lhvzIoajZJYITQgyQy0FrXzEaXI8aQvy00GqVupz4DDbJLMg_nuwGWos8rE2RV2-PuRVFW3PtI/s320/tumblr_laynup33UO1qcvxkso1_500.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">i feel remarkably 13 again. there’s this backwards motion that seems to be taking place, and i can't find anything to grip. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">but i suppose that’s how most things happen, when we’re in the other room. or other side of the street. or other side of the bed. or other </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">side of the movie screen.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><p>there was something once familiar, something hopeful, and some sort of genuine light that seems to have vaporized. the truth is, i don’t know if any of <em>this</em> is worth any of the <em>that</em> anymore. i know years ago i would’ve told myself differently, even just a few months ago- but the farthest completion of thought that i can reach out to is either five and a half hours away, or 2,000 miles in the past. the not so very distant past.<br /><br />and i love thoughts! i love filling out forms, and scheduling things. i love having ideas and writing thoughts down. it feels like each word begins, and are finished before their completion. i know it doesn’t make any sense, but my eyebrows are tired from the frowning and my stomach is sick of the upside down turns it reluctantly takes whenever i see the newest of things that feel like the oldest of terrors.<br /><br />there are horror films, and masks, and bloody make-up. there’s things that jump out at you, and ghosts in movies. there are loud noises and creepy whispers. there are thriller novels, eerie moonless skies, and of course- things that go bump in the night. things that stare at you from all angles. but fear, is suddenly not so terrifying anymore. and there is so much work begging to be done.<br /><br />not meaning to go all Taylor Swift on you, my invisible audience or the lack there of, but it all leads up to the word; heartbroken. something i relied on, disappeared. something has restored an amount of vulnerability, and now i feel incredibly exposed. maybe i was looking the other way, or maybe i lost myself inside of something that was never really there to begin with- but something is now different. </p><p>i used to see the stars held captive in the blue, and i used to hold hands still that wanted to shake. there’s no allure in the dark taste or the smell i used to crave. i stretched out, and found it had all packed up, and left.<br /><br />but the unvocalized bits slithered through my fingers, and blamed themselves in ink. folded fibers devoured the words that i never knew i had to say. probably discarded, and most likely piled up with all the rest. but regardless, they’ve left me now- and the hole feels a little less spacious.<br /><br />i have discovered: i long for that contentment. i desire that sunrise that only i and one other can see. i crave that displacement that brought me right back to where i should’ve been. i hunger for the still trees and their shifting leaves. i want the frosty windows that only i and one other see out of. i thirst for partnership and the idea of continually being on the same page. the same book even! i wish for the weightlessness of falling sideways, and i am pleading for an act of stillness. i know i’ll find it. there would be no such desire if there were not a resolution.<br /><br />or gosh, just a little time. just a little time before all waters are disrupted. just a little time before every bit of the clarity once achieved is certainly forgotten. just a little moment, or two.<br /><br />but this use of words is what brings me back to the beginning. grass, trees, stars, sand, waves, moon, gravel, porchlight, fleece, rough fiber, feather necklace, empty beer bottle, and a-sigh-of-relief. enamoured with the world above, and the world beside me. and i can’t find an antonym strong enough. and if i could, i’d use it to jab and sever that painful verb from my existence. the one that led to phrases, stories, and aspirations.<br /><br />and i can’t be brought back anymore. not when there’s no one, and not one thing to meet me there. the objects, the things embedded in the ground and the sky are lost. i have learned this lesson in years passed, and a mere few weeks ago- and still, i can’t quite compete. magnetic, fascinating, attracting, intriguing and mesmerizing.<br /><br />i want to tell myself it’s only because it’s a late hour, and that morning always brings a different type of exhalation. but i know better.</span></p>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-8678409540981305162010-08-28T01:21:00.000-07:002010-08-28T01:23:51.379-07:00even if there were an option.<blockquote><br /></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">we often do things to make ourselves miserable.<br /><br />we eat until we become sick. we watch movies that will make us feel a certain sickeningly lonely way. we look at pictures of things we cant have, places we can't see, and people we will never know again. we forget sunscreen. we drink til we puke. we spend money we'll never have. we lunge head first into a pair of arms, unfamiliar or familiar, as if we're diving into oncoming traffic.<br /><br />the jump, the dive, the lunge- is all the happiness and euphoria there is to find in something like that. we are obsessed with the fall. when, and if, we land; we run. or we are run from.<br /><br />i used to think i wasn't a negative person. and maybe at one time, i wasn't. i think at one time i knew the importance in the jump, and the rest came as it came. i remember when i woke up on that couch, and sat up. you know how when you fall asleep somewhere unfamiliar, and you wake up terrified? i woke up startled, and unnerved. there was a huge, wide window with a world's view to the illuminated blue sky and it's puffy white clouds held tightly captive within their own will. i tried to see everything from the perspective in that one moment, but all i could do was fear. and that's not me at all. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i've</span> taught myself to fear, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">i've</span> woken up startled.<br /><br />i guess there's only so much hiding you can do. only so many covers to protect you from what's no longer there, and the space that now exists between how your skin felt there and how it no longer feels at all. i can't stop the relentless picture show that continues to run behind my eyelids. friends help. family helps. movies help. books, coffee, wind and rain, cold mornings, clouds with stars, glasses of wine, new shirts, an orange kitty, running, blocking it out, letting it consume you, letting things drift from organization, the music, writing- it all helps. but what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">im</span> beginning to realize, is that something through me or just myself facing the mass of it, must cure it.<br /><br />so without the running, and the hiding, and the false hope- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">im</span> standing in front of the disaster site with eyes wide open. facing it with a clear head and cold air beside me is the only way to truly see what has unfolded while <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">i've</span> been away. or before i woke up startled. no damage has been done by other people, and i can literally feel that for the first time. the damage is within myself, done by myself, and must be healed by myself. well, myself and the one person or "thing" who has always proven to somehow care in these days <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ive</span> known.<br /><br />sometimes it takes something like this. something like this, that can make you see yourself with a pure honesty that is the purification you needed to do on your own. and the term 'on your own' comes with every sting of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">loneliness</span> you can imagine. but that's okay. the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">loneliness</span> can teach great things, and can wake up bits of you that have lost their pulse in the fight.<br /><br />and, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">i'm</span> terrified. a new city, the newest me to add to the collection, and an insane amount of fear. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">im</span> absolutely petrified of this new life that's about to begin in less than a month with or without me- and i have only once choice, but to be completely and totally there. in every second.<br /><br />so these things that we take pleasure in, the things that burn us and overwhelm us- these things that make us miserable- will never fade, and never cease until fully dealt with. until full faced. until fully confronted and fully recognized as full of power but not more powerful than the power that lies within you. within me!<br /><br />and to let yourself be known by someone else, and to take a chance to truly know someone else- is always a risk.<br /><br />what's funny about it all, is that this summer has been insanely amazing. at times it has hurt so terribly bad, but so much of my fall has been caught by a new group of friends who seem to mean more than i allow anyone to. my dear, amazing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Pelly</span> family have made me so wonderfully happy- and certainly in times of need. i am so fortunate to have had this summer back at home. and while other bits of my life- bits that my heart cherishes more than i could ever write and admit- have fallen apart, i have had something to count on in those friendships.<br /><br />anyways. in short, lesson learned. you can let yourself fall apart within yourself and you can hide. these things take minimal effort. and while the strength inside my mind, my heart, and even my fingertips is fading and almost non-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">existent</span>, i am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">choosing</span> to face what's gone wrong within me, and what can be salvaged from my months, and possibly years, of neglect. and oh my, it still hurts. the silence is almost more than i can begin to understand, and the inability to reach out to anything is almost suffocating.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">i'll</span> never go as far to say that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">i'll</span> never take a chance with that bit in the center of my chest again, but i absolutely must let people love me. i must not stop loving. i must accept words that are kind, and accept those that feel most unkind. i must accept everything! everything with gratitude, and i must let this remainder of this summer overwhelm me as it already has, and i must face the fear that comes with this new city, this new school, these new people, and all things unfamiliar.<br /><br />and, so it is.</span></blockquote>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-61878285054836647782010-07-07T00:35:00.000-07:002010-07-07T00:41:29.750-07:00star mile.star mile, joshua radin.<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;">Old doubt and a girl by your side she's feeding your pride<br />As you go for a ride<br />Down the star mile<br />World's rise as she lets you come in<br />A duo begins to the hollywood din<br />Of the lonely<br /><br />And all the gold dust in her eyes<br />Won't reform into a ring<br />You had and lost the one thing<br />You kept in a safe place<br />Remember the face<br />The girl who had made you her own<br />And how you left her alone<br /><br />All's well at the base of the hill<br />You might need to fill<br />A prescription to kill<br />Off the sirens<br />Look down from your tower on high<br />And take in the night<br />Look her right in the eye<br />She'll listen<br /><br />And all the gold dust in her eyes<br />Won't reform into a ring<br />You had and lost the one thing<br />You kept in a safe place<br />Remember the face<br />The girl who had made you her own<br />And how you left her alone<br /><br />Life comes to those that'll choose<br />The regular news<br />Over playing the blues with the light on<br /><br />And if you burn the road that'll lead you<br />Back to her in time<br />I'll watch you turn to stone<br />Can't find the sublime<br />She's moving on without you<br />The tide breaks<br />You watch the stars fake<br />They gather you back to their homes<br />I guess it's better than being alone</span> </blockquote>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-25556215909318501852010-06-22T19:34:00.001-07:002010-07-02T00:24:39.252-07:00summer.<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">or better yet, life after college.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> completely and willing<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">ly</span> wedged in a very strange place.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i am twenty-three. i am spending the summer in my hometown, (hopefully) saving up money, reading whatever books that i want, spending as much time as possible chasing my nephew around his kitchen and laughing at him while he dances, eating short lunches and dinners with my boyfriend who has a completely opposite (and hectic) schedule as me, riding my bike, serving people popcorn, and watching movies for free after hours. taking naps with my orange kitty and teaching him that the car is not a scary place.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">my friends have jobs. my friends are engaged. my friends are married. my friends have children. my friends are still in high school. my friends gossip. my friends are new. my friends are old. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i wake up, and have breakfast with my mom. i spend every night wishing that i was out on some adventure, but it feels as though the adventures have gone cold. the weather has maxed out at 80 degrees so far, and i got a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">sunburn</span> one <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">friday</span>. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i am making mistake, after mistake. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> trying to learn some sort of lesson that falls from the pieces that are left. the mud has dried up. the deer have now gone. i don't pick the grass to smell as i drive past. that floor no longer needs me, and the fan above regretfully spins the same. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> beginning to hate the light that reflects from porch lights, and i have not yet visited that pavement.</span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">but, there is a fine peace in the blue of those eyes. an infuriating happiness in the belly laughs that come from almost nothing out of the ordinary. the thrilling beginning of the way things could possibly end.</span></p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">there are nights, and summer doesn't feel like it should. well, at least it doesn't feel like it used to. and lately, i can't help but want everything to feel the way that it once did. i can't seem to appreciate the moment- there doesn't seem to be a moment to appreciate. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">there has been a ridiculously pretty sunset, and a sunrise that i seriously needed. i could sit there, and watch the small town lights blink and gleam all by my lonesome or with someone i trust. late night words scrambled with emotion seem to alleviate the pressure, and ignite something that will </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">never be understood.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">there is ice cream, and orange cream soda. windows rolled down and the lake tapping our feet. frozen yogurt covered in gummy bears and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">marshmellows</span>, lunches on picnic tables, and fruity energy drinks. giant sunglasses, sundresses, and purple <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">nail polish</span>. there is beer, there is wine, and there is whisky. there are short lived fevers, and blinks that affect the heartbeat. stares that burn past clarity and somehow, there is a clock that is documenting, ticking, and capturing all the things our silly little minds tend to leave behind.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">now that i think about it, and now that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> writing it out- maybe these days are resembling some kind of summer. not a summer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> known before, or a summer i expected. but, a summer. my mistake is always predicting the summer months, and being let down in the easiest of ways. and honestly, what else could i want, besides a summer that is unlike any <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> known previously.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">and certainly, forever young.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-50191120382303906952010-04-23T08:19:00.001-07:002010-04-23T09:24:58.010-07:00Day #9: Food & Drink of Saddlebrook<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">Day #9: Food & Drink of Saddlebrook</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">on those rare occasions where we didn't go out to eat, we cooked. we aren't the biggest fans of cooking, so we had a few regulars that we clung close to:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">1st meal ever in the house: tacos!</span><br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiADa2-75JpT0-aKyxmdrMfWYgbKPXlNBQgCquYDOlBs-3r6xbrEQDeHfuckT4sx6X7Cb4jeLxACPDQgE2EDugw_98VZJ5YqGBeOQvZGsHrqcWtDgRFTLHXUXSlw4UF1e5Ofx5Y2k6KYDJV/s1600/New+Camera+074.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463360151714988178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiADa2-75JpT0-aKyxmdrMfWYgbKPXlNBQgCquYDOlBs-3r6xbrEQDeHfuckT4sx6X7Cb4jeLxACPDQgE2EDugw_98VZJ5YqGBeOQvZGsHrqcWtDgRFTLHXUXSlw4UF1e5Ofx5Y2k6KYDJV/s320/New+Camera+074.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">on one of those days when class needed to be skipped...waffles and eggs!</span><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKzYIJdaPpGjgRG1EwsgQRrp3MF6PnaoYVhQKgFBNKqj8_0HodiLKs0ukj-_tE_F1OuaDy2bFQwSJgbq8mfsbOUunCgtW5KPiA5Svy78q2mZ8M_vqS9JB43Yw14E7_iTE1hQl9Cc7sWnz/s1600/Fun+Times+009.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463360142833059842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKzYIJdaPpGjgRG1EwsgQRrp3MF6PnaoYVhQKgFBNKqj8_0HodiLKs0ukj-_tE_F1OuaDy2bFQwSJgbq8mfsbOUunCgtW5KPiA5Svy78q2mZ8M_vqS9JB43Yw14E7_iTE1hQl9Cc7sWnz/s320/Fun+Times+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9iCj2m1KLByNh1LJlgRxV45rTbcG5EGhvpifIFt7P9QxDeT1ZUx4c8VMu4HQREJQsnox9LJj6UXTM423SANmeWijxmRS3aivfGExnF7MYmVVecurq7ROQm91JPF-cvhXt4kFC3g8H4R6/s1600/Fun+Times+005.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463360133759257746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9iCj2m1KLByNh1LJlgRxV45rTbcG5EGhvpifIFt7P9QxDeT1ZUx4c8VMu4HQREJQsnox9LJj6UXTM423SANmeWijxmRS3aivfGExnF7MYmVVecurq7ROQm91JPF-cvhXt4kFC3g8H4R6/s320/Fun+Times+005.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">keely's legendary syrup:</span><br /></span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0bgfJZnhtDaycDoem3zCO7qTTZ3zOX1YISpna3rHETh4uhylibj4X2HmlVlNw-G-xRobeSh-fZav13eesjzwVcUkSD0GFRafy22cG9PURqKt08yi4AChIuVHrFHJxW_HKQvEVcQAEQCw/s1600/Fun+Times+010.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463358350691137282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0bgfJZnhtDaycDoem3zCO7qTTZ3zOX1YISpna3rHETh4uhylibj4X2HmlVlNw-G-xRobeSh-fZav13eesjzwVcUkSD0GFRafy22cG9PURqKt08yi4AChIuVHrFHJxW_HKQvEVcQAEQCw/s320/Fun+Times+010.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcH2nS-bCTstf95UBJX7E-skK9ZkoOsK3L5vl6M8M4MxF446K-IOYFlOzWqN6ZPH5d11fuA4chZAY_hOKOkXzVtwikBGvcb70TqzqeijpDp2jflfZpsio_ueeDne01Tm8ndPxtdlMihCto/s1600/Fun+Times+011.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463358339985323794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcH2nS-bCTstf95UBJX7E-skK9ZkoOsK3L5vl6M8M4MxF446K-IOYFlOzWqN6ZPH5d11fuA4chZAY_hOKOkXzVtwikBGvcb70TqzqeijpDp2jflfZpsio_ueeDne01Tm8ndPxtdlMihCto/s320/Fun+Times+011.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFou93POiOoCpCkj7CqXd6INaqeV8_7tz9xTdhK5ScdjwvuhBiLxgydgUx67zDcmOdG-f9brKhYJEKiTFCwfR0FuxYxe0qVYtkrvZHhK0MGodfgKG-T_eFEF-8NJlKT997gb7JbYnO69W/s1600/Fun+Times+004.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463358328267685714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFou93POiOoCpCkj7CqXd6INaqeV8_7tz9xTdhK5ScdjwvuhBiLxgydgUx67zDcmOdG-f9brKhYJEKiTFCwfR0FuxYxe0qVYtkrvZHhK0MGodfgKG-T_eFEF-8NJlKT997gb7JbYnO69W/s320/Fun+Times+004.jpg" /></a> </div><div></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">glasses are some sort of luxury we don't need.</span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhyphenhyphenOBXvb-CTpNzCsgtCSxr7IpR8Ck6-4gvt8SPdGd16i14z1x-hpyUTKolZ_UdV-jaOBiPIcjXkq3aagjFq87WJ98LpXFtIZz6Jy-y7uu54W1cgL6tBFbgKpEd2aEOssXombNr18zAttk/s1600/000039ed4d0729ab.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463358320467644146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhyphenhyphenOBXvb-CTpNzCsgtCSxr7IpR8Ck6-4gvt8SPdGd16i14z1x-hpyUTKolZ_UdV-jaOBiPIcjXkq3aagjFq87WJ98LpXFtIZz6Jy-y7uu54W1cgL6tBFbgKpEd2aEOssXombNr18zAttk/s320/000039ed4d0729ab.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">mmmm.</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiColZj-Yw23ZesvMCeFCv8VWxT9Wz_pFoZRiBibdYERozxLZydRCEiwUZq5mz4sVuUkEaq5CQyjDBrnD2kR1HamqQ8sU8bKWqJ5WvIlCOV3LRiMSixMPSqAKwyogiJT-z0IRviXgZdxPOb/s1600/brown+hair+157.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463355549284535890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiColZj-Yw23ZesvMCeFCv8VWxT9Wz_pFoZRiBibdYERozxLZydRCEiwUZq5mz4sVuUkEaq5CQyjDBrnD2kR1HamqQ8sU8bKWqJ5WvIlCOV3LRiMSixMPSqAKwyogiJT-z0IRviXgZdxPOb/s320/brown+hair+157.jpg" /></a> </div><div><br /> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">and, </span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwkEiLRFqiuzMOEXAPWLc43yQBl5YhMBmxDTw3CbC9ZDYMbvSdbitwlVUZlcusmmUfMFc5NVMK8jJdWVpS83-e_V_zNFqL7x_U95vM4ZWDRDWtff0tJFQHVBLujPMLDvyuf_t4nN4Re-zz/s1600/brown+hair+009.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463355541789014658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwkEiLRFqiuzMOEXAPWLc43yQBl5YhMBmxDTw3CbC9ZDYMbvSdbitwlVUZlcusmmUfMFc5NVMK8jJdWVpS83-e_V_zNFqL7x_U95vM4ZWDRDWtff0tJFQHVBLujPMLDvyuf_t4nN4Re-zz/s320/brown+hair+009.jpg" /></a> </div><div><br /> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">which led to:<br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzsYcIwR3W0FZlVnow9m7eMglClycdY3dUFBIrKw7aamQmltAsauyY_5z2L6noaMx6KxSPF5ALBDOjq2dXPaKgxD430KB3ZROeInaC71bIaW6sW1fKg7I-1jn2qCiN9kX2l5gJ-Kb3vmb/s1600/drunk+011.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463355561572063266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzsYcIwR3W0FZlVnow9m7eMglClycdY3dUFBIrKw7aamQmltAsauyY_5z2L6noaMx6KxSPF5ALBDOjq2dXPaKgxD430KB3ZROeInaC71bIaW6sW1fKg7I-1jn2qCiN9kX2l5gJ-Kb3vmb/s320/drunk+011.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">the ol' ensure days.</span></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMo6Gkf2MNfz0fNwG1Hg9l7IYLJZTdla0V7_yoq-0cFPQ6lwr-5QRMyX-CE9r199wBlMyBLqUvyae64fiRFoEAs7TTu7Qj4HSdeTQ8Z1KiX-73FR4BVvq3we4jzi_cBH_bmw8AoawI54XY/s1600/ensure.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463355527899431458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMo6Gkf2MNfz0fNwG1Hg9l7IYLJZTdla0V7_yoq-0cFPQ6lwr-5QRMyX-CE9r199wBlMyBLqUvyae64fiRFoEAs7TTu7Qj4HSdeTQ8Z1KiX-73FR4BVvq3we4jzi_cBH_bmw8AoawI54XY/s320/ensure.jpg" /></a> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">and the other items in our food pyramid: </span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHyclqnj7slP6x1cDej4ECtfe_xqA92-T_TV5cn2vSDpuKE6d2S-GV8rn6-9nEBf6BGejh4TXXBjf1uxOFJKUafOZJV3Y82tKpChc-0gcKKsKFlApUFHZqOaYZBZlD8JLP3ITwtUk4_Pt/s1600/00taco+bell.gif"><img style="WIDTH: 269px; HEIGHT: 270px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463362239286983362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHyclqnj7slP6x1cDej4ECtfe_xqA92-T_TV5cn2vSDpuKE6d2S-GV8rn6-9nEBf6BGejh4TXXBjf1uxOFJKUafOZJV3Y82tKpChc-0gcKKsKFlApUFHZqOaYZBZlD8JLP3ITwtUk4_Pt/s320/00taco+bell.gif" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplZKus0Xu2tkvQupwLxKOsd6KucGu7_IqYIMcjmPJsUpmcGG44lZLP0vRqfzmWnc7CI116lEGCj3s4GOhyphenhyphenQPRRMNIlLvKFbbMYPs3SafXsWnUqqgnvLCX_lq12OvKgpoJOE86LPmzWNH4/s1600/pixie-sticks.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 225px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463362253234806754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplZKus0Xu2tkvQupwLxKOsd6KucGu7_IqYIMcjmPJsUpmcGG44lZLP0vRqfzmWnc7CI116lEGCj3s4GOhyphenhyphenQPRRMNIlLvKFbbMYPs3SafXsWnUqqgnvLCX_lq12OvKgpoJOE86LPmzWNH4/s320/pixie-sticks.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGX5x5l2H7Le181g4P2qlzY7VlWdaMLuBu6r3S0VPdKblhgCcEt96HnFr99UUJZZtlbIpNWzpNo_mFJd1-Yr-DfU7raMQ6HNl5SWmvNCyLSMwg3KX4dYBtYRTqMlmcDMcgJxPOhQ01WAIr/s1600/cartoon_pizza.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 270px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463362241793762866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGX5x5l2H7Le181g4P2qlzY7VlWdaMLuBu6r3S0VPdKblhgCcEt96HnFr99UUJZZtlbIpNWzpNo_mFJd1-Yr-DfU7raMQ6HNl5SWmvNCyLSMwg3KX4dYBtYRTqMlmcDMcgJxPOhQ01WAIr/s320/cartoon_pizza.jpg" /></a></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">and of course the burnt chicken i always cooked. still haven't mastered that one. </span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzs6GxnkwmHEGk54b5V0w2t13si25wL21VsaKtWv3US2JYkb__W7HqC6hhC61NGqG-ZL9vj235_9LNDWh7O7N_Ls7coyl5uVw0LQNGb8_hi42YalWOV5me9GERZfvGWvnNSg8eEFknE9o/s1600/00burnt.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463362231870601042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzs6GxnkwmHEGk54b5V0w2t13si25wL21VsaKtWv3US2JYkb__W7HqC6hhC61NGqG-ZL9vj235_9LNDWh7O7N_Ls7coyl5uVw0LQNGb8_hi42YalWOV5me9GERZfvGWvnNSg8eEFknE9o/s320/00burnt.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">"Great eaters, and great sleepers are incapable of anything else that is great."<br />Henry IV of France.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">well, that's a little true about us at least.</span><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">:)</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-7616462587853676892010-04-23T00:00:00.000-07:002010-04-22T22:19:23.967-07:00Day #8: Saddlebrook<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdUVS2RIzW9A-L7Hs7tFCiOS4hPPue6h6j_CGX2zU7Kdri4xVZu9kub-4_U1zHFpkfzVl58Gkg16CzWiRUxlWtH7EIyo5jJiq8FVa5IJXbRLILkM5VPDqSHlEDpFxL4eFy1ehYoAJIrEka/s1600/blog1.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463190253787653618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdUVS2RIzW9A-L7Hs7tFCiOS4hPPue6h6j_CGX2zU7Kdri4xVZu9kub-4_U1zHFpkfzVl58Gkg16CzWiRUxlWtH7EIyo5jJiq8FVa5IJXbRLILkM5VPDqSHlEDpFxL4eFy1ehYoAJIrEka/s320/blog1.bmp" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">hello there. i'm Abe. i'll be guiding you along this tour of the Saddlebrook house. i've watched over this house for the past three years, and put up with more shenanigans than i signed up for. without me, this house would be nothing. i've given up on the tenants of this household more times than i can count, but since i was born without legs- here i remain. so, i welcome you to:</span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;">Day #8: The Saddlebrook House</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">to begin, this has been my view day in and day out for the entirety of my stay. disgusting. </span></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv45jt-ORso_vANR3hLtj7wXgRZ4BDId_DLoEq7fTGvPK08pnkxyvzgPcy97ZIgpad2wE1Dpl4R44XYGXiw5Cnsn8GTlEbqGqvRuoeTttOWUnaoTU30VGZl1C-6xE4a5JvyHWjeA1bmZXo/s1600/blog2.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463190151655515554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv45jt-ORso_vANR3hLtj7wXgRZ4BDId_DLoEq7fTGvPK08pnkxyvzgPcy97ZIgpad2wE1Dpl4R44XYGXiw5Cnsn8GTlEbqGqvRuoeTttOWUnaoTU30VGZl1C-6xE4a5JvyHWjeA1bmZXo/s320/blog2.bmp" /></a> </div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">here's a shot of the place back in the beginning. Back when my only friend, the unnamed Owl, was still around.</span></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AVOWqJs3jm5Wn7eHl7Kpdgy0b9sVW8af4KD1a_5DNyxUDazVvmnJQ0V4J9Ddjk7NuVVDVpsQdDWxg4jJIcZnRUg_nADM6iXMEaOqD_HAiWK1c8qo0BTuSqYejSHgpZIGnt2gJpFHIqRx/s1600/brown+hair+112.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463195324393982930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AVOWqJs3jm5Wn7eHl7Kpdgy0b9sVW8af4KD1a_5DNyxUDazVvmnJQ0V4J9Ddjk7NuVVDVpsQdDWxg4jJIcZnRUg_nADM6iXMEaOqD_HAiWK1c8qo0BTuSqYejSHgpZIGnt2gJpFHIqRx/s320/brown+hair+112.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">an aerial view of the countertop. again, despicable.<br /></span></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNGE5zGWInIXFb9liV_O4EczJqN2fqISxB3uG8ZJRmI9m48elypMLMa5uXg4yxOh6D4aBadtVHHUXoLrmxsPF-V9mfoC_gqM_OrRsYJIyMPEunfd3RVuFXmIkK6CXmQb0pkUaQ-82etKN/s1600/blog8.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463188333630720402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNGE5zGWInIXFb9liV_O4EczJqN2fqISxB3uG8ZJRmI9m48elypMLMa5uXg4yxOh6D4aBadtVHHUXoLrmxsPF-V9mfoC_gqM_OrRsYJIyMPEunfd3RVuFXmIkK6CXmQb0pkUaQ-82etKN/s320/blog8.bmp" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">sigh.</span></div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jkX_0cXRs1ISUg1QhoK_rWfvrQe5RcigaRU9Z4WQK5Aam2AH-x7VQrMLRKDjZKSf0NHrLz37HugYGrQ3OQeawUfP69Ddxi672brZOy6iD-ONy_Ggrd6XAw-T67MFCCkE1pw2B7ULq10o/s1600/blog5.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463188068909007474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jkX_0cXRs1ISUg1QhoK_rWfvrQe5RcigaRU9Z4WQK5Aam2AH-x7VQrMLRKDjZKSf0NHrLz37HugYGrQ3OQeawUfP69Ddxi672brZOy6iD-ONy_Ggrd6XAw-T67MFCCkE1pw2B7ULq10o/s320/blog5.bmp" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">and here they are.</span><br /></div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSlBVUxPCdV2Rzf-o9udgQTIhdVEhk4ReRTIE7lnjHxD1hm6zF9V1BbU9lKRIizfrsHZu8foGSEnooyX2wPPsfsujrpiqIpWByXsM-nYZtSgXMbQqYzSVbvPzDhBd5T6QD1S91-zC5mw-/s1600/blog11.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463188351833885666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSlBVUxPCdV2Rzf-o9udgQTIhdVEhk4ReRTIE7lnjHxD1hm6zF9V1BbU9lKRIizfrsHZu8foGSEnooyX2wPPsfsujrpiqIpWByXsM-nYZtSgXMbQqYzSVbvPzDhBd5T6QD1S91-zC5mw-/s320/blog11.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7C-cAe_PSkjbzuz7CK6iuhpbOzmcCaBXxJ8yXIMBfTukvuQtdW9eAiPJmRVYiApVc06zX0lWL8-64oCxHNPmCtnWVbwlm_s_q6wvLYLJy2oi7QuMQu3snvb4MwA4GSWKXHeBTzTFVGhbK/s1600/blog10.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463188343611990354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7C-cAe_PSkjbzuz7CK6iuhpbOzmcCaBXxJ8yXIMBfTukvuQtdW9eAiPJmRVYiApVc06zX0lWL8-64oCxHNPmCtnWVbwlm_s_q6wvLYLJy2oi7QuMQu3snvb4MwA4GSWKXHeBTzTFVGhbK/s320/blog10.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">fridge decorations.</span></div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_kEsZyumdQsWtcUI3SYa7IC3Nk5p4Ak1SjfaqwCHhAuZHInG9ECdUz_rdIyuLFx6RHI5u20az2lig-SX829Tte8A-5x2zhujLr1LQuO24fixWz1fS17X08-JRPsIqED1ITNaEQpZBasI/s1600/blog7.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463188062616808450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_kEsZyumdQsWtcUI3SYa7IC3Nk5p4Ak1SjfaqwCHhAuZHInG9ECdUz_rdIyuLFx6RHI5u20az2lig-SX829Tte8A-5x2zhujLr1LQuO24fixWz1fS17X08-JRPsIqED1ITNaEQpZBasI/s320/blog7.bmp" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">got in trouble a few times for this one.<br /></span><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLeGmV5T7ukDVL8Em_QH3J70VfjUEQN_kokctZfIU3a24R5ksXGxH82BhhbOPuASko1oA-bFfphuNpmmXTcnV7UFDAd_-DEz2WbLez0mtC1CWcMvoO-eirINjxTTkt-e_MNPL8Gp0EsmaK/s1600/blog3.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463188059863550050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLeGmV5T7ukDVL8Em_QH3J70VfjUEQN_kokctZfIU3a24R5ksXGxH82BhhbOPuASko1oA-bFfphuNpmmXTcnV7UFDAd_-DEz2WbLez0mtC1CWcMvoO-eirINjxTTkt-e_MNPL8Gp0EsmaK/s320/blog3.jpg" /></a> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">always with the cupcakes.</span><br /><br /></div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiupykO5pyxbfweMCE_Cn9ExcFltZx5LATIfHSYjdsv9d53DdSdaoGEXiFDE5Q7WiDDiHpTkyySiq6cxW0y4qiR8ysyRq3NhhKRy1tnTOMST45VBvVvRyjGCBcTr_OZ5sjjXie7hEGg4AqL/s1600/fam+pets+022.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463185673872741170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiupykO5pyxbfweMCE_Cn9ExcFltZx5LATIfHSYjdsv9d53DdSdaoGEXiFDE5Q7WiDDiHpTkyySiq6cxW0y4qiR8ysyRq3NhhKRy1tnTOMST45VBvVvRyjGCBcTr_OZ5sjjXie7hEGg4AqL/s320/fam+pets+022.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">one too many tacos.<br /></span></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB7emeMPEPSoCYy_a7DlPLmCt5gTsY_48bTkP5wxE0_nYNY1FhD3Vns2JF80tCJp5lGmGVwnowMDCgiytOI4vfaFFwhomfSzxqiSiPcVoG1RCcOWuQ74TLIGMDu8IPB1ZBcHCQqjuKnsXR/s1600/New+Camera+109.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463185662619583762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB7emeMPEPSoCYy_a7DlPLmCt5gTsY_48bTkP5wxE0_nYNY1FhD3Vns2JF80tCJp5lGmGVwnowMDCgiytOI4vfaFFwhomfSzxqiSiPcVoG1RCcOWuQ74TLIGMDu8IPB1ZBcHCQqjuKnsXR/s320/New+Camera+109.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">holly, during one of his many daily talks with keely.<br /></span><br /><div><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463184206228704882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghUmrBtKgF-AvzeIPMQik6pRmYeFnRSmgek-p5Z38VRYO5v2HW2sJ_EIHVyiSKjaBm2RITDzt_mChorGCh7iQSVd-CqFk7oTyWuiSUlhtlODIIilCgs2N7YBu_pHQ1fip-jKbiesQA3SMz/s320/Spring+016.jpg" /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0kzkPGQzECOeErHFp8nGYpQhAiEhNDE8h_7y0zqcSSQxLTqzFJzB5U_FmNxuQaAzf32hITzKHoI0uchL2muaUviqO_ZZOPALjNJkC51vVkUjM8hQjcWPPrBzMaOYLpA9qwx-R_bWqvvB/s1600/cookies+002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462848686933979570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0kzkPGQzECOeErHFp8nGYpQhAiEhNDE8h_7y0zqcSSQxLTqzFJzB5U_FmNxuQaAzf32hITzKHoI0uchL2muaUviqO_ZZOPALjNJkC51vVkUjM8hQjcWPPrBzMaOYLpA9qwx-R_bWqvvB/s320/cookies+002.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jG0y_INip03qzhVr7CrQ0imi9AE8Sln8AnQu2lxvIVSxiaEiWn8C41jqHHN6yCkEvyxWmeca6UlYwAdIYA6OAMmuHdwUSyVsg-6_-fdt-uabE4xj9VB_ZSg3c5FhP4qoDxiUeJ5R4qX_/s1600/cookies+005.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462849733956685426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jG0y_INip03qzhVr7CrQ0imi9AE8Sln8AnQu2lxvIVSxiaEiWn8C41jqHHN6yCkEvyxWmeca6UlYwAdIYA6OAMmuHdwUSyVsg-6_-fdt-uabE4xj9VB_ZSg3c5FhP4qoDxiUeJ5R4qX_/s320/cookies+005.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:0;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FBT5uHTh1HbLBfFCJ3qtfE7xe_VGHtFpeoFB2pAOk0ca4dUULkVuO27G9SzWSwoF9xBj_BLZ8qwsZE8LUfJEMNlsvQzJVoUs8Bo58G_GBZuh8fWnazwWZJbKyO2OgKWPkvMZ0A4l_SxU/s1600/co+017.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462848650341839074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FBT5uHTh1HbLBfFCJ3qtfE7xe_VGHtFpeoFB2pAOk0ca4dUULkVuO27G9SzWSwoF9xBj_BLZ8qwsZE8LUfJEMNlsvQzJVoUs8Bo58G_GBZuh8fWnazwWZJbKyO2OgKWPkvMZ0A4l_SxU/s320/co+017.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkdKhQuQrH3eqkoTpyOnVeF6x2cTB6lCd8okwt8S4bVj3_HBGcwEviNJSoDsbeLTj9iqS4TpzE6eMvz4SQdc3anvBg2nZeRyLp0tGzbr1Mrx3maTajZrxV6U5ZhB87_L3on8VoQvWk5Fw/s1600/Columbia+026.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462848669117268770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkdKhQuQrH3eqkoTpyOnVeF6x2cTB6lCd8okwt8S4bVj3_HBGcwEviNJSoDsbeLTj9iqS4TpzE6eMvz4SQdc3anvBg2nZeRyLp0tGzbr1Mrx3maTajZrxV6U5ZhB87_L3on8VoQvWk5Fw/s320/Columbia+026.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">and a few others i'm not sure what to do with.</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-50620690601252655022010-04-22T03:00:00.000-07:002010-04-22T22:18:48.343-07:00Day # 7: The Quote Blog and Other Alton Adventures<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">to introduce it all:</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:0;"></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg976azMLD1Rt-w1-Ig986qpU0t782Q6KkJmrTDJFfONwKar1p1e7i4_VU4oZyNSLN9CtVVk1FbplQtGBz2dPWzWSXcFtlof6YkiD-3G57LUfRcRyrj5mpFTdWo5namCxqESUMYqRd-LOQe/s1600/Randomness+235.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463170668831844338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg976azMLD1Rt-w1-Ig986qpU0t782Q6KkJmrTDJFfONwKar1p1e7i4_VU4oZyNSLN9CtVVk1FbplQtGBz2dPWzWSXcFtlof6YkiD-3G57LUfRcRyrj5mpFTdWo5namCxqESUMYqRd-LOQe/s320/Randomness+235.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdXak12v5f8iH5DCTwPrgiUciP9wszjHZQdR7BmRJgpMIFK4oHIEKUep30ihpawkBvwfSCOli8-Y31_619jao25yq52Wxnz2yyToRdn7wouGjn2ZZJ0_-1rijQuh4ayPn7ELwoWNPJB4m/s1600/Randomness+227.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463170688411899074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdXak12v5f8iH5DCTwPrgiUciP9wszjHZQdR7BmRJgpMIFK4oHIEKUep30ihpawkBvwfSCOli8-Y31_619jao25yq52Wxnz2yyToRdn7wouGjn2ZZJ0_-1rijQuh4ayPn7ELwoWNPJB4m/s320/Randomness+227.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRf8wVp-60y7coGceQo7zsTNUrsT2fPEjaj7yFyjPJVE0PfQ1_TWIYTxVpsFEKu6RKdCme5MwPDjwRsV9O21tzc00KuVqbBqFWahrD1WiThGakjWUlCgQgFOMz9seGORihpBDaoYXVvfMd/s1600/Randomness+229.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463170663141715074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRf8wVp-60y7coGceQo7zsTNUrsT2fPEjaj7yFyjPJVE0PfQ1_TWIYTxVpsFEKu6RKdCme5MwPDjwRsV9O21tzc00KuVqbBqFWahrD1WiThGakjWUlCgQgFOMz9seGORihpBDaoYXVvfMd/s320/Randomness+229.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7mbjyj1mTQ0W7UhtyCWXDHKrRNxmG2r2ZqifelEt8XvuL5cIDkqvBhSQ2nUNOzeGbCoVPAk5RupEwnGxJZpiL45fh2RcSAMJHVPRPK2TfnC74EAiPcVHdNnr7r5laqHXLPNkPnuPtdWk/s1600/104_0206.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463169897738161074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7mbjyj1mTQ0W7UhtyCWXDHKrRNxmG2r2ZqifelEt8XvuL5cIDkqvBhSQ2nUNOzeGbCoVPAk5RupEwnGxJZpiL45fh2RcSAMJHVPRPK2TfnC74EAiPcVHdNnr7r5laqHXLPNkPnuPtdWk/s320/104_0206.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BostPDKkeuWCpyQKO_-SZFLnkO1AGRo2-fzRGqV77xPVHWcId9h8EiDFP-vdIgzSlMkNA1RrzHCrIZVum9s5isp0tUwgvs9rO21Kq8m1YIQMO123psO9Ry46VLKGiQSUeDqM8j6eXmRW/s1600/104_0211.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463169904945341954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BostPDKkeuWCpyQKO_-SZFLnkO1AGRo2-fzRGqV77xPVHWcId9h8EiDFP-vdIgzSlMkNA1RrzHCrIZVum9s5isp0tUwgvs9rO21Kq8m1YIQMO123psO9Ry46VLKGiQSUeDqM8j6eXmRW/s320/104_0211.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelxBmT8UFNVeLVKGaLUfLHpadTF234bmtRz5Mt7vPexIvOFyx4OkqJq7VSDFex7kfuls5scNnsn6KDoGgLxhCsG5xM_B4Oz7xcgei2RWP-rv8HHpL38vRYdcpJ17RUuy7Z3cnctCurXwe/s1600/jjjj+370.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 238px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463169873957412002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelxBmT8UFNVeLVKGaLUfLHpadTF234bmtRz5Mt7vPexIvOFyx4OkqJq7VSDFex7kfuls5scNnsn6KDoGgLxhCsG5xM_B4Oz7xcgei2RWP-rv8HHpL38vRYdcpJ17RUuy7Z3cnctCurXwe/s320/jjjj+370.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOPFDkTsyZdJjpal1b487qG5bU8zaVxsFncTZCjXZeuHzCqGLvKryCyaKsUXfmus_FLdCyZblbV_wTS00Dl0EwuFFpYOE5SF-Ya7EfLbG5eV0iF1in-WB2v9YrzF8LjdxYe2l0r3ED6Kv/s1600/jjjj+382.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463169882770176114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOPFDkTsyZdJjpal1b487qG5bU8zaVxsFncTZCjXZeuHzCqGLvKryCyaKsUXfmus_FLdCyZblbV_wTS00Dl0EwuFFpYOE5SF-Ya7EfLbG5eV0iF1in-WB2v9YrzF8LjdxYe2l0r3ED6Kv/s320/jjjj+382.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEvnigwmyxRM4-fKs1BK8A2qomrLqnZb2BRrZfjNtESq3IJrtdhoMD9XclQj1TyC5EQe8JNWNJsUb31CnznpVtV8jI9YleE1KAsmfzJda02Yy5dKCoi58XfxBeqgPr7OeXrJbfXjGc_s5/s1600/jjjj+381.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463169891370116770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEvnigwmyxRM4-fKs1BK8A2qomrLqnZb2BRrZfjNtESq3IJrtdhoMD9XclQj1TyC5EQe8JNWNJsUb31CnznpVtV8jI9YleE1KAsmfzJda02Yy5dKCoi58XfxBeqgPr7OeXrJbfXjGc_s5/s320/jjjj+381.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"><strong>Day #7: The Quote Blog, and other Alton Adventures</strong></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">first of all, Alton.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">a few things i'll always remember about this town:</span></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><div><br />standing, talking at the gas station.</div><div>the first tour of the town i got from Keely.<br />going to the river a few times.<br />pizza from the gas station.<br />ice cream from burger palace.</div><div>driving around, daring to find a ghost.</div><div>eating at stateline in the wee hours.</div><div></div><div>visiting this town always makes me happy. </div><div></div><div></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">and, ah, the quote blog. keely & her friends (im not sure exactly who!) came up with the idea.</span></div><div><div><div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">when i moved to missouri, i was largely welcomed by a group of people i'd never met. the first time i met the majority of these people was on the way to a basketball game in January of 07 when i moved here. we rode around in the land rover and i literally could not believe how hard these people were making me laugh. this group of friends from Alton had something within each other that was overwhelmingly hilarious. most of them grew up together, and always made me feel at home. they started a blog with all their amazing quotes from small adventures like that night, and i followed suit. some of these are from those friends in Alton, and some are from other people that i thought were quote-worthy.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">even though these days have passed, and i may never laugh quite like that again with quite a group of friends like them- i will always occasionally look at the blog, and be so very glad that i was there.</span></div></div><div></div><div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">the original blog can be found on my old myspace page:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/halcyonaurora">www.myspace.com/halcyonaurora</a></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">here are my favorite quotes:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Nick</strong> (me and keely wanted to stay home and watch Nacho Libre while the boys went to get us Krispy Kreme): Why can't we all just go as a family?</span></div><div>...<br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Jessica</strong> (talking about her boyfriend): Yeah, he really really likes cars.<br /><strong>Chris</strong>: Well, he's straight. So we can forgive.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">...</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Lyndon: </strong>Legend has it, that on SnowNight, the Snow Ghost comes out to eat children and shit out hearts.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">...</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Steven</strong>: I couldn't keep a straight face. And it's obvious that she couldn't. I say that because her face is crooked.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Jeremy: </strong>I think Japanease people are magical.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">...</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Brenna: </strong>I wish women didn't have rights so we didn't have to go to College.</span></div><div>...<br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Keely</strong>: You stole my heart.<strong><br />Lyndon</strong>: Yeah, and then I pawned it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Steven: </strong>(talking about me finding a murderer in my house) What if he was in a non-murderous position?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">...</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Keely</strong>: Our plunger is like, 'Hi! We have a plugged toilet.'</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Kacie: </strong>(talking about the dogs coughing in the other room) Who's harking up the herald angels in there?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div>....<br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Keely</strong>: I feel awkward the majority of my life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Brittany: </strong>(There was about six people in the drive-thru at McDonald's) Ah, shit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Jeremy:</strong> That's okay. Now we just have more family time together.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Jeremy: </strong>I had to babysit two 6-year olds one time. I had to breast feed one of them.</span></div><div></div><div>....<br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Ann: </strong>You know, ever since I made out with a 25-year old, a lot of doors have opened up for me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">...</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Lyndon: </strong>(Keely and I made him watch Crossroads) What does this movie teach you? How to be a slut on the road?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">....</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Keely: </strong>Holly's a republican.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>Me: </strong>What? Since when?<br /><strong>Keely: </strong>Eh, I just think he's trying to get on my nerves.</span></div><div></div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-192190130951520742010-04-22T00:15:00.000-07:002010-04-21T22:35:00.954-07:00Day #6: "8" Perfume, and Summer 2007<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">oh, how i wish blogs had a 'scratch and sniff' function.</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">one small inhale of this perfume, and every thought is devored by the hot, humid days and nights that would "set" sticky on my skin- of that summer.</span> </div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">Day #6: "8" Perfume, and Summer 2007</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdY7e5wip423Cheug65UNcrWNE9zw1IR2TUDiYoiqtxDzIWnb9Y0O42isVibu4GGXFdEMcTltF15wenxXXT9Avb3H8Ki_XwrfWmZLQjHCK2CgaS1gM_VxS-gjwBxRMp6HeJLtxhG_3AzFM/s1600/8+Perfume.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 168px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462281041132550930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdY7e5wip423Cheug65UNcrWNE9zw1IR2TUDiYoiqtxDzIWnb9Y0O42isVibu4GGXFdEMcTltF15wenxXXT9Avb3H8Ki_XwrfWmZLQjHCK2CgaS1gM_VxS-gjwBxRMp6HeJLtxhG_3AzFM/s320/8+Perfume.jpg" /></a> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">yeah right, as if this will be an easy blog to write.<br /></div></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">most days of that summer were hot and cloudless. most days i spent searching for a constant. the </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">air was like walking through a thick, humid cloud. i knew everything as steel that bent in a breeze. </span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HPYLQ3SQZVjeQaTnGjiumy5-lr8axq7XOUqUy59rf0c2bY2-Bvei6KFgp6TrWGC7MYMhgnB8Rv9qymdLaXFDcswvNzCfvVR1N4mwRf8Uheiqld_aG2OWHnj_-QMTYjIsGb-cVrMYOCJ4/s1600/n1307280041_30025271_3782.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462816432245836786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HPYLQ3SQZVjeQaTnGjiumy5-lr8axq7XOUqUy59rf0c2bY2-Bvei6KFgp6TrWGC7MYMhgnB8Rv9qymdLaXFDcswvNzCfvVR1N4mwRf8Uheiqld_aG2OWHnj_-QMTYjIsGb-cVrMYOCJ4/s320/n1307280041_30025271_3782.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFsahhEHTfBPmmVMa_wfO1nqfUPURHzTtRQtNZSsPW1euizj-XlRwbb9Bn27ezEXHmK5-DKC1qhNPdtZe0I_PDThyphenhyphenXQWLtCiyPFe5cHjiuE4W8UTdTiH3NG4sJkDb40BuvOTtKk-sKdQr/s1600/Summer+003.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462815406170480130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFsahhEHTfBPmmVMa_wfO1nqfUPURHzTtRQtNZSsPW1euizj-XlRwbb9Bn27ezEXHmK5-DKC1qhNPdtZe0I_PDThyphenhyphenXQWLtCiyPFe5cHjiuE4W8UTdTiH3NG4sJkDb40BuvOTtKk-sKdQr/s320/Summer+003.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2IEIP90hPpmaAiNawMdf9FDJ8KCQa9to-It3WbXYjPmxqvGiX0B6piBWQrewHptSguzDFAKM3eb33LeSozHvupaO6LZvm3jXjMyxHCuHiLyCUdt6P0biuYRxkgC-Mo64O7vs4dA8zzUh/s1600/104_0835.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462815384785227458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2IEIP90hPpmaAiNawMdf9FDJ8KCQa9to-It3WbXYjPmxqvGiX0B6piBWQrewHptSguzDFAKM3eb33LeSozHvupaO6LZvm3jXjMyxHCuHiLyCUdt6P0biuYRxkgC-Mo64O7vs4dA8zzUh/s320/104_0835.JPG" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDz59sopvamATYZZBcXybnJOiaeKTiP8O6hTDPBkTd5Vme4oSfCw6VUtw8w7x00g9HM58LVz9HWhGbt-lTM32Bx8bpteHvdQFBuGB17R5AXZftQg_pE8OdF2EW1iLA0Otf0ftfr77vQiE/s1600/l_1e763c73af4d405078646ac94d21661e.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462816442857875442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDz59sopvamATYZZBcXybnJOiaeKTiP8O6hTDPBkTd5Vme4oSfCw6VUtw8w7x00g9HM58LVz9HWhGbt-lTM32Bx8bpteHvdQFBuGB17R5AXZftQg_pE8OdF2EW1iLA0Otf0ftfr77vQiE/s320/l_1e763c73af4d405078646ac94d21661e.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyEWEzcWpnupwFAmnm-upssCFDozxCai7Hc0kNXwhWmpfGSF1yGwvuluYE8S-k4B1RYZzA_plOTXXiKRId-2_n1MK89E7D770YhU-bnkEkSQIvQHlBNCM6wT1Ok9_7S9SKsW5b87arJhKr/s1600/104_0682.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462815373930541250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyEWEzcWpnupwFAmnm-upssCFDozxCai7Hc0kNXwhWmpfGSF1yGwvuluYE8S-k4B1RYZzA_plOTXXiKRId-2_n1MK89E7D770YhU-bnkEkSQIvQHlBNCM6wT1Ok9_7S9SKsW5b87arJhKr/s320/104_0682.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkUgdWRxEMjFYYonL3enZ3DJDfHV45vVKrkme9szS038q3dcD4AVgnDCQLxJh6B-POEtP2JyHvY_rT5EReNlWw-vziOKFrElsKGFfxGQhgIilZLInkoooJrI5hAt4z7uAQXPTC1_cQlf6/s1600/104_0854.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 238px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462815393220927426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkUgdWRxEMjFYYonL3enZ3DJDfHV45vVKrkme9szS038q3dcD4AVgnDCQLxJh6B-POEtP2JyHvY_rT5EReNlWw-vziOKFrElsKGFfxGQhgIilZLInkoooJrI5hAt4z7uAQXPTC1_cQlf6/s320/104_0854.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsP1ZZnT3GPZGLwLSinop4AofHp1MWAi-OB72J_MrUy3wd-kXCnssuGOa4T5p7HXaMnxvtUV11WwjjcwSTLm3Nq8f48VILVqtANqmfuX7YzXjX2qHjaUgVP2nbGtO26Mz59nUjVWEnWi5T/s1600/104_0783.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462815375807756514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsP1ZZnT3GPZGLwLSinop4AofHp1MWAi-OB72J_MrUy3wd-kXCnssuGOa4T5p7HXaMnxvtUV11WwjjcwSTLm3Nq8f48VILVqtANqmfuX7YzXjX2qHjaUgVP2nbGtO26Mz59nUjVWEnWi5T/s320/104_0783.JPG" /></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462792216664156546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhccZminq3BXMzrcLCl12rwE1bFHtOf9Da-Q5yqBs96MgiCSRoCSxZjNxz8pyz1af7fjfgFSC4Cp2Cvx8QKaIWfjWA3K7yQB0b4vaszsH-Z5Af5Cd3p3IvPp0s_ueSZmmoszcYMkjUUhfez/s320/104_0652.JPG" /><br />the best way to describe all this? put it in subsections, of course.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Grapevine: </span>for those summer months, i spent a large majority of late mornings and early afternoons in a little deli/italian restaurant in west plains. i spilled a pie or two, and even caused one group of customers to leave without paying. i remember the night i met up with new friends from Alton to watch a movie after getting off work. i remember when keely & her cousin brittany asked me to go to the railroad tracks with them after work. i ate salad, after salad in between my breaks while reading cosmo. i drove to and from work with all the windows down, thanks to my lack of a/c. my hair was blonde, my skin was tan. i stuffed cash tips into my apron everytime i cleared a table. i sat in the freezer, on boxes of wine, when it was slow to escape from the</span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"> heat. i nervously checked out the back door and felt the sweltering heat cake to my skin moments after stepping outside. i danced with a boy during a wedding reception that i was catering, and he walked me to my car. i learned how to make coffee, and sweet tea. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462813048083592450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcp3syjRaeeplJEVFSOFssQUBAm40wLPNABZd7qhBoRhRBR2ez7QmgTTLEYQklNmWxonqGWHIZ6L6Z0-ddfZ7PA9J0m6a6PEZuKFr9HrYGoYm4NtwslkEJdhzWQf-DCXT-L0dhBHLuW8d/s320/Summer+006.jpg" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462813039261558706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7s8P9LjzaX8YPbxoWkItm_Q4TPVuigKmukSQLXjIb4lreNoQIS85o0jC56Wdmqmnch28LtvERX9i5dc1HrDjU5-leBT6fe3EfVssEwO4tztEV5gZK9Xy_MgWD8rUtv-1_J0VlATXSGha/s320/Summer+002.jpg" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Float Trip: </span>i went with keely and some of her friends on a float trip in Van Buren. i was terrified. but i wore a bikini for the first time, in a long time, and floated on down the river with new friends. we took breaks on the rocky shore. i got hit by a canoe. it started to storm and so i escaped out of the river as soon as possible. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Six Flags: </span>we took a trip to Six Flags in st. louie. i think we rode the big drop thing, (the Superman?), about eight times. we rode a ride that literally made you feel drunk afterwards. more rides, more rides. keely won a wonderwoman cape.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> :)</span></span> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462811368199994802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPy9M8vUIq-a_voaFgL1pyNECpelLxaPav-W8ZvaXO4uvGuoe8XldCocp_g5j0EbWnY_nGQthd0EHPa9MIVaTUmC177SoBw9wfL6mxgMa8rtl043wvxMT62Fe7eMt50cwA6bhHkfZdoayP/s320/104_0728.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462811362710997506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mbhzBq_LftHado4sbIpnDQR8SyePeca1guq4cws1VFkNVAAHpNkGfPix3nR-5-OVNHq35-xM-Rh9mW8GkTZtNd75fN-a_U4IIb5tz75z8LdiVwC46zkEdLX3Jgqj9BHtVlryYND49IdJ/s320/104_0710.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462811380523147746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLpRXEEBqWn_GgBxGtLZh2s0v2CGkEQx6TlFtxUyF0Hxku0kaBD5yj9QdhfNYuEaHwrBzNdnkxoAtCsAv7m32nXaGe0Sj8Ds2AZQ7EHYFkZSzuZ1sFGOmOBClHg2Q3aasK8nKJIPlAX0_/s320/newnewnew+293.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Thee House: </span>i guess i never had an official nickname for the house that i stayed in that summer, aside from "Keely's house"...in any case, it was wonderful. it had the most amazing views for the sunrise. there was Corky, Ginger, Jake, Tyson, and the ducks. the gravel road, the white fence, the red carpet, black carpet and the red couches, the staircase, the laundry room where i first saw Hollser (kitty), and of course the brick back porch. for three months, this was my home. Keely's mom told me "God puts the lonely in families." :)</span> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462806822660864818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinIlSoizDvrZ77UnvXYrKS9QRQ7JFSs-S9f8JrfHvZF9ejlEEEk50Y5AaIweTLYbrNTg_zgkMkv3WR-S449x1Xnjl7o-jQ1varbyP6cwLN5NbRmfhQUZ_NzRTbAkrfpXVeqJ9ywv8lroX8/s320/104_0811.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462806814092288434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjxFJHb_qajRQgeryc8WAk-kw038pn2iHAF4GLcRp06X90c6eYBMjbo5fZKMNOOfl79hXZcpo7ML6kk18auWdysghx7J4DiI7HW4M0mr-UIDDw4_Q0dzhgBilz2X8w3xVSI-96vnyO2dV/s320/104_0799.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462806806095016194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7e86_XHBvF4jBkQuyQvHl8-WfCevoWahuC9wdJFVZE5mohFv2nVyvqYRvCCK7ED0q7kpoNfDPAzz9PsrBv0O0pmhvX-WR_dbDwHQVj0sKAddRCY8Myd8qEupzrmloSDWrJvMhpDHH5TPG/s320/104_0784.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462806831012300434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpuGzFNaWipg4h0D9TY8pR3CxJzERAEBkrK3mprLepqT-ONxD1FXdCk1KmsFr5wg9OmIETc4LQuu6XUgb2m3QSBZ3wa4o0_Fy22N8xuuPT2buQ5j1fVKLWZiQ-79o-27EjpvDR8qqkYVT/s320/104_0814.JPG" /> <span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Oregon/Howell County Roads: </span>i love these roads. i've driven around different parts of missouri, coming and going- but these roads, are very different roads. after you leave West Plains and head towards Alton on 160, the world looks different. green fields, rolling hills, great full trees, gravel roads to the left and right, and my heart would beat vio</span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">lently once i passed the Alton city limits sign. i drove these roads after the sun rose in the morning, in the afternoon once the shade was starting to cover, in the evening and everything in my car smelled like coconut, and in the wee small hours of the morning when my mind was abundant with uncertainties and small bits of euphoria. i left these roads the same way that i came in August. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462803354300570162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyQ8tVvgg05C-WhV6ycgQkqg3PfhVfVtMgPOfATrXCPwZmzs0-b2Dnl1GST1Rk5c6DsIYoud0YCzVzPw7qjbu75sxE2gAznqoS-r3Skz2ixZIbEr1Edut04wKfsJrJ8XL0rjH5ZU0jC4Q/s320/Summertime+069.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462803365225250738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0agT8tgCeKTNE-yIY0hn_BNDZLHG_6v6lSnCP1VgfH2LF5o6dajdsPPGMYK2kxwliCiaeEqNCMW56ZEenoa-TWbCXbmOKnnjC2o1DPkjnDPE7shaWG3SIAhFS-telwMRcF05ZGzSerYL/s320/Summertime+070.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462803369550729090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfwZwwD80RcD4_LEjypL4VTVN1V5MZd8uBPWnwlrOVXOwz8zzSX2WUFfzHU6dvLyq81DyfamKVtrY2bprnPVqegU2kk4S-g1nCCyzAj4l82qiJJE-3JZxTKrU-0jppQaKTf2FBW4aqnER/s320/Summertime+073.jpg" /> of course, there's more to tell. so! for that, i thought it'd be interest to revert back to an older blog, one that i posted at the end of that summer. perhaps it can tell this story better than i could every hope to tell it now:<br /><br /></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" >"Summer's End, August 10, 2007:<br /></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;font-family:Verdana;" >its always been a dream of mine to be apart of something wonderful. a lot of little wonderfuls. knowing how you got where you are, only helps in getting you farther in the right direction.<br /><br /></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;font-family:Verdana;" >i became greatgood friends with keely. staying with her, spe</span></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;" >nding time with her & her family- it was all great. but never will i forget that day after church in may, when her mom said, "we've talked about this, & we want you to live with us this summer." she said that she believed God meant me to live here this summer.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;font-family:Verdana;" >oh, the excitement! you have no idea! i was absolutely thrilled!<br /></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;font-family:Verdana;" >and, i haven't always been apart of this "alton group". i didnt go to the high school with everybody else, & didnt play sports with everyone.</span></span> <p style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">but it always felt so much like "a" home. a home that was different from where i had grown up. not better, just different.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">to me;</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">this summer was unbelievable. i had the freedom to question things. i had the freedom to become who i feel i really am. i was so BLESSED to have met keely & her family, & then let me live here with them. </span></span></p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i ate at el charro at least once or twice a week.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i was a waitress.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i actually saved <em>some</em> money.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i rode terrifying roller coasters with the best of friends.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i floated down the river on a damn intertube & got hit by a canoe.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i went on a hike with two of my best guy friends.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i drove home everynight contemplating everything.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i saw the sun rise through my rearview window <strong>countless</strong> times.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i had the most <strong>amazing</strong> fourth of july.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i ate sunflower seeds & drank sprite with friends at wallace & owens until the very wee wee hours.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i spent hours & hours & hours & HOURS watching mtv with keely. :]</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i went running for at least a week straight.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i sat on the floor & ate pizza while channel surfing.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i played tennis, sort of.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i spent many sunday afternoons with people that fill my heart.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i went to the races.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i rented "snl; the best of christopher walken" & didnt return it for two months.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i got really really really stomach sick one day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i got a tan! & then lost it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i spent <strong>countless, </strong>unforgettable hours laying on my stomach drinking sweet tea & laughing so hard my stomach hurt the next day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i went on a walk around alton, at night, with friends.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i smoked quite a few cigarettes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i ate a truck stop countless times.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i had a wonderful trip home.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i stayed up til four a.m. with my roommate & best friend, talking about...well...absolutely nothing</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i passed college algebra!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i got so homesick some nights i couldn't breathe</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i walked around wal mart with my best friends for hours, looking. at kids toys, while lyndon & steven were consumed with the candy isle.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i had bad dreams, but always someone to talk about them w</span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">ith.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i spent a lovely hot afternoon swimming at chelsey & shellie's house, then ate ice cream at burger palace.</span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i i took many-a-drives to alton on summer evenings.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i laid on the grass with chelsea & watched the alton fireworks & listened to them boom in my ears.</span></span></p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">most importantly; i learned that if i hadn't opened up my heart a year ago & took a chance, i would've had none of this. & i want this.<br /><br />i </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">loved this summer.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">im going to miss alton, & living here with keely's family so much. ill miss all of you that are staying here. i really have had a blast this summer, no matter if it wasnt what everyone had expected. to me, it was flawless.</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">& thank you. everyone here has been great to me, so amazingly welcoming- i always felt as if id lived here forever. never really awkward or out of place. you all always did your best to know that i was invited everywhere & were so kind to me!<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">i dont know if ill be here forever, but when im old & certainly gray, wherever i may be, i will look back on this summer, this place, you people, & will remember feeling incredibly loved & alive. thank you.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">but now, its going to be wonderful & fun to move on, & be someplace new."</span></span></p><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></blockquote><div></span><span style="font-size:85%;">...so there you have it. well, sort of. there are many nights untold, and many thoughts still drifting around those gravel roads. in any case, it really was one of the best summers of my life.<br /><br />and the sepia-colored picture show of those days and nights that will always replay over, and over again in my mind on the rainiest of days will always, always bring me momentary happiness.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><br /><br /></span>as for that small little town, and that small little countryside- i am so happy that it let me be apart of its life for a little while</span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">.</span> </span></span></div><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-size:85%;"><div></div><div>and i kind of miss being blonde.<br />:/<br /></div></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDwjW-359cxmjSj_P9rOPCqU4R_kWf8CZD-gxwc5z2Fk39zox8HziifQYHIz1NAneWIvEDSyEv4IcJB09arP6SkP1vTjurKdM70yr6cmVBvi-rJhw1GGZZpijdsXs85ArsjXA3-QGMOBd/s1600/summer3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462282355700141490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDwjW-359cxmjSj_P9rOPCqU4R_kWf8CZD-gxwc5z2Fk39zox8HziifQYHIz1NAneWIvEDSyEv4IcJB09arP6SkP1vTjurKdM70yr6cmVBvi-rJhw1GGZZpijdsXs85ArsjXA3-QGMOBd/s320/summer3.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-36947183922725868632010-04-20T22:13:00.000-07:002010-04-20T22:25:30.380-07:00Day #5: Glamorous<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Day #5: "Glamorous"</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >while only a few people may remember the memories behind this lovely song, it'll always instantly snap me back to those first days in Missouri. actually, many days of missouri. we'd sing it in Nick's car in Springfield, and Keely and I would dance along with it and spell it out in sign language on our way to algebra class in Cabool.<br /><br />ha. classic. this song is definitely, to me, Missouri.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0SyUgw98tE&feature=PlayList&p=3A3285F45AEE8014&playnext_from=PL&index=0&playnext=1">Glamorous Video</a><br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoomy5m3nY9JvMPyer_MBG8t_VYONm497Ve_Fnt-66sqCPjVqv2BoxyUyPUWxDhL1gpr6iG85TPvCqaUxoqrHHaHsP7sQnmTQKuI_G1P68ufveqWNjDXz9ev-WRtlbkMG_kHnNFJ3fCyYn/s1600/Glam.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoomy5m3nY9JvMPyer_MBG8t_VYONm497Ve_Fnt-66sqCPjVqv2BoxyUyPUWxDhL1gpr6iG85TPvCqaUxoqrHHaHsP7sQnmTQKuI_G1P68ufveqWNjDXz9ev-WRtlbkMG_kHnNFJ3fCyYn/s320/Glam.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462456864659281682" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQM65rj0pi255regoStKK-9Qe9OSq-iSX7XXBIZXh_SXbsDa-unx3HoxzptfYd3vO1kn5jtnbBHHhi3J7lfgTTAb6fHhlmdmgMAGgLDvYlg3J8hru43Nu8Vnyt_yHFWe7wcl4qXsQmtoVR/s1600/Glam+2.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQM65rj0pi255regoStKK-9Qe9OSq-iSX7XXBIZXh_SXbsDa-unx3HoxzptfYd3vO1kn5jtnbBHHhi3J7lfgTTAb6fHhlmdmgMAGgLDvYlg3J8hru43Nu8Vnyt_yHFWe7wcl4qXsQmtoVR/s320/Glam+2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462456858973902162" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDz509ns6poxsfS66Ifttb3v6W3InpN5GaWR_3eD-a_ZgYfqWrB-FQZchdFA7UnFOyujvRl-5pcBY_imPEPiC498y5NSwboApxNH5fnGOv7wuIAc2GDWZrkaK5XS8wnBV9XZae_d7LSEB/s1600/Glam+3.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDz509ns6poxsfS66Ifttb3v6W3InpN5GaWR_3eD-a_ZgYfqWrB-FQZchdFA7UnFOyujvRl-5pcBY_imPEPiC498y5NSwboApxNH5fnGOv7wuIAc2GDWZrkaK5XS8wnBV9XZae_d7LSEB/s320/Glam+3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462456852674377026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehDTR_eqIaLZY4iDaFNl8V8ca-yORKz8anEcTs_PTgCvCtPO8GsKAMT1W5ukOKrIYOwAW2J9hr2aThpvQHf_Qtn597w6pdyl-RGs5ztEqq2dUq8OP4KG4CFXaDHXb0O7qgLm5O8U-HPag/s1600/glam+4.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehDTR_eqIaLZY4iDaFNl8V8ca-yORKz8anEcTs_PTgCvCtPO8GsKAMT1W5ukOKrIYOwAW2J9hr2aThpvQHf_Qtn597w6pdyl-RGs5ztEqq2dUq8OP4KG4CFXaDHXb0O7qgLm5O8U-HPag/s320/glam+4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462456847499932706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDRGRtK_jhE77VPQLXgsvpD6UHOm8S1Mo_bMX3qTWolzATjGgcPHFssRORnO5xJOrC5IGmvRew7k5dA60qJDl5JlabMqzjFCeHPso0V_HNZluRgE9BFJOmCKM5ut_VKeMdZrra3JrhnsbD/s1600/Glam+dance.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDRGRtK_jhE77VPQLXgsvpD6UHOm8S1Mo_bMX3qTWolzATjGgcPHFssRORnO5xJOrC5IGmvRew7k5dA60qJDl5JlabMqzjFCeHPso0V_HNZluRgE9BFJOmCKM5ut_VKeMdZrra3JrhnsbD/s320/Glam+dance.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462456840553023762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >if you ain't got no money, take yo broke ass home.</span><br /></span></span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-31740545465017404862010-04-18T20:50:00.000-07:002010-04-18T21:28:44.531-07:00Day #4: Bumperstickers<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">okay, so i have slacked on posting the past few days. so i'm trying to post three of them tonight!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">Day #4: Bumperstickers</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">these little gems were a brilliant idea on facebook- the perfect way to waste time. dig through thousands of strange little pictures, and then send them to your friends. these were pretty much an everyday activity, and the cause of failed quizzes and papers written at 3 a.m. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">a few of my favorites:</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKw6vNZYK0A97Xm-RFqSMoj-Yy3EveIZpmXUQWubNs6ecJdL1cyRcuJNNfvSxBum3QJfk6knUXTBgT0IPLxNxDe9kBPt72bekYkfb2yFQFLkj9a_3a3IVb0Zw6AGjyTjNYjqwU20x91yi/s1600/peyton_normal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 153px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461697281361424946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKw6vNZYK0A97Xm-RFqSMoj-Yy3EveIZpmXUQWubNs6ecJdL1cyRcuJNNfvSxBum3QJfk6knUXTBgT0IPLxNxDe9kBPt72bekYkfb2yFQFLkj9a_3a3IVb0Zw6AGjyTjNYjqwU20x91yi/s320/peyton_normal.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvsPPmuz15Y1UObpdQnNLsuZIgX_cRlqsuWSh-AEAV7j_yKrApoOi9lHsmgOX7zFU5IJ2BlL6CR_Hc8YSomq9cT8IjU5KqSIUxquYhT8UDhF6xEK2xF_GFEDlU230y9-SSMTCiL55VnDJh/s1600/zgdfdf_normal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461696887018317858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvsPPmuz15Y1UObpdQnNLsuZIgX_cRlqsuWSh-AEAV7j_yKrApoOi9lHsmgOX7zFU5IJ2BlL6CR_Hc8YSomq9cT8IjU5KqSIUxquYhT8UDhF6xEK2xF_GFEDlU230y9-SSMTCiL55VnDJh/s320/zgdfdf_normal.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS72c5Fpc95bbNm5toYf9SxwaIcnMl72mj6R-E0kr4MXLyzJsFwKuv6b8HsD38VmWW_GNKOCMMpGCXInYs6k8NXCWYnHFVqxQkOEJXOJTVRcEGPSArpa7UXa0seQth6szK7IVUp6HOY3kc/s1600/z80455219_normal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 168px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461696441655497330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS72c5Fpc95bbNm5toYf9SxwaIcnMl72mj6R-E0kr4MXLyzJsFwKuv6b8HsD38VmWW_GNKOCMMpGCXInYs6k8NXCWYnHFVqxQkOEJXOJTVRcEGPSArpa7UXa0seQth6szK7IVUp6HOY3kc/s320/z80455219_normal.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA03r2OF-SvbXEjJSdgquS7XLvNHNy3p3lbc1IIs_mZZBs4WIc_vvgrc3gc1Rp37O3g5ekUQHsXdbRFDuTmZjtBmGgIFhOZ07G5Bvy3a5tevwmdqE9sFOxVerz3iLx0RQo0blWZ00khsaf/s1600/taco.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 145px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461696433864721250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA03r2OF-SvbXEjJSdgquS7XLvNHNy3p3lbc1IIs_mZZBs4WIc_vvgrc3gc1Rp37O3g5ekUQHsXdbRFDuTmZjtBmGgIFhOZ07G5Bvy3a5tevwmdqE9sFOxVerz3iLx0RQo0blWZ00khsaf/s320/taco.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuRIBvXDDn-UzrTXSk2KJGd78pskqXzI-Bh1Rj_DsX2D8JLgXm8WgM35V5HCjAKGSaItxYZhI9_577M9p7SgsgNZnKmrXhLtSWueb8vpVNpC1bJUbVyRA1s6nQZrJpcljJVkSQcJU918L/s1600/streets.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 167px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461696430736830466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuRIBvXDDn-UzrTXSk2KJGd78pskqXzI-Bh1Rj_DsX2D8JLgXm8WgM35V5HCjAKGSaItxYZhI9_577M9p7SgsgNZnKmrXhLtSWueb8vpVNpC1bJUbVyRA1s6nQZrJpcljJVkSQcJU918L/s320/streets.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3e5VR7-pkN_rN4L8fKiR26e9kW5DEk9gyNMJ_fWXE8PemwcFTUsXVG_Q5p_U35sV188bdbm38GQugQxnMUXIljAM4ufjZ4KCPRH2TcG-CutYg8FmN820I5_uN_ARvSP7l1z7fMkPfMvnh/s1600/stick.gif"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 33px; CURSOR: hand" 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block; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461692893015251026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1A_9CN5ESX1vbomEDNABjRpNzFkRReBfR_HHO_tJHTF6K360Q1O5MJLQENqBqsqCvhyE6MH9pfGjmbA_Ya6LFljLKmMG0DTBa65IWG7DP804o48NfSGZ38CmHulnnw3IrkUX-C4fZQW7/s320/app_full_proxy.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1K0ymvNHzYx1Ot8RfwQ7IrFA4QESA7sB6mQAbTZtbel8ev1tdrMjQvHRtiWy2AEEW7IfMldlfR6Cn6VPZnoO6W51WKFYAP0MJ85xKlDSE7w8DCXxb0nkllysty74pFkWlvHUlWN-D4zI/s1600/2015001_normal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461692888587556610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1K0ymvNHzYx1Ot8RfwQ7IrFA4QESA7sB6mQAbTZtbel8ev1tdrMjQvHRtiWy2AEEW7IfMldlfR6Cn6VPZnoO6W51WKFYAP0MJ85xKlDSE7w8DCXxb0nkllysty74pFkWlvHUlWN-D4zI/s320/2015001_normal.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMduhi3-Tu1wIwoa1qBw7FobHrhvlIieHEeucW0pcA2iYTam7e2F6S5wnWjCGcsiEb-ISn5H3A_qbMqxeywm7_vcxdKuSAZkx31NkZFKGqBtxqbvmdrni3r2jqLrNLywF7NK-XbNzyf8F6/s1600/abe.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461692882765065106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMduhi3-Tu1wIwoa1qBw7FobHrhvlIieHEeucW0pcA2iYTam7e2F6S5wnWjCGcsiEb-ISn5H3A_qbMqxeywm7_vcxdKuSAZkx31NkZFKGqBtxqbvmdrni3r2jqLrNLywF7NK-XbNzyf8F6/s320/abe.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvlQqa5kZlFiUV3tU8M5buBR8u4G67rSbReKQm9vs0slQPafjC8FKnncuIF2f6q6N5k-adtzqwSyG7uL75I7zTXFMonEFrpMLwZsb7INbU7_-DBKGj5glUVoW4w3m14e7cUO1a9naFiw4/s1600/a55a5fcd683085b9ce1e4391ed2b5347_normal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461692878169169090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvlQqa5kZlFiUV3tU8M5buBR8u4G67rSbReKQm9vs0slQPafjC8FKnncuIF2f6q6N5k-adtzqwSyG7uL75I7zTXFMonEFrpMLwZsb7INbU7_-DBKGj5glUVoW4w3m14e7cUO1a9naFiw4/s320/a55a5fcd683085b9ce1e4391ed2b5347_normal.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUjWQpUGHbh96Ghykpry6dtCKQ2RDCQjR24LB2DgvZ7Iace6bbMehlLLeY5q7UOTibD2yoDdjol-tMFcMAkjOjud7AjqZgUQrTFLqEpWxuu61udms1Yyt1VgFrJAY5eFgZNPj_qMWT2gw/s1600/01AwcA9hD98-oAAAABAAAAAAAAAAA__normal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 95px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461692325346132002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUjWQpUGHbh96Ghykpry6dtCKQ2RDCQjR24LB2DgvZ7Iace6bbMehlLLeY5q7UOTibD2yoDdjol-tMFcMAkjOjud7AjqZgUQrTFLqEpWxuu61udms1Yyt1VgFrJAY5eFgZNPj_qMWT2gw/s320/01AwcA9hD98-oAAAABAAAAAAAAAAA__normal.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-43421528593269999582010-04-15T19:48:00.000-07:002010-04-15T19:58:22.725-07:00Missouri in Thirty: Day #3<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">It'll All Work Out- Tom Petty</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">so today's post, is just a song. it's a classic i listened to before i moved here, on my way to moving here, and of course while i've been here. i'm sure i'll listen to it on the ride home too.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Tom Petty is so, so wise. :)</span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">all i could find is this cheesy youtube video to play the song. :/</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span> </p><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_ftfh1z2Xc">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_ftfh1z2Xc</a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-43588057002808626722010-04-14T16:35:00.000-07:002010-04-14T17:41:48.768-07:00Missouri in Thirty: Day #2<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">Day #2: <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Freudenberger</span> Dorms</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">these dorms were my first official place of residence upon my arrival in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">missouri</span>. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">the first day was of course memorable:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">huuuge</span> ice storm had just hit in Springfield, Missouri- and it was certainly an interesting welcome into the state. most of the trees were split in half; ice weighing heavily on their branches. people were scrambling to fill up with gas like the end of the world was coming, school was shut down for a week. i had just been dropped off, suitcase in hand, by my sort-of, sort-of-not, 'boyfriend' at the time (who interestingly enough, was the reason that i came to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">missouri</span>). </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i checked into the front counter, got my door and mail key, and wheeled the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">ol</span> suitcase past the ping pong table, past the workout room, past the community kitchen, turned a corner to the right, past a stairwell- until i came to a large wooden door that read, "Welcome, Brittany!"</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">moving in the middle of the semester was already terrifying. but once i stood, solitary, in the middle of a gigantic room with two beds and apparently no other roommate- i was strikingly terrified. i was alone. completely, 2,000 miles-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">ly</span> away alone. the only other soul, aside the one who had just drove away, that i knew was in the same city but a different school. it took knocking on random doors, and answering random knocks on my door for a few weeks before i could finally say those girls were my friends.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">and then, came college dorm life:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">horrifying</span> dorm food that i learned to love. nail polish, hairspray, police costumes, quarters, a movie to borrow, a friend to go to the store with, comfort even if there wasn't any real advice to be given- it was all just two door knocks away. i heard the words, "don't knock! just come in," all the time, which i wasn't used to. trying desperately to get just...one...free...starburst...free from the machine! the cold wind that literally squeezed the life right out of me on the way to class. celebrating all our birthdays on the same day. walking around downtown with someone new. driving 'home' and questioning everything. staying up til 5 A.M. with everyone, watching Jared <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Leto</span> movies. my minimum of eight messages a day to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">keely</span> when we would talk about each and every aspect of all things. studying all night instead of all semester. our dorm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">janitor</span> cleaning the bathroom everyday, BLARING "Enter Sandman". going to my first hockey game. wondering what it would be like to live in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Springfield</span> forever. watching movies on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">brenna</span> and brandy's floor because that was the only place to lay. :) slaving over a paper, hours before it's due. runs/walks and screaming profanities at the sky with Jessica. laying on my bed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every night</span>, on the phone, my cheeks and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">stomach</span> crippling from laughter. laying on the same bed, on the same phone, holding my breath so that everything wouldn't hurt so bad.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">the possibility of something new! starting over! the availability of something new. new faces. the most amazing salads ever consumed. driving around <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Springfield</span>, on gangsta nights. turning up the a/c, wearing scarves and drinking apple cider, and watching a movie with a sweet person. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">big, nasty, scary thunderstorms! the tornado that we hid from that one, terrifying night. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">learning to confront things, head-on. baby steps. watching my old life fade inside of myself. shaking off things that hurt, and embracing things that didn't. protecting what i had left. conserving my energy for things worth fighting for.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">sleepovers with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">keely</span> in my dorm. her first night of freedom! our trips to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">entertainmart</span>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">parking tickets.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">searching endlessly for my "access card" so i could get into the damn bathroom to pee.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">just in general, dining out with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">keely</span>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">learning what Thursday nights were apparently for.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">late night Domino's or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Chinese</span> food binges.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">and pictures that can, hopefully, do these types of things justice:<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460155559268289682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizL1rZcbohPK_rMP_bSMD4xgXKwDj23sXmdwojN-M7Vub7WX-qGfKyTcKXFfxYFiJkDQWwi3-MZxWeTq_gGjSsJG4TQNjAjy4pSkLutGbEN2Xz77QCBs2QK6sT3YqLk2yQUARvlcbRRtOG/s320/as.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460155524920728738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdz0coFQCst1FtniBor-X5qsFsCNgiSnjNgHmOTdct6gmzHzKeyBWhBiZWY9RZhiunMB2l_v3MKIWciYanHFUWg7mDh4tf2MfOaTTmVtLgTDs8kiVPuMfB9H-uZQYEh5e7d91_ehGqGYX/s320/aaaaaa.jpg" /></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460155486957797794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwS5sWA5KMTEN6NinjVEN68MihlZGWib1c7bOcGUYSrishY12RwcIKJxUi0jufXGnLexHj_VAdRqaka8EVzem0DWtpIgSJ7XYC4rB-MOZccpR4HIL7U8UnE0RKuDNaML1Ax4CVwzFKe36/s320/aaa.jpg" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460155445010992162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4f7KHgsG9FMEt-27U4VwUpZdzhrcS6lwZ0Asn-563Gl8M_j4II10XtG0GbovQIsfPqBWoMPSGoOefEWSfXfHT5q7fnupc7KpLtMIx12YGOWtnUm7cH3mzNScg9xKToye_lnaCl1C3wZU/s320/aa.jpg" /><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151483662141490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhvdfgwvdQ4Eqip7fLNCOHNq-wObMNuycoSG58d9qkwhiaoIhFuZWRJSHhqYfL5IoI1AclGZArArAJ-_yLiDiU-IhH4rTDD3r_wP2cdLTV5zoNEBCa00r7Bii6UXgvsWdHxM5lcSBzBLd/s320/n30505866_30594849_2923.jpg" /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">and of course, Grandma Pants.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151446726898786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivrkVRm6kHCTkwclEMmlr6DU4-5rOdVwOPbVY8vBKRn9-HapXgUZr4ZKk7bOQU3AzYfVJgBaxu-29G8J_vIL99jwwOfnv-g12NggHB2NTQ8yLpWx6tjpE0OzmMsCodx96i_dCZ7cAZLld/s320/n30505866_30594842_8857.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151379639789314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKFugOzq1h_CTTI6WpI21jJK27ltiCqj1dqHwcxYDuDKt2MeTFi-uMoDvy0uWL7QiRupNiM4kfuiQOkdeh67JxBiO5I593FOEM8a2obNTD53qG7Nw6cVU9ky4fWEvhf6Yt8EZYG4tsIKR/s320/n30505866_30587235_3573.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151344430133218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNK-qVh6NFqf_BOutOd-abAMfJwJyEmgcqNDUnjIEez4JnfoMDt09Ioc8qa25PKiOTZNtWw6Qy4k9JVRKQjMIg80S5qL1O3JiZU-n-YL7b5q3d6LKVHjG__2GjdOaKQWpirVaHefR3G5z/s320/n30505866_30587232_2641.jpg" /></span><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151305561422706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFc84Lis4hyM0viDbnk0Fp3aPr-OJI2OSHZPeeO7W2xXdHkApCk6EwVmFjRz8FgqA74YyV2hz0FnR9PvUfuxhPlEXtArn-N6Z5fw5-Pc14hF2deUbVUC6Ox60UCwHyad_-GzbNeuqiDyG/s320/n30505866_30587230_2006.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151244204292370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgub-teIxfd8KmqTbvuJdUjr6jDgczCuheyKSxHYGXWmWBiib6T6BcsfpSMknhN3Vu6Qb23zK3zicvrhcuOpxJrn7aEub-kcPS9i0VOKnoV6do4teJc3boepOeCaQMVUOqz-WE4e24gTzgu/s320/l_a84ab7667902e60044807e3190b67a8e.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151152644754882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrb0WvAKqFq74XfsVz04Hkud4AtThsPQiQUbWFUkpcm9XrQipC_KKm6A2NAH1uQALHEA5ReM0r6D-LobwC1hL3fy0AjBpleI_mxg7XmqaBH2uN8hgKormPo2iDPsHWlI33Y1cXGFJBqbu/s320/l_381278c213c883d5fdaa8d61c4767fce.jpg" /></span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460151100477830498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVwyUd_TG69-e8UKC1Jsq68CasK-UDM1vxDtMhFDa6L9PqUgzcV7f6yUR421BFbpkwdJ59kxlFiBhDzS1m6Jm_9Zu0lKCRQ9519XYhc10D1KYmg37XqnGz7qvA9_Zs4cqZxlL3xSj4J5n/s320/l_724cda88017efecb8cf30048621e504d.jpg" /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i asked for the dorm life. and i certainly got it.</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-89911072462009652182010-04-13T13:08:00.000-07:002010-04-13T15:47:15.667-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"><strong>Missouri in Thirty.<br /></strong></span><div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">so, i have given myself an assignment. i suppose every wannabe writer needs an assignment, or a deadline. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">i have a little over a month left in Missouri. while an insane amount of excitement wells within me when i think about getting to hold and see my nephew everyday, and when i think of summer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">BBQ's</span> with my family that are awaiting me this summer and further- there is a lot of heartbreak that comes along with the thought of leaving this <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">midwest</span> land.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Missouri has always been constant for me- the place i always could come back to. the place that was always waiting for me, and the exact place where i needed to be.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">realizing that, however, has not always been easy. the past three & a half years have been a joy, and an intense struggle. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> been boundlessly happy, and undoubtedly crushed. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">so much of my life has taken place here. i owe so much to these trees, these people, these shops, these afternoons, these nights, these pets, these songs, these thoughts- every square inch of these exclusive moments have been exactly what i needed.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">so, as i said before, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> given myself an assignment. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> famous for procrastination, and ideas bigger than my head can hold. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">but! for the next thirty days, i will devote thirty blogs to thirty "things" that have made Missouri, well, Missouri to me.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> spent a week making a list of these things, and they will be anything from drinks, to people, to places, to a singular night, songs, a solitary memory, items, and what have you.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">i already miss this place. i know that Oregon is my home, but for a short while- Missouri took me in, and it will always consume a large portion of my heart. i simply must pay homage to the place that changed everything.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> decided, i might as well begin with the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">item </span>that will probably be the driving force behind this whole thing, and the reason i will be able to accomplish this among everything else:</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">Day #1: Coffee.<br /><br /></span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 283px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459728208528173778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-UZz_rmrA-JVxQDxgZOj2hMaexR6DOX6E0SFVvvEmu-zG7VEoh00zQsEAGJ0Jed1UJf7tCFqArhIdV8txoLOEpImNqyxd8txxogTO-kOrcbVmnCWQmf3YxpqKrLYG-E0_DpB0OwIsfozt/s320/623301687_871fb48457.jpg" /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">my first experience with Coffee was when i was in 1st grade, and my friend's mom offered me a cup. "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">ewww</span> no way," i responded. the thick, black sludge seemed like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">poison</span> to my small self, who indulged in Capri Suns only. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">in the words of my brother, "Who can seriously survive college without coffee?"</span> </div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i had, maybe, one or two cups of coffee while going to Missouri State in Springfield. it wasn't until i moved to Columbia and Keely's mom bought us a coffee maker that i really made use of this <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">medievally</span> powerful item. of course it started with sugary Caramel <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">latte's</span>, but cup after cup, the simple combo of the black liquid with a glimmer of creamer soon became my first and foremost priority in the early A.M. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i can first thank my friend Laura <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">McComas</span> for first <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">inviting</span> me to meet her at a coffee shop downtown that soon became a type of ritual. i can also thank my good friend, Jenni Rea, for always having a full pot made each and every time i visited her house on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pimlico</span> street. thanks also goes out to best friend and roommate, Keely Swift, who informed me about fair-trade coffee that i now make a priority to buy to make at home.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">but most of all, i owe the utmost appreciation to the one, the only, Coffee.<br /><br />so here's to you, Coffee. here's to the pick-ups and the let me downs. here's to the many 10<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">AM's</span> that we saw together, and the 3<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">AM's</span> that we fought past. the awkward conversations that we sipped through together, and the lectures that we gulped our way through. here's to you always keeping my winter hands warm, and here's to you turning my bad mood into a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">overly</span> optimistic one. the sound of the first drops hitting the pot, the smell once it crept back to my room to let me know you were ready, and the excitement within my nerves as i pour you into a mug. the two or three cups of you that i drank through every workday, the sheer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">disappointment</span> on class days when i forgot about you and left you waiting patiently for me in my car's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">cup holder</span>. the hours upon hours we spent cramming for that Biology final together. you're near impossible to sneak into a movie theatre, but so worth the chance of being caught. here's to your invigorating smell that surrounds the majority of the downtown Columbia area. your flavor, your steam, your beans and your grounds. here's to your way of keeping me from fearing the morning when my paper was due. the procrastination. the indulgence. the silly headaches that come from dependence. you always were a favorite to sit and watch the rain with. the way that you were always the perfect amount of comfort on an ugly day, and how often you listened to me complain about the many static things in life. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">here's to you, dear liquid- my counselor, my encourager, my dear friend in times of trouble.<br />my lovely little coffee.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">:)</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459733273574505554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEL9e8pohJq4CYoUdqWbe9X9YiLw9G91SFnYGXWe2W-aZnlBK0hLxSHbP7K_oesr32w3kWPCsepRw024KJBSJrikw9NBDcJNF8BvGwqdSaXYcAfMJHGT-djqeon6f41c3mnxQNt1A-ojgL/s320/cofffff.bmp" /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-4405216865595429612010-02-16T11:36:00.000-08:002010-02-16T11:37:39.811-08:00"if you see her, say hello."<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">if you see her, say hello<br />-bob dylan<br /><br />my favorite Bob Dylan song. :)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">if you see her say hello.<br />she might be in Tangier.<br /><br />she left here last early spring,<br />is livin' there, i hear.<br /><br />say for me that i'm alright,<br />though things get kind of slow.<br /><br />she might think i have forgotten her,<br />but tell her it isn't so.<br /><br />we had a falling out,<br />like lovers often will.<br /><br />and to think of she left that night,<br />it still brings me a chill.<br /><br />and though our speration,<br />it pierced me to the heart,<br />she still lives inside of me,<br />we've never been apart.<br /><br />if you get close to her,<br />kiss her once for me.<br /><br />i always had respected her,<br />in doing what she did in gettin' free.<br /><br />oh, whatever makes her happy,<br />i wont stand in the way.<br /><br />though the bitter taste still lingers on,<br />from that night i tried to make her stay.<br /><br />i see a lot people,<br />as i make the rounds.<br />and i hear her name here & there,<br />as i go from town to town.<br /><br />and i've never gotten used to it,<br />ive just learned to turn it off.<br /><br />either way, im too sensitive;<br />or else im gettin' soft.<br /><br />sundown, yellow moon, i replay the past.<br /><br />i know every scene by heart,<br />they all went by so fast.<br /><br />if she's passin back this way,<br />i'm not that hard to find.<br /><br />tell her she can look me up,<br />if she's got the time. </span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-82160032732037190332009-11-30T18:40:00.001-08:002009-11-30T18:41:17.449-08:00self inflict.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">so, i had to write a 750 (or less) word piece for my non-fiction class. this is what i came up with!
<br />:)
<br />
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name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1107304683 0 0 159 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 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mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><b style="">Self-Infliction<o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I’m fifteen. My insides are slopped out upon the ivory carpet. The tip of the knife is jagged, the blood weeps from its tip. <i style="">I’ll be thinner now.</i> My lips begin to blister, still hot from the delicate flame emitted from the lighter that caressed their surface moments before. <span style=""> </span>In between my tightly fused fingers are strands of hair, each drenched in an inherent and repulsive shade of bleak auburn. <i style="">I’ll remember that brittle is better. </i>My feet are bound by barbed wire, and the skin draped over my throat itches underneath harsh rope that holds it in place. <i style="">I’ll stand straighter.</i> My tongue is coarse and stale, and my taste buds are deadened from the syrupy poison that writhed its way down my throat and then deeper. <i style="">I’ll long for the taste.</i> Bruises paint my cheekbones, and the last didn’t hurt as much as was intended. Pins tightly pierce areas under construction- reminding me not to forget that fact. One of my pinky fingers are snapped back, dangling loosely from the once attached neighbor bone. <i style="">My fingers will feel smaller.</i> The skin veiling the bones of my hand are sparse, and the wounds are left open to scab. My teeth are saturated in bitter scarlet, and my eyelids are stapled open- so I can remember not to forget. The remaining blood is draining, and my body stops quivering as the ugly leaves me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The scars of these self inflicted wounds would be better remembered if they could be seen. The slick feeling and the glimmering photo of who I longed to be on the cover of a magazine always lured me from the inside. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I’m fifteen. I touch the slick cover of the newest magazine. One finger feverishly flips through page after page of ads and glittering smiles, and the other clenches scissors. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tear. First is the brittle tear as the fibers of the paper split and my fingers feel the heat.
<br />Snip. The scissors acutely outline the pair of jeans I desired to conceal my pale legs.
<br /><i style="">A sharp poke in my side.</i>
<br />
<br />Tear, Snip. This body will remind me not to skip running tomorrow. <i style="">Reach in and string out my gushy stuffing.</i>
<br />Tear, Snip. A purse she has, a belt that squeezes my ribs and the mirror will reflect someone thinner. <i style="">Tug hard on my scalp.</i>
<br />Tear, Snip. The pages are smooth against my coarse fingerprints, and their fragrant surface flushes away marks of fingerprints once imprinted on my skin. <i style="">Salty clumps rise in my throat.
<br /></i>Tear, Snip. Eyeliner to shape these ugly eyes, my posture will be held that high in every photo, my cheekbones will be delicate. <i style="">Teeth carve my skin.</i>
<br />Tear, Snip. That eyebrow arch, that stomach in exactly that shape, and curly hair pinned up. <i style="">Touch blade to burnt skin and slice apart the veins.</i>
<br />Tear, Snip. Need to have that scarf, need to tie it this way, and need to match it with those earrings<i style="">.</i> <i style="">Screams muffled by cotton.
<br /></i>Tear, Snip. The dark color of her skin, the rich moisture of her lips, the length of her lashes. <i style="">Bits of wire pierce through my eyelids.</i> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">These scraps of desire lay sprawled next to my ankles. Pull, Press, and Zip. The tape comes from the dispenser, attaches itself to the back of each of them, and smothers the lavender of my bedroom walls. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">My imprisoned eyes allow no escape for the ferocity originally born inside. My lips desire their shape from birth. My hair knows not of its origin, and longs for satisfaction. My posture knows its importance. My tongue knows the sugary taste of a lie, and loathes the bitter taste of a truth. My cheekbones beg for me to love them and put down my fist. My fingers are brittle from clenching, but still recall the dreamy feeling of the air that once passed through them. My skin scrambles to be bound, to hold on, to endure. Mapped between the lines of my hands are nature’s guidance, escape routes, and original design- all in foreign thought now. My teeth long for just one stain and my eyes are consumed in fog. My blood is replaced by thin, slick paper. My ears hear only the sound of fibers being torn, and veins fusing together as a horrific tune rings in my ears. The tape sticks to every hair left on my body.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">All that remains are strands of foundation, vowing to protect those still intact. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<br />Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-60951795380586783072009-11-24T10:56:00.000-08:002009-11-24T11:00:47.196-08:00adventures of the travelling ham.<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;">we read this story in our creative fiction class, as a part of our "micro-fiction" section. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;">needless to say, i loved it!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;">oh, the magic of the the last line.<br />:)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>"The New Year"<br /><em>By Pamela Painter<br /></em></strong><br />"It's late Christmas Eve at Spinelli's when Dominic presents us, the waitstaff, with his dumb idea of a bonus- Italian hams in casings so tight they shimmer like Gilda's gold lame stockings.<br /><br />At home, Gilda's waiting up for me with a surprise of her own: my stuff from the last three months is sitting on the stoop. Arms crossed, scarlet nails tapping the satin sleeves of her robe, she says she's heard about Fiona.<br /><br />I balance the ham on my hip and pack my things- CD's, weights, a vintage Polaroid- into garbage bags she's provided free of charge. Then I let it all drop and offer up the ham in both hands, cradling it as if it might have been our child. She doesn't want any explanations- or the ham.<br /><br />Fiona belongs to Dominic, and we are a short sad story of one night's restaurant despair. But the story's out and for sure I don't want Dominic coming after my ham.<br /><br />Under Gilda's unforgiving eye, I sling my garbage bags into the trunk of the car and head west. The ham glistens beside me in the passenger's seat. Somewhere in Indiana I strap it into a seat belt.<br /><br />I stop to call, but Gilda hangs up every time. So I send her pictures of my trip instead: The Ham under the silver arch of St. Louis; The Ham at the Grand Canyon; The Ham in Las Vegas.<br /><br />I'm taking a picture of The Ham in the Pacific when a big wave washes it out to sea. I send the picture anyway: The Ham in the Pacific Undertow.<br /><br />In this picture, you can't tell which of us is missing."</span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-67440581774897938382009-10-19T22:06:00.000-07:002009-10-19T22:30:10.201-07:00some outdoorsy shots from the past few days.<span style="font-family:verdana;">i studied outside a bit...</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltTTJBXaU5y3u4ExiQ9RAVzr0iQqG2OdOO0hAEExZpyWVLAvIr6CAKsTP2cxFNoIT2aZYSw_MXIBoSW9P8DTSKn8ynrJBasD9qfxBLev8W9-QinIelDE-caxHv4DqWU0yL8NeoW1LlkJw/s1600-h/Fall+09s+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394549139885630818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltTTJBXaU5y3u4ExiQ9RAVzr0iQqG2OdOO0hAEExZpyWVLAvIr6CAKsTP2cxFNoIT2aZYSw_MXIBoSW9P8DTSKn8ynrJBasD9qfxBLev8W9-QinIelDE-caxHv4DqWU0yL8NeoW1LlkJw/s320/Fall+09s+013.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">this itty bitty stopped by for a few seconds to chill, then took off.</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKO68V-_2L75YVpi5ORcRA20IU4UXByiZl3PFdmwY9IvAdN-UFTtaljwlpc68BfDUn-y13kDCy2LzLKDF8AYOJjWtrJDC2pDrrqjdI0drePGXc_jRqUOEGPnrcSzBQA6OpKD_7BguR0oM/s1600-h/Fall+09s+005edit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548396183343938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKO68V-_2L75YVpi5ORcRA20IU4UXByiZl3PFdmwY9IvAdN-UFTtaljwlpc68BfDUn-y13kDCy2LzLKDF8AYOJjWtrJDC2pDrrqjdI0drePGXc_jRqUOEGPnrcSzBQA6OpKD_7BguR0oM/s320/Fall+09s+005edit.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;">me & some awesome friends went on an amazing hike...</span><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofQSwsEaFF_Rmg6kNceskp3K3XpgWMrsh-Y9Mh00__yBYHOjT6pwbx3LXnOlDyrXmywK8k2B6mWHiuUT7_ZhlD75svyVDItPEOBmLf5T1n_zlODlet531K4LxSWJtmwpaMy3UTCNSFOWQ/s1600-h/Fall+09+Adventures+051edit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394547191670437698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofQSwsEaFF_Rmg6kNceskp3K3XpgWMrsh-Y9Mh00__yBYHOjT6pwbx3LXnOlDyrXmywK8k2B6mWHiuUT7_ZhlD75svyVDItPEOBmLf5T1n_zlODlet531K4LxSWJtmwpaMy3UTCNSFOWQ/s320/Fall+09+Adventures+051edit.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:Arial;">and we saw lots of pretty-ness along the way.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">:]</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89QCSSN8A5tja936YZvgNo9BZ-8ABxvhpyinv3idm6Pc2XrgOZf53YxGq9KTFuWua03X4UoI2XwqaIy5aRRz0-jz36Tf6PXhgy7I_yUHyoljVyhd8-zWz20risM2Sgp7SXsF8ykGxG430/s1600-h/Fall+09+Adventures+039edit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394545784787818370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89QCSSN8A5tja936YZvgNo9BZ-8ABxvhpyinv3idm6Pc2XrgOZf53YxGq9KTFuWua03X4UoI2XwqaIy5aRRz0-jz36Tf6PXhgy7I_yUHyoljVyhd8-zWz20risM2Sgp7SXsF8ykGxG430/s320/Fall+09+Adventures+039edit.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-57736790284242644172009-08-31T15:34:00.000-07:002009-08-31T15:51:41.433-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">if i ever have children, i may name a girl autumn. THAT much love resides in my heart for such an amazing season. everything feels quiet, everything feels calm. i love being slightly cold. not winterly cold, but autumnly cold. the first day of wearing socks & closed-toed shoes to school makes my heart as light as a leaf. autumn is a nice fellow/lady. they let me wear scarves everyday without being annoying hot. they make anything hazelnut or carmel taste even more wonderful. im not joking when i say i would glady wed autumn, in the autumn. i wasn’t born tan, i can hardly even tan when i try- and in autumn, i am glad to be pale. im as cliche as they come when autumn comes around. im cozy. if i didn’t look like such a nut in a turtleneck, i’d wear them everyday. school buses, sidewalks, books, tights, clickity-clack shoes, maroon, gold, dirt, whip cream, fireplaces, the smell of autumn rain, a breeze, a tree shedding its scars from the year, pumpkins, You’ve Got Mail…these things & more enhance every autumn. my soul would glady be consumed with autumn throughout all eternity, & i will thank God daily for his brilliance and love that resides in this season that come tomorrow, will only be twenty-one days away.</span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354218971198320523.post-59846471483957777162009-08-27T21:50:00.000-07:002009-08-27T21:52:00.068-07:00um, well.<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">well, this will be a short one tonight.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">i have nothing quite brilliant to say...but the basic fact of life is...here i am at college, my last year as an undergrad student.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">4 days before i left to come back to Missouri, something happened. it's making my life really really interesting. and lovely.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">okay g*night!</span>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06308271344117435802noreply@blogger.com0