<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751</id><updated>2011-11-05T18:34:32.188-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Purple Rain</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6814361559860577902</id><published>2010-06-14T14:55:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T15:54:54.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh yes this is the life</title><content type='html'>Update time for those seven people who read my blog- one of which most likely includes my amazing boyfriend- (update number one)!! More on that if you wish in person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I am happily and trying to be unapologetically unemployed. My two-ish years as a server have been ones of learning so much about myself and I have immense respect for those who are in that business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have all the time in the world to bum around. At least for another four weeks until I visit my beautiful cousin in Dallas and a friend in South Carolina. Myrtle Beach is a possibility and more bumming around. How can I handle all this free time? Drinking a myriad of beverages and popping through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my reading list so far: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lectures to my Students - Charles H. Spurgeon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Face on Your Plate- Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The New Birth Order Book- Dr. Kevin Leman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;They Speak with Other Tongues- John L. Sherrill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Art of Friendship: 70 Simple Rules for Making Meaningful Connections- Roger Horchow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Their Eyes Were Watching God- Zora Neale Hurston&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any other suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6814361559860577902?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6814361559860577902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6814361559860577902' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6814361559860577902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6814361559860577902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2010/06/oh-yes-this-is-life.html' title='Oh yes this is the life'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6593810581433915022</id><published>2010-05-18T08:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T09:01:52.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S.</title><content type='html'>I wrote this about a year ago, and it's a little cheezy, but fits the frame of life I'm in at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To (fill in the blank)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always there-&lt;br /&gt;hanging fragile&lt;br /&gt;a nagging possibility&lt;br /&gt;discontentment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or merely&lt;br /&gt;a desire, longing to &lt;br /&gt;'live deliberately'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have many fears- though&lt;br /&gt;a path 'less traveled' &lt;br /&gt;stands waiting.  I close my&lt;br /&gt;eyes not to settle for dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but&lt;br /&gt;grabbing hold&lt;br /&gt;to what- I know not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and His majesty and I&lt;br /&gt;jump&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6593810581433915022?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6593810581433915022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6593810581433915022' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6593810581433915022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6593810581433915022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2010/05/ps.html' title='P.S.'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-2807923502342576481</id><published>2009-12-04T14:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T15:02:59.857-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant-ish</title><content type='html'>I meant to write about this when it happened (about 2 months ago) but of course I didn't.  I was sitting in a crowded Ivy Tech waiting area, in line to see an advisor.  I had been there a  good hour and a half.  This guy that I was sure came in 20 minutes after me got called in.  Annoyed, I  was about to go to the counter to make sure I hadn't been skipped.  This young black girl, who was also waiting, started singing 'Amazing Grace.'  She went through the song in this slow strong voice, which wasn't the most beautiful, but everyone just kinda froze and a stillness settled on the room.  I only heard her, but helped put everything into perspective.  Things like that probably happen in places like N.Y, but people don't just start singing a song about 'a wretch like me' in front of strangers in Indianapolis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biology teacher somehow got talking about his 25 year old son, who is basically a beach bum in Australia.  I guess he has a few odd jobs, but 'his biggest decision of the day is decide what beach to go to'.  A few of my classmates relayed their incredulousness, some saying it would be cool.  The teacher said one day he's going to have to grow up and get a secure job.  That kind of talk saddens me.  Sure, a 'secure' job would be fine if it's something you enjoy.  But I'm trying to find the balance in my own mind in being a part of the rat race, and separating from that mind set.  A 'bum' isn't a good lifestyle if you're lazy.  A fancy office job isn't good if money and image are in first place.   I also don't want to rain on a dedicated family man, who has, in part, become apart of working America.  I don't know where I'm going with this, but I was just feel directly adverse to what is expected, to what 'growing up' means.  It seems to mean putting on a suit, having a 5 day work week, paying bills, mortgages, depending on caffeine to propel you through 6AM and 3PM.  And why does 'mortgage' have a 't' in it?!?!?!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-2807923502342576481?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/2807923502342576481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=2807923502342576481' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2807923502342576481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2807923502342576481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-meant-to-write-about-this-when-it.html' title='Rant-ish'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6302408124703916238</id><published>2009-09-30T23:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T23:36:09.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear God</title><content type='html'>Thank you for&lt;br /&gt;my family, the dignity of hard work, music, strong wine, thoughts in late night, possibility, NPR, pumpkin bread, the opportunity to learn, democracy, Neo, farmers, crisp breezes, strong tea, cell phones to call far away friends, second helpings, eternity with you, pretty things, contentment, the world, the oceans, the sky, the moon, the smallness of me, a strong mind, second chances, third chances, grace, being there, contemplation, places with no building in sight, imagination, emotion, fourth chances, order, tears, your goodness your love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6302408124703916238?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6302408124703916238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6302408124703916238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6302408124703916238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6302408124703916238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/09/dear-god.html' title='Dear God'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-7019213390512666950</id><published>2009-09-25T09:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T09:59:32.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was a bit of an airhead yesterday.  Couldn't spell my name the first time in class, forgot where broad ripple was on meridian, took off from work with my manager's keys still in my apron pocket... I guess that's all.  Nothing catastrophic.   I haven't left the house yet today except to get caught in the rain while walking the dog.&lt;br /&gt;NPR had this story about a girl from Indonesia who was basically held as a slave for a wealthy family in CA for 7 seven years.    She had come to the US to work and send the money back home to her family.  However, there was no contract and the CA family didn't pay her the $50 a month they had originally promised her.  She was only allowed to leave the house to get the mail.  She was told that this was her destiny and that she would only be hurt/raped/killed if she did leave.  A boy who frequently passed her on his bicycle when she got the mail saw 'the pain on her face' and eventually helped her to freedom.  He gave her the number for an organization called CAST LA and now, after five years, she is finally without fear of this family taking her. I know she is just one of millions.  'In His name all oppression shall cease' and we must do something!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-7019213390512666950?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/7019213390512666950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=7019213390512666950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/7019213390512666950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/7019213390512666950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-was-bit-of-airhead-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-9061375112967514087</id><published>2009-09-20T15:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T15:46:31.559-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace</title><content type='html'>Why do I choose the day my grandpa died to update this sad excuse for a blog?  I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;It's just the first time I've watched someone take their last breath. I don't feel much of anything right now, except the scene keeps playing over and over in my mind.  I'm glad to have been able to be there with my aunt, uncle and my dad.   &lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I can write more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-9061375112967514087?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/9061375112967514087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=9061375112967514087' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/9061375112967514087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/9061375112967514087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/09/peace.html' title='Peace'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3714636022487347056</id><published>2009-05-24T00:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T00:53:43.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking about the future</title><content type='html'>As sure as crickets in a summer's night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sure as girls leaning in for a picture.&lt;br /&gt;As sure as a dusty farmer's truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sure as sorrow in the world&lt;br /&gt;As sure as lines on a grandpa's face As sure as third graders joy at terms end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sure as greasy dishes evaporating all bubbles &lt;br /&gt;As sure as dirty laundry piles grow&lt;br /&gt;As sure as the continual need for shopping outlets and new suburbs &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with two maples evenly spaced, crisp windowpane and a garage door that closes every night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want my garage door to close every night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3714636022487347056?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3714636022487347056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3714636022487347056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3714636022487347056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3714636022487347056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/05/thinking-about-future.html' title='Thinking about the future'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3675689637834420895</id><published>2009-05-18T00:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T00:10:29.448-04:00</updated><title type='text'>me n sis</title><content type='html'>My sister just got home from visiting her boy toy and I'm going to enjoy watching a gilmore girl with her... yes the nerd girly show.  It has been a favorite.  We have been passing ships in the darkest night recently.  I think I need to be more intentional about relationships, especially people that will always be there.  Like family.  But the odd part is, I tend to make more effort on the people far away and not close ones.  Also,  anyone who reads these words:  you should blog! All my link-age has been stagnate.  :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3675689637834420895?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3675689637834420895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3675689637834420895' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3675689637834420895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3675689637834420895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/05/me-n-sis.html' title='me n sis'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3845953690574248055</id><published>2009-05-17T00:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T01:15:54.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'>keep a stride</title><content type='html'>The view from where I'm sitting is quite normal and familiar, just my bedroom.  I finished a glass of wine- with the goodwill sticker still on the end of it.  The window's closed because it is still too cool out.  Four books stacked.  I miss my books being up here- they've been stuck in storage because there's no room their mass.  My 'bean snake' has lost its microwave heat, but I don't feel like getting up to re-warm it.  It is soon to be 1 AM and I haven't written a thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about writing a lot more lately.  I've stopped journaling somewhere along the way, and feel kinda guilty for it.  It used to be an outlet and fun.  Now writing a sentence is like pulling teeth.  I'm starting to envy clacking keyboards, because those keyboard owners know what they want to say and have the words tripping off their fingers.  And I have clacking keyboard envy. &lt;br /&gt;Mine goes something like this:  click clack cl---ick     [pause]   clacka clack clic--k.   [pause]   [PAUSE]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do want to be a writer.  Or a Writer.  Seriously or not, I've always loved the world of books and would love to add my 347 pages to the endless shelf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3845953690574248055?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3845953690574248055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3845953690574248055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3845953690574248055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3845953690574248055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/05/yea.html' title='keep a stride'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-1412208873743709687</id><published>2009-05-14T13:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T13:45:51.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>misty delight-ish</title><content type='html'>I don't know how many times this quote has been repeated, but i like it a lot :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. &lt;br /&gt;~Henry David Thoreau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'.. to live deep...' yea.  That sounds good.  Wrote this about a year ago:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;swingin' in a hammock&lt;br /&gt;sun going down&lt;br /&gt;summer sound of crickets&lt;br /&gt;envelop me.&lt;br /&gt;hole in my jeans&lt;br /&gt;i ate a cupcake&lt;br /&gt;chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;pattern of slender branches&lt;br /&gt;against a silver lining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how're you doing, world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm past the stress and ache of the day&lt;br /&gt;faced a fear or two&lt;br /&gt;now it's just me- and sound&lt;br /&gt;and i'm fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how are you world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's everyone up to? because we're really all the same.  &lt;br /&gt;Insecure, lonely&lt;br /&gt;without the time (we think)&lt;br /&gt;to watch the lightening bugs&lt;br /&gt;come out of hiding.&lt;br /&gt;whose us in that plane? &lt;br /&gt;wonder where their going? &lt;br /&gt;I'm content here- in my swing&lt;br /&gt;with you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how are you doing world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just remember&lt;br /&gt;past everyone's differences&lt;br /&gt;we're all the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-1412208873743709687?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/1412208873743709687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=1412208873743709687' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1412208873743709687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1412208873743709687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/05/misty-delight-ish.html' title='misty delight-ish'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-1658350699270824878</id><published>2009-05-11T23:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T23:12:58.491-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't seem to get over several rude comments made tonight at work.  They weren't said to me, but from one coworker to another.  I feel like I've developed a thicker skin from some of the things that go on, but I very much wanted to hate this person.  I didn't say anything in the other persons defense... maybe I should have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yuck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-1658350699270824878?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/1658350699270824878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=1658350699270824878' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1658350699270824878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1658350699270824878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-cant-seem-to-get-over-several-rude.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-186065248347460928</id><published>2009-05-03T14:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T14:52:48.922-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sad</title><content type='html'>so, i'm typing this chicken peck style because i'm holding one depressed little puppy with my other arm.  neo has gotten increasingly sadder because i think he believes all his boys have left him.  my friend megan, who has hung out with me while everyone's been gone couldn't find him for 10 minutes when i was at work.   she said she found him under the desk in a corner.  and i can't tell him they will be back.   i'm not very involved in his dog world, so it's of no comfort that i'm here :) now that i really think about it,  it's an interesting thought about how animals are mute.  i wonder if they could talk, or communicate somehow, before the curse.  now my arm is falling asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-186065248347460928?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/186065248347460928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=186065248347460928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/186065248347460928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/186065248347460928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/05/sad.html' title='sad'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6433761980430358577</id><published>2009-04-21T22:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T23:09:56.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem I forgot how many</title><content type='html'>Knees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glint of a ray &lt;br /&gt;Shines on my peachy surface,&lt;br /&gt;Curvy almost&lt;br /&gt;Boney. &lt;br /&gt;Never lonely.&lt;br /&gt;One and Two&lt;br /&gt;I forgot&lt;br /&gt;in the shower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6433761980430358577?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6433761980430358577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6433761980430358577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6433761980430358577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6433761980430358577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/04/poem-i-forgot-how-many.html' title='Poem I forgot how many'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-8171732558678234149</id><published>2009-02-15T13:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T13:58:44.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wanting some eternal perspective</title><content type='html'>I pulled out an old Rich Mullins CD this morning; that man was close to the throne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, People say maybe things will get better &lt;br /&gt;People say maybe it won't be long &lt;br /&gt;And people say maybe you'll wake up tomorrow &lt;br /&gt;And it'll all be gone &lt;br /&gt;Well I only know that maybes just ain't enough &lt;br /&gt;When you need something to hold on &lt;br /&gt;There's only one thing that's clear &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life &lt;br /&gt;But that ain't nothing to be afraid of &lt;br /&gt;I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes &lt;br /&gt;That ain't no reason to fear &lt;br /&gt;I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life &lt;br /&gt;Reach out to Jesus, hold on tight &lt;br /&gt;He's been there before and He knows what it's like &lt;br /&gt;You'll find He's there&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-8171732558678234149?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/8171732558678234149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=8171732558678234149' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8171732558678234149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8171732558678234149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/02/wanting-some-eternal-perspective.html' title='wanting some eternal perspective'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6787536272324922811</id><published>2009-02-03T15:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T15:27:31.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1.</title><content type='html'>"And it's a great day to be alive, I know the sun's still shining when I close my eyes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an email, a friend of mine wrote, "i do know worrying now is disobedience, takes away my strength, and denies God´s ability to do something incredible."  I don't want life to be a flat road of struggle, of complacency, to do lists, of self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6787536272324922811?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6787536272324922811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6787536272324922811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6787536272324922811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6787536272324922811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2009/02/1.html' title='1.'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-620095179621733184</id><published>2008-12-26T16:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T16:57:31.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I SAY I SAY I SAY BOY</title><content type='html'>It's foggy out&lt;br /&gt;  and I'm wanting chili from wendys&lt;br /&gt;before &lt;br /&gt;working maybe while working...&lt;br /&gt;  Is it weird I think the fog is cool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to reminiscing in my new red notebook (half price was having a sale).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-620095179621733184?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/620095179621733184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=620095179621733184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/620095179621733184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/620095179621733184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-say-i-say-i-say-boy.html' title='I SAY I SAY I SAY BOY'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3768129272886534248</id><published>2008-12-23T16:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T16:05:22.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and another day, but not just another day</title><content type='html'>merry christmas three ish days early... I think the eve is my most favorite day.&lt;br /&gt;this is a poem I got  from a friend--- kind of a liturgy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is a time of whispers&lt;br /&gt;of rumors and echoes&lt;br /&gt;angels are unfurling their wings&lt;br /&gt;stars are dancing new steps&lt;br /&gt;and the universe is drawing breath&lt;br /&gt;for now we live in the waiting time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let the darkness gather&lt;br /&gt;let the seasons change&lt;br /&gt;let the nights draw in&lt;br /&gt;to their darkest moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the light is on it's way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so come now&lt;br /&gt;be a blessing to the frantic and worried world&lt;br /&gt;come now&lt;br /&gt;and find space&lt;br /&gt;silence&lt;br /&gt;stillness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for God is slipping into skin&lt;br /&gt;and restless in the womb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is advent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3768129272886534248?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3768129272886534248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3768129272886534248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3768129272886534248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3768129272886534248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas-three-ish-days-early.html' title='and another day, but not just another day'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-8381041761032273271</id><published>2008-10-27T15:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T16:18:10.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything.</title><content type='html'>Today is one of those days where stuff gets done on autopilot and  there's finally a harsh chill in the air that says.. yet again..  an Indiana winter is fast approaching.  There might be a little romance left in fall but I doubt it.   I don't think its a secret to many people that if I were honest, I'd be anywhere but here.  And by here I mean activity and location in life.   I find myself thinking ahead rather than what's going on at the moment.  Although the more I think about it, I'm realizing how utterly selfish that is.  Yet today is my little sister's eleventh birthday.   She is the kind of 'baby of the family' in the way of looking out for us older ones.  As well as sometimes being more mature and grow up.  But I remember when I turned eleven.  Not ten, not twelve.  Only remember the eleventh year for some reason.  The main thing I remember was feeling very 'the weight of all my years is upon me!' oh throw thy hand across thy brow for thee is of very olden years...!   &lt;br /&gt;And how quickly the years pass.   Right now I am on my sixth day of recovering from an eye infection.  Even though I can't put anything like a contact or eyeliner pencil near them, I still am so happy because I can do life things that involve more than a darkroom ambiance.  It was really difficult.  I took an average of 15 naps a day and listened to t.v shows.  But I am so thankful for eyesight now!   And being able to look at this computer screen full on without my eyes utterly failing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-8381041761032273271?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/8381041761032273271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=8381041761032273271' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8381041761032273271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8381041761032273271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/10/everything.html' title='Everything.'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-7137331660485275058</id><published>2008-10-18T11:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T12:04:35.909-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm engaged!</title><content type='html'>That felt funny to even write.  (j/k by the way)  Everyone is getting married... I guess it happens.  &lt;br /&gt;And I found a new library today.  42nd and college.  I'm very excited and am typing within its hallowed walls at this moment.  To be able to marry books...but no.  I'll hold out for flesh and blood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-7137331660485275058?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/7137331660485275058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=7137331660485275058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/7137331660485275058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/7137331660485275058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/10/yes-im-engaged-that-felt-funny-to-even.html' title='I&apos;m engaged!'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-1563862460307194720</id><published>2008-10-15T20:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T20:52:51.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blond moment</title><content type='html'>For example, I've never really had to deal with peep holes before.  But today, I was alone in the apartment and with the ensuing knock, I checked to see my visitor through this hole.  Immediately ducking, I crawled carefully to the other room.  Side note: if it was the boogie man, the door wasn't even locked.  After a time of silence, I again crawled to noiselessly turn the bolt and deadlock the door.  More knocks, and I hear.. "maintenance!" I then opened the door (with the deadlock still intact) and told him to come back another day. &lt;br /&gt;Shockingly, I learned the other person cannot see you peep at them. Which I guess is the point of the peep hole.  I even double checked on the outside, and couldn't see a thing. Sad I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-1563862460307194720?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/1563862460307194720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=1563862460307194720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1563862460307194720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1563862460307194720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/10/blond-moment.html' title='Blond moment'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-8276572361480295179</id><published>2008-10-08T20:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T20:56:13.781-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No more coffee...</title><content type='html'>at least from a certain corporation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While you're online, google "starbucks and leaving the tap running".  There's a lot that comes up.  Has anyone heard of this/knew of this before now??  I don't look behind their counters, but it's kind of surprising this would only now come to light.  I asked a friend who had worked at Starbucks if they really keep water running constantly, and she said they did, but it was recycled water.  I'm thinking about boycotting forever, plus the fact that they boast of being environmentally aware. Finding some smaller business to support would be great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-8276572361480295179?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/8276572361480295179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=8276572361480295179' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8276572361480295179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8276572361480295179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-more-coffee.html' title='No more coffee...'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-127344856028891645</id><published>2008-10-06T12:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T13:11:01.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ugg, it's a beautiful fall monday and I have a long procrastinated paper hanging over me.  Like the sword with the thread... what was that fable anyway?   Many questions need answers, like do I really want to write (as a major)?  If I like writing enough to do it seriously, then why isn't this paper a breeze?  Yes, this is truly a college student's broken record.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some updates:  I'm not going to Ireland.  I probably would have been able to with more time and planning, but after crunching numbers with red ink and tears, it's not going to work this time.  Hopefully it will still be there in a couple years.  &lt;br /&gt;I'll also have a new address for the next couple of months.  I'm moving out with 3 other girlies and it will probably be a bit tight (2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom) but FUN.  &lt;br /&gt;Anyone want some pumpkin bread?  I have the best recipe and I will make some for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-127344856028891645?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/127344856028891645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=127344856028891645' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/127344856028891645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/127344856028891645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/10/ugg-its-beautiful-fall-monday-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-5531884581377994673</id><published>2008-10-03T22:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T22:13:32.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a heart attack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got too many questions&lt;br /&gt;and not enough words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got too many books &lt;br /&gt;and not enough time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got too many ambitions&lt;br /&gt;and not enough spunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got too many places to go&lt;br /&gt;and not enough gas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday i will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got too many pieces to learn&lt;br /&gt;and not enough patience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got too many people to see&lt;br /&gt;miles to run&lt;br /&gt;recipes to try&lt;br /&gt;homeless to relieve&lt;br /&gt;gardens to create&lt;br /&gt;lists to finish&lt;br /&gt;lessons to learn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STOP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will.. someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't work tomorrow... going to a PU football game in Lafeyette!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-5531884581377994673?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/5531884581377994673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=5531884581377994673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5531884581377994673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5531884581377994673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/10/heart-attack-got-too-many-questions-and.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6435529457069627969</id><published>2008-09-26T16:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T16:42:54.521-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've sporadically written poems-of-a-sort through this century, and thought I'd start posting some.  I won't start out with my favorites, as it will hopefully lower expectations and such.  Here's one for today.   I believe it was written staring at a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the popcorn strand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a squiggly row&lt;br /&gt;one row&lt;br /&gt;half-done, alone&lt;br /&gt;amid the light and green.&lt;br /&gt;a splash of&lt;br /&gt;old-fashioned nostalgia&lt;br /&gt;and then- stopped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6435529457069627969?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6435529457069627969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6435529457069627969' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6435529457069627969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6435529457069627969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/09/ive-sporadically-written-poems-of-sort.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-5354897515022770434</id><published>2008-09-19T02:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T02:06:59.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love 2AM. The world is different; more tiptoe-ish and mysterious.  I'm hanging out with a friend in Lafayette IN, I caught her home amidst her travels around the world.  (HI MEGAN!!) We just baked cookies with the friends called a glass of wine and good conversation.  Glorious, wonderful world... what good things will you reveal tomorrow?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-5354897515022770434?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/5354897515022770434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=5354897515022770434' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5354897515022770434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5354897515022770434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-love-2am.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-5381883948650819838</id><published>2008-09-17T10:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T11:04:52.082-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life has been mostly a plate of mundane with a 1/2 cup of frustration and the usual pinch of this feeling called youaregoingnowhere.  Yet I'm feeling like bare feet on warm summer pavement.    I took a walk this morning, and recounting everything I had to do today, I realized it was filled with things like making money, and education, and being with friends and family.  Not even factoring in my soft clean sheets.   I know this is somewhat of a duh revelation.  And I know I'm being vague in my explanations.   So, for example, an opportunity came up for me to go with some of my Summit friends to Ireland and Scotland this November.  These two places have reigned as the top contenders for my list called 'This is the order in which I would like to see the World'.  I tried different options out like selling my car so I could go.  But with good sense now somewhat back in place, I'm trying to keep my hands from clenching up around this idea again.  I told Ashley I would give her an answer soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-5381883948650819838?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/5381883948650819838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=5381883948650819838' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5381883948650819838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5381883948650819838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/09/life-has-been-mostly-plate-of-mundane.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-5983486364559950418</id><published>2008-08-31T15:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T15:32:54.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Still on E</title><content type='html'>I have Natasha Bedingfield's &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2h1YDC84Bo"&gt;pocket full of sunshine&lt;/a&gt; stuck in my head.  It's not too far off from my thoughts this afternoon, but that's just today.  Hope everyone is enjoying the long weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-5983486364559950418?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/5983486364559950418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=5983486364559950418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5983486364559950418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5983486364559950418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-have-natasha-bedingfields-pocket-full.html' title='Still on E'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-7720993051327581203</id><published>2008-08-23T15:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T15:06:17.078-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Non post</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://wannabe.guru.org/lynn/apps/"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; held my attention probably longer than it should have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's way too hot to run today :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-7720993051327581203?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/7720993051327581203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=7720993051327581203' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/7720993051327581203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/7720993051327581203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/08/non-post.html' title='Non post'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-441137336873778545</id><published>2008-08-21T23:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T23:34:56.297-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The long day is over</title><content type='html'>Yay, I got through my first double shift waitressing without falling apart.   Really folks, the next time you go out to eat, know that there is much rejoicing behind the swinging doors when you leave after you are done eating and leave a respectable tip.  My admiration for servers has gone way up because it's HARD.  All depends on the restaurant, but still.  I'm thankful to have income, and to know that life won't always be like this.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a different subject, mostly for my benefit because working/money is consuming my thoughts lately, FALL IS COMING.   I love the anticipation of autumn.  The September blue sky's make me think all the other months blue sky's are just posers.   A bouquet of sharpened pencils would be stylin on a desk; apple pies cooling in the window.  Wouldn't it be lovely.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-441137336873778545?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/441137336873778545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=441137336873778545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/441137336873778545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/441137336873778545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/08/long-day-is-over.html' title='The long day is over'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6440189646789631686</id><published>2008-08-12T10:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T11:19:33.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 11 AM</title><content type='html'>My list of things to do isn't so long today.  It's just that they aren't very fun.  I've always loved lists; they are so neat and the thoughts rumbling in your head are now out on paper.  Therefore, they don't take up precious space and that space can be used for remembering how you didn't finish yesterday's to do list.   Plus, there is always a satisfaction in putting a big slash through a task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I propose making fun lists.  Like today, my list would be:&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go to the fair and eat.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lay in the sunshine with my new book.  (I would read it as well)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cut some orange blossoms  by the window for my desk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watch the synchronized Olympic diving&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt; Good idea yes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6440189646789631686?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6440189646789631686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6440189646789631686' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6440189646789631686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6440189646789631686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-11-am.html' title='It&apos;s 11 AM'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6470713674434204453</id><published>2008-08-04T16:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T17:04:06.729-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Employment is.. fun?</title><content type='html'>I found a job after nineteen days of looking.  I don't think that's TOO bad, yet   &lt;a href="http://www.bravoitalian.com"&gt;it's&lt;/a&gt;  not a photojournalist model world traveler (which was what I was going for).  It's nice to have money, what with all the school bills and regular bills and food bills and loans bills (?) and gas bills and fish buying going on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not even living by myself yet, nor have any cute dependents (kids) or hunky men candy (husbands) to call my own.  I'm shaking my fist at you modern world... why must you inflict such destruction upon a pocketbook?  It's not even a pretty one, just small and shiny black.  *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6470713674434204453?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6470713674434204453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6470713674434204453' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6470713674434204453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6470713674434204453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/08/employment-is-fun.html' title='Employment is.. fun?'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6952915955866957508</id><published>2008-08-04T12:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T12:49:30.099-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Put your mind to it, honey.</title><content type='html'>I wrote this on January 31st, 2007:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I will not be a college dropout."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I won't.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6952915955866957508?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6952915955866957508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6952915955866957508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6952915955866957508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6952915955866957508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/08/put-your-mind-to-it-honey.html' title='Put your mind to it, honey.'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3543017845555158324</id><published>2008-07-30T23:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T00:08:29.737-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Words, only words</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I feel sad again.  And this is a for-no-good-reason sad.  You know how girls sometimes answer 'i don't know' to a why question? When you know you really like/don't like something, or feel a certain way, but can't put a concrete reason behind it?  My cousin Adam's illustration on how guys view that answer kinda made me look at this response a different way.  He said it's equivilant to someone asking you where you live, and you say 'i don't know.'  But now I'm just being mean to my own sex.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever turned an offer down, when it would have been the perfect time, just because you had to go to the bathroom? That happened to me just today actually.  I went to apply to the Italian restaurant Bravos, and I was able to get pretty far in the application process.  I was asked if I could stay 10 minutes longer to wait and talk to another manager.   However, the only reason I asked if I could schedule an interview the next day was that I had to get out of there and pee.  I haven't had to go that bad since I was... really young.   And  I definitely couldn't have excused myself right then; I'm trying to make a good impression.  They can't know that I have the same bodily function as the rest of those six billion humans.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and the crickets go on singing their evening melody, and the grass gives off its wet summery smell.  light glows from neighboring windows, and i believe there are people inside.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and it's hard to tell right now, but tomorrow (most likely) the earth will spin as such that our side of the earth will encounter the sun's light.   it will be a new 'day', as genesis first relayed. Not one that we had before and will never have again... in all exactness.  Something to look forward to.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3543017845555158324?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3543017845555158324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3543017845555158324' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3543017845555158324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3543017845555158324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/07/words-only-words.html' title='Words, only words'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-6873219999188949058</id><published>2008-07-15T12:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:02:22.739-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying high with occasional thuds</title><content type='html'>I love the fact that the world is so big, there is so much to do, so much to see and be and create, ways to be challenged and things to look forward to.   There is so much sometimes that instead of racing out and trying to devour it all I poke my head out of my shell- decide it's all much to daunting- and hide.  &lt;div&gt;But I don't want to hide anymore, I don't want to be afraid.   In Colorado I almost felt like a different person, one that could do pretty much anything.  Yet Summit was a bubble, an amazing bubble, and now that I'm in the world again I'm a little girl.   Right now I'm looking for a job, and if anyone knows of someone looking... let me know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-6873219999188949058?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/6873219999188949058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=6873219999188949058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6873219999188949058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/6873219999188949058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/07/flying-high-with-occasional-thuds.html' title='Flying high with occasional thuds'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-5675725384092399867</id><published>2008-07-14T21:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T21:58:42.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lists are great</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My book wish list from this summer:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Gift of Fire&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;War against the weak&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Severe Mercy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slave Trade&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Angola, By the Back Door&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Brothers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Crime and Punishment&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;East of Eden&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My Sister's Keep&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never Eat Alone&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Mastery of Sex&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How Should We Then Live?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Persuasion&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Phantom Tollbooth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have many other lists as well.   Better get started...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Question to ask yourself:  What would you do for God if you knew you could not fail?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-5675725384092399867?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/5675725384092399867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=5675725384092399867' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5675725384092399867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5675725384092399867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/07/everything-looks-perfect-from-far-away.html' title='Lists are great'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-8580539283030244574</id><published>2008-06-26T21:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T21:31:14.829-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sixteen Days</title><content type='html'>Dear Colorado, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have to leave you soon.  This makes me sad because I have so many wonderful memories with you.  I know that you will always be there for me. Yet, I have to tell you that I will be glad to get home and see my family and friends very much because I miss them.  Thank you for everything you have taught me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;Stephanie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-8580539283030244574?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/8580539283030244574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=8580539283030244574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8580539283030244574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/8580539283030244574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/06/sixteen-days.html' title='Sixteen Days'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-2993521636938637779</id><published>2008-06-20T23:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T23:59:21.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>He Said</title><content type='html'>Andy was shooting marshmellows at me tonight with his blowgun. It was practice for keeping students awake during a Marxist worldview movie at 10 PM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We received paychecks today and it was said that, 'they're probably smaller than you would like, but probably bigger than you deserve.'  Yes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had really bad allergyes while here, so somedays my eyes are continually red. One of the guys asked me 'do you always cry?' Always, dear sensitive male. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was in this REAL, LIVE, GENIUINE attic this afternoon, trying to find some quietness, I thought of two things that I could do differently when I get home.&lt;br /&gt;1) Never sleep past 8 AM&lt;br /&gt;2) Plant an amazing garden&lt;br /&gt;I believe that these two activites could maybe change my life.  Planning, planting, caring for and enjoying my [squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, sunflowers, etc...] I'd love to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've noticed everytime I get up early... I never regret it.  I always regret sleeping in. Enjoy it, but regret it.  It's kinda like the things you do where it feels good at the time, but you pay for it.  That could apply to a lot of things, but in this case, you lose time. And with time you can do so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-2993521636938637779?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/2993521636938637779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=2993521636938637779' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2993521636938637779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2993521636938637779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/06/he-said.html' title='He Said'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-46847157586537526</id><published>2008-06-13T00:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T00:33:39.062-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just now</title><content type='html'>Outside my door I heard a girl exclaim, "oh, I love my life!" without a hint of sarcasm.  It was sweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-46847157586537526?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/46847157586537526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=46847157586537526' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/46847157586537526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/46847157586537526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-now.html' title='Just now'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-599609947922846680</id><published>2008-05-29T01:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T01:24:18.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Real people real problems real life</title><content type='html'>It's exhausting really trying to live.  Maybe that sounds odd, or maybe it just sounds true.. but really loving others, serving unselfishly, and honoring Him in all actions are definitely things to add to the todo list.  &lt;br /&gt;'And do not be conformed to the pattern of this world.."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-599609947922846680?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/599609947922846680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=599609947922846680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/599609947922846680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/599609947922846680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/05/real-people-real-problems-real-life.html' title='Real people real problems real life'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-186595705435360811</id><published>2008-05-23T12:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T13:10:05.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful days</title><content type='html'>I've been here in Manitou Springs, Colorado for nine days now and it is glorious.  Today is my free day from working and so far I have slept in, which is hard not to do regularly since I have the 6PM to midnight shift, woke up to my dad calling me, went running (VERY different from running in Indiana!), fiber/protein-ed it up for breakfast... you get the idea.  But everyone here is great, students and staff.  It's a small session, about half of the 180 we usually have... but it's good to slowly start.  &lt;br /&gt;I have been taking pictures, and will upload some when I can get ahold of a laptop.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and because I love snail mail  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the address I'm at here is:&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie Herin&lt;br /&gt;c/o Summit Ministries&lt;br /&gt;Box 207 Osage Ave&lt;br /&gt;Manitou Springs, CO 80829&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-186595705435360811?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/186595705435360811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=186595705435360811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/186595705435360811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/186595705435360811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/05/beautiful-days.html' title='Beautiful days'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-2509713371112034035</id><published>2008-04-04T16:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T16:28:36.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I...</title><content type='html'>ate/drank: coffee, tea, mac n cheese, cucumbers, cereal, bite of chocolate cake. (apparently it's 'c' food day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;felt: scatterbrained&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went to: starbucks, library, work (double shift :()&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;listened to:  Kaleb's DJ Harry pandora radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wished for:  a scooter bike, punching bag (for working out :), the tightness in my shoulders to ease up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;read: a chapter in Revelations, and less than a chapter of Oliver Twist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you guys are having a good day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-2509713371112034035?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/2509713371112034035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=2509713371112034035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2509713371112034035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2509713371112034035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/04/today-i.html' title='Today I...'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-1496738099088295823</id><published>2008-04-01T16:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T17:05:08.539-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking</title><content type='html'>I'm wondering if I should join an amish community.    With the new .7 tax, gas prices, and studies showing that cell phone usage can cause tumors and cancer from the radiation, and just the economy in general... it might be a good idea.&lt;div&gt;Seriously, even though that idea is pretty radical!, moving to the country and living on a farm really makes me excited.    I think it would be hard to cut one thing out, like using my cell phone, and still live in the city.  But if all distractions were removed and life was pretty organic, I think it would be easier to adjust to.  Hmm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-1496738099088295823?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/1496738099088295823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=1496738099088295823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1496738099088295823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/1496738099088295823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/04/thinking.html' title='Thinking'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-2097107702016964777</id><published>2008-03-25T22:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T23:49:54.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I smell it</title><content type='html'>Stars are a twinkling outside... this time of the year is a time for all northern (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;) states to start waking up.  As much as it would be wonderful to live in a forever warm climate,  I think I'd miss some of the anticipation for beautiful weather. &lt;div&gt;I really really enjoy walking out the door without a pile of coat/hat/scarf &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;etc&lt;/span&gt;.   The smell of fresh, damp earth, and warm wind make my windows come up.  In the summer, sitting on the porch at twilight, listening to cicadas showing off their sounds, is one of the most satisfying ways to end the day.  And when spring finally comes, though at first it might decide to be all moody and hail  (like today), I'll probably decide to fondly remember winter.   :)&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-2097107702016964777?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/2097107702016964777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=2097107702016964777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2097107702016964777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2097107702016964777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-smell-it.html' title='I smell it'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-5354707668763971855</id><published>2008-03-23T20:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T20:29:26.715-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Needing some COLOR</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Working holidays [I work at a country club] can be okay, but only when  people go away when they're supposed to.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Note of frustration: Your cold cup of coffee is going to stay cold.  No more refills for you. Please remove yourself from the chair, get into your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mercedes and let us, your penguin servers, have a holiday as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); "&gt;Lesson learned today:  notice others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); "&gt;But also, I think I have a new friend from today:  Her name is Kara. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Katharine Hepburn says: Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get...only with what you are expecting to give... which is everything.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;--kinda hard without Jesus--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-5354707668763971855?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/5354707668763971855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=5354707668763971855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5354707668763971855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/5354707668763971855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/03/needing-some-color.html' title='Needing some COLOR'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3671195910283745366</id><published>2008-03-22T20:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T09:30:27.699-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Corny [but sincere]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Wrote this a while ago&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;you are&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;in everyday sprinklings&lt;br /&gt;that make. life. halt&lt;br /&gt;and i listen-&lt;br /&gt;usually not hearing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a certain yearning&lt;br /&gt;a burst of awakening&lt;br /&gt;you take the words out of me&lt;br /&gt;and put back joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i should like to race out and find&lt;br /&gt;handfuls of perfect wildflowers&lt;br /&gt;to present you at your doorstep.&lt;br /&gt;how can i grab those snatches&lt;br /&gt;and pin them to my heart-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to stay- always to stay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lovely presence,&lt;br /&gt;you are what holds me&lt;br /&gt;together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3671195910283745366?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3671195910283745366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3671195910283745366' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3671195910283745366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3671195910283745366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/03/corny-but-sincere.html' title='Corny [but sincere]'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-2610974101249674050</id><published>2008-03-21T11:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T11:43:54.052-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Different sounds around me:  the clock's tick, the dryer, faint voices from another room.  (and also my 18 year old brother's clear voice in search of food.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The curtains are shutting out a cloudy day.&lt;br /&gt;And laundry waiting at my feet in a jumble mess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was driving back from Lafeyette this morning, a special program was on for good Friday.  Different voices were acting out Luke  chapters 22 and 23.  &lt;br /&gt;                                              These few verses, in the context of Jesus being led away to be crucified,  were loud...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; "...and women who also mourned and lamented Him.  But Jeseus, turning to them, said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for yourselves and for your children.  For indeed the days are coming in which they will say, 'Blessed are the barren, wombs that never bore, and breats which never nursed!' Then they will begin  'to say to the mountains, "Fall on us!" and to the hills, "Cover us!"  For if they do these things in the green wood, what will be done in the dry?   &lt;br /&gt;[Luke 23: 28-31]&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I know what he's saying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-2610974101249674050?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/2610974101249674050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=2610974101249674050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2610974101249674050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/2610974101249674050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/03/different-sounds-around-me-clocks-tick.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-4784142503001455864</id><published>2008-03-13T02:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T03:23:58.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Megan gets back in three days.  I'm just about 22 years old.   Goodfellas.  I found a good country- side think spot when the need arises.    I wish Indiana had less Indiana in it.   I'm also on a quest for a good solid bike, one that'll last.  Craving cheese.  And I really love my sister, who cuddles with me in bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-4784142503001455864?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/4784142503001455864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=4784142503001455864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/4784142503001455864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/4784142503001455864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/03/megan-gets-back-in-three-days.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-3823543424003578325</id><published>2008-03-07T13:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T13:38:19.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Five months later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think part of my problem is that a computer screen scares me. I am a veteran of pen and paper, and have been "journaling" since 1995. But the stack of notebooks have only been for me... and now trying to write for whoever might click upon this site might be where I am tripping up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I enjoy reading others words and thoughts, and I'd now like to be on the giving and not just receiving end. To write without critic and self-consciousness, to write what is real and not all dreams is a good idea, and one that might be hard. Because, God forbid, anyone actually get to know me...! I was always bad at brainstorming in school; spewing out the first middle and last idea, without any extra caution or 'yea THAT would never happen, wasn't how my brain liked to work. I would always like to think things through, and maybe too much. Hereditary props to my dad for giving me this personality trait :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all this to say that I'm gonna write publically now, whether anyone reads or not. And that it will sometimes be as logical or sensical (new word?) as a middle school english brainstorm assignment.  But that's okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-3823543424003578325?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/3823543424003578325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=3823543424003578325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3823543424003578325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/3823543424003578325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2008/03/five-months-later.html' title=''/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5134028313394748751.post-704245786893071263</id><published>2007-10-10T23:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T23:51:33.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>(Maybe serious...)</title><content type='html'>Sitting, staring&lt;br /&gt;(really just wanting to go to bed)&lt;br /&gt;But I'm up, trying to put words on a screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for you Jen&lt;br /&gt;Far away from me (in Texas)&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to put my life on a blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5134028313394748751-704245786893071263?l=stephiejane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/feeds/704245786893071263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5134028313394748751&amp;postID=704245786893071263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/704245786893071263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5134028313394748751/posts/default/704245786893071263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephiejane.blogspot.com/2007/10/maybe-serious.html' title='(Maybe serious...)'/><author><name>steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00487537851581150297</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AUVK9G5DDmw/SKIQfGMV3fI/AAAAAAAAAAw/NVKYxxMowiQ/s1600-R/100_2231.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
