tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74813374507351984512024-03-05T11:29:50.710-07:00Budgeting During CollegeLife lessons from a struggling college student living far below the poverty line.Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-85362671440789039572013-03-23T11:23:00.005-06:002013-03-23T12:32:12.248-06:00FREE ENGAGEMENT PHOTOS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-53590103214475750082013-03-06T04:57:00.001-07:002013-03-06T05:18:23.423-07:00I'm Baaaaaack!!Hello everyone!<br />
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Oh wow have I missed you guys! But don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you :). After all, I shared some seriously personal stuff with you, like how a bout of ADHD always seems to hit <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/05/spring-cleaning-is-for-dress-up.html#.UTccfTDqmSo" target="_blank">the second I try to clean out a closet,</a> my best attempt (<a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/06/lesson-9-some-days-are-going-to-be.html#.UTcdIDDqmSo" target="_blank">with a little help from some wine</a>) to handle couples that fight with each other on purpose because they think it makes them seem closer than the rest of us, <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/06/marlee-vs-gym-hottie.html#.UTcc7jDqmSo" target="_blank">my gym insecurities</a> and even my <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/05/proudest-moment.html#.UTccezDqmSo" target="_blank">proudest moment in my entire life</a>. However, it's been a while since we've really hung out, so let's get reacquainted, shall we?<br />
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Well, a few years ago (oh wow, has it really been that long?) I was a <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/09/lesson-13-reality-hurts.html#.UTcYJTDqmSo" target="_blank">struggling college student</a> working my way through a Master's program in Counseling; specifically, A Master's in Psychiatric Rehabilitation and Something To Do With Office Work...or something like that. Now granted, I left college with some <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/04/lesson-3-making-memory-is-money-well.html#.UTcYcDDqmSo" target="_blank">amazing stories</a>, but I still knew something wasn't quite right.<br />
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I couldn't shake this feeling of being <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/am-i-normal.html#.UTcgSzDqmSo" target="_blank">trapped in a life I didn't want to lead</a>. There were times when I would do <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/05/stupid-and-crazy.html#.UTcfVTDqmSo" target="_blank">something crazy in order to break free</a> and I even found myself <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-11-blessing-in-disguise.html#.UTch1TDqmSo" target="_blank">writing novels starring sad, boring characters</a> that so resembled my life.<br />
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So after a <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-10-im-big-kid-now.html#.UTcbbzDqmSp" target="_blank">horrible first counseling job experience</a>, a <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-11-blessing-in-disguise.html#.UTcbkjDqmSp" target="_blank">blessing in disguise</a> and <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/passion-reality-smart-career-choices.html#.UTcU9zDqmSo" target="_blank">a risky career move</a> I've arrived here. And I have to say, 'here' feels pretty damn good.<br />
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And where exactly is 'here'? 'Here' is a complete 180 from where my life was two years ago. Stay with me, I'll explain.<br />
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Remember that <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/11/camera-wish-list.html#.UTcV1jDqmSo" target="_blank">camera starter kit</a> I posted about? Well I've since upgraded. And remember how I went <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/passion-reality-smart-career-choices.html#.UTcU9zDqmSo" target="_blank">door to door offering to work for free</a> for <i>any</i> local photographer just to gain experience and learn the business? Well this summer will be the two year mark working with the only photographer willing to give someone with <i>absolutely no photography experience </i>a shot.<br />
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Then I <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-not-you-its-me.html#.UTcXdzDqmSo" target="_blank">broke up with Blogger</a>. That was sad (and yes, I see you've made some impressive changes Blogger, but I think we're still better off as just friends), threw myself into finding additional writing jobs and learned everything I possibly could about photography. And finally, a few months ago, I officially started my own photography business.<br />
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And it's. Been. AWESOME.<br />
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In one of my posts I talked about how a friend of mine once told me to pay attention to what I am most jealous about in others. So I did, and I found that I was most jealous of people that had freedom and excitement in life. And now, I can honestly say I feel liberated and happy. I'm <i>finally </i>doing something that I love. I make my own schedule, I have the freedom to travel when I want to, and I can work whatever hours I chose (like right now, at 4:09 in the morning). That "trapped" feeling? Gone.<br />
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And that's why I'm back; you all may not realize it, but you've been a huge part of my life. You've given me encouragement when I felt like a complete outcast and you've taken the time to read my stories and offer up advice and understanding. I'm not sure if things would've turned out the way they did without so much encouragement from an online blogging community. Strange, isn't it? How much power you all hold?<br />
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So I'm officially inviting you all to come over to my new blog. <a href="http://jennamartinphotography.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">It's right here and it's called Jenna Martin Photography</a> (yup, my real name is actually Jenna, not Marlee...see, I feel like we know each other a little bit better already). I'd love to let you in on my new world!! After all, you're part of the reason this is all happening! Also:<br />
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Website: <a href="http://www.jennamartinphoto.com/">www.jennamartinphoto.com</a><br />
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JennaMartinPhotography?ref=hl" target="_blank">Jenna Martin Photography</a><br />
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/jennamtphoto" target="_blank">@Jennamtphoto</a><br />
Tumblr: <a href="http://jennamartinphotography.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">jennamartinphotography</a><br />
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I hope to hear from you guys! I'd love to know how you are all doing!<br />
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Oh and P.S: Remember <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/04/lesson-2-pricetags-are-overrated.html#.UTcmIjDqmSo" target="_blank">that baseball player I was so in love with</a> a few years ago? Yeah, he's still around. Going strong, 5 years and counting :).<br />
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<a href="http://mommyonlyhastwohands.blogspot.com/search/label/Hump%20Day"><img height="100" src="http://i290.photobucket.com/albums/ll263/Lynhea/Humpdaybloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>
Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-40426987969078207772012-07-21T04:10:00.001-06:002012-07-21T04:49:45.003-06:00Breakup Redemption: I Win<div style="text-align: center;">
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Folks I haven't written a blog post in awhile (and frankly I'm pretty impressed with Blogger's new platform...maybe he <i>has </i>changed after all...maybe I <i>should </i>give him another chance...) but I simply have to share this with you, as I'm sure many of you will identify with my current situation, and I just need to tell <i>someone!</i><br />
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But first, a bit of background.<br />
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If you haven't read previous posts explaining my past relationship, let me give you a quick rundown. From my freshman summer at college to my senior year at college, I dated a guy named...oh I dunno, let's give him a fake name so I can be the bigger person and he can keep his anonymity: Jason. We'll call him Jason (Jason is his real name, I don't give a shit about being the bigger person). Over the course of our relationship, he landed me in the hospital multiple times, he brainwashed me into believing I could never live a life outside of the life he decided for us (where I was his slave and his authority was never questioned), and he took advantage of me in every way possible. An example you say? Why of course!<br />
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Eight months into our relationship, my brother graduated high school. Thrilled at the chance to see him, Jason and I drove the six hours across Montana to see his graduation ceremony. Shortly after his ceremony ended, as I was talking to my brother and various high school friends, Jason came up to me, stone-faced and cold.<br />
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"What's wrong?" I inquired.<br />
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"I just got a phone call from my sister," he said. "My father just died of a heart attack."<br />
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Naturally, I went into compassion mode. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry! What do you want to do?"<br />
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"I just want to go home," he replied.<br />
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So we went home. I apologized to my brother about having to miss his graduation celebrations, and excused myself from my friends as we headed back on the the road.<br />
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Jason screamed at me the whole way home. Most of it made no sense, but I wasn't listening. I figured this was how he was coping, and it was my job to be supportive, no matter what. After all he had just lost his father.<br />
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After we got home, he continued to berate me for the next week. If a sock was lying in the living room, I was going to hear about it. If a his dinner wasn't hot enough, I was going to hear about it. If the television was at a volume that he deemed unpleasant, he was going to throw it out the window, and then later explain it to our landlords, blaming me in exquisite detail. Finally, after a week of this, I called his sister.<br />
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"Hello?"<br />
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"Hi," I said. "I'm sorry it took me so long to call, I just thought you could use a little time to yourself. I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your dad. If you need anything, let me know."<br />
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Silence.<br />
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"What do you mean?"she asked.<br />
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"Well your father," I mumbled. "Jason said he died of a heart attack last week. Oh my God, please tell me you already knew..."<br />
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"Wait," she answered, "I don't understand. My dad is sitting right next to me, do you want to talk to him?"<br />
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The blood ran from my face, and I could feel myself losing grip on the phone. "No," I replied. "That's okay." I hung up and waited for Jason to come home.<br />
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The second he walked in the door he started into me, screaming about some insignificant thing I knew nothing of.<br />
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"I can't deal with your shit right now," he yelled, "I'm grieving!"<br />
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"I just talked to your sister," I replied calmly. "And your dad was sitting right next to her, alive as ever."<br />
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He stared. I stared.<br />
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"Well," he said matter-of-factly, "someone had to teach you a lesson."<br />
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(Hi Red Flag, my name is Marlee, nice to meet you.) </div>
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I stayed with this man for four years. No, I never learned what "lesson" he was trying to teach me, but it's pretty safe to say that things went downhill from there. So downhill, actually, that I didn't even make the choice to move out of my home. After he had held me hostage for 3 days (no work, no cell phone, no contact whatsoever with the outside world), A group of friends showed up and move moved me out at 1:00 in the morning while he was at work. I sat in the living room, a puddle of terrified tears, watching strangers pack my closet and throw it in the bed of a pickup truck.<br />
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So anyway, back to the awesome story that has me so excited right now at 4:24 in the morning.<br />
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It's been 4 and 1/2 years since the day I moved out. Ironically, my current boyfriend is one of the people that moved me out of that house, and we weren't even dating at the time. So tonight, 4 and 1/2 years later, I went out with some friends.<br />
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We went a variety of places, but then ended the night at a bar called, "The West." This is a place that entirely revolves around the dance floor, and as much as I'd like to go there when I'm sober, it takes a considerable number of beverages before any of my friends will set foot there. Tonight we went, and who should I run into but...<br />
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No, not Jason...<br />
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Jim (name actually <i>has </i>been changed), our old roommate.<br />
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This was the guy Jason and I lived with. The guy that stood in the corner as Jason called me every name in the book and gave me concussion after concussion. The guy who was still very close friends with Jason and who talked to him on a regular basis. I'd never given Jason another thought since the day I was forcefully moved out, but this made the memories come rushing back.<br />
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I made eye contact with him, could see he didn't recognize me, and in an instant I knew; if I was going to do this, it was up to me.<br />
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So I went for it.<br />
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"Jim!" I shouted across the room. "I can't believe it's you!"<br />
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He smiled, and stared at me, dumbfounded.<br />
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"It's Marlee...we lived together!"<br />
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"No..."<br />
"Yes! Do you not remember me?"<br />
"I remember, it's just...no...<i>Marlee?"</i><br />
"Yeah!"<br />
"No, not the Marlee I lived with. You look...wow."<br />
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<i>Wow. </i>That's a word that you never really forget. "Wow in a good way?" I asked. "Yes," he stuttered. "My God you look amazing. I can't believe how hot you are!"<br />
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I brushed it off. Yes, I had lost a good 30 pounds since we lived together, I learned how to correctly apply makeup, I had a shirt on that could make any well-endowed woman insanely jealous (my girls are a healthy 36D), and I was breaking in a pair of 4" platform heels for an upcoming wedding next weekend. <i>And</i> I was wearing a pair of cut-off shorts that made my legs looked 'effin amazing. Yeah, I have to say, I did look pretty goddamn good tonight.<br />
<br />
"How have you been?" I asked, trying to stray into polite conversation, but he wasn't having it. He got halfway through a sentence before he came back to how amazing I looked. He even said I was now one of those girls that guys talk about when they get home because they can't believe a girl that attractive would talk to <i>them</i>. I was glowing.<br />
<br />
"Aw, well it's nice to see you, sounds like you're doing great! Tell Jason 'hi' for me!" Then I scooted off to the dance floor and never looked back.<br />
<br />
Ladies and Gents, this may sound like the most conceited post of all time, and maybe it is, but I just don't give a damn. And as much as you may hate to admit it, a breakup is a competition. A competition to see who's doing better and who came out on top. Shallow? Of course it's shallow, but it's a way of life. I haven't spent one second thinking of Jason, and since I've found a <i>real man</i>, I've spent even less time thinking about how awful Jason made me feel all those years. But for all that high mindedness, tonight was an exercise in reality.<br />
<br />
Someone always wins. Low road? Probably, but I don't care.<br />
<br />
All I'm hoping is that tomorrow morning, Jim calls up Jason to tell him that he ran into his ex-girlfriend, and she looked <i>waaaay </i>out of his league.<br />
<br />
Fact: 4 and 1/2 years later, I just won the breakup, and it fells <i>fantastic. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" /><img src="http://i1200.photobucket.com/albums/bb334/Weidknecht/weekendhopbutton.jpg" />
</div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-20925307249901881132012-01-10T11:42:00.001-07:002012-01-10T12:02:24.573-07:00It's Not You, It's Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzl4dCi0_P5JxjtRdRxf5obKuUmIzA3ekp_agcyF7fsE8gR1MVVF_kXP3CsGAC5WdLAjIQdwk1kqGlKn-DMuvUqgRZVymM9Msu6JUcDr1lhSOdFb3pG19IEKV8V6Ut4LG7y7YiFvcZK3g/s1600/breaking+up.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzl4dCi0_P5JxjtRdRxf5obKuUmIzA3ekp_agcyF7fsE8gR1MVVF_kXP3CsGAC5WdLAjIQdwk1kqGlKn-DMuvUqgRZVymM9Msu6JUcDr1lhSOdFb3pG19IEKV8V6Ut4LG7y7YiFvcZK3g/s1600/breaking+up.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Hey there Blogger, how have you been? It <em>has </em>been awhile, now that you mention it, since I've actually written a real blog. What's that? A week? Maybe more? Well, who's counting. You look good Blogger, you look good. <br />
<br />
Where have I been? Oh, yeah, about that. Maybe we should sit down and talk about something. Blogger? Did you hear me? Blogger...I need to talk to you. <em>Blogger...</em>pause the damn game this is important. <br />
<br />
Here, hold my hand. First let me just say that you're awesome...just...awesome. I mean look at all the friends you have! You're fun, and nice and just, awesome. Super awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I think you deserve better. <em>We </em>deserve better, don't you think? <br />
<br />
Exactly. We deserve better. Better than this. What? Someone else? Noooo, there's no one else...there's...no one...else...<br />
<br />
Okay fine, there's someone else. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aMdJh6jcG7DE4iWknKlsax2qyclkRBjRowb2Lc9rcJuSPxgH_nDRuMCCBvZGGTc9h71QFkARG6-QjwSrCyQBjfWS33_GzUTMRAvVJPeOPxpfX89AV8ya8VN1v2mPDbcFbLJZXA-Snfk/s1600/wordpress.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aMdJh6jcG7DE4iWknKlsax2qyclkRBjRowb2Lc9rcJuSPxgH_nDRuMCCBvZGGTc9h71QFkARG6-QjwSrCyQBjfWS33_GzUTMRAvVJPeOPxpfX89AV8ya8VN1v2mPDbcFbLJZXA-Snfk/s1600/wordpress.png" /></a></div>Sorry! It wasn't like I went <em>looking </em>for Wordpress, it just sort of found me. And out of respect for you, nothing happened. Hear me? <em>Nothing happened. </em>We've just been hanging out: visiting over coffee, a few late night conversations...just...getting to know each other. At first I thought maybe it was just a phase I was going through. You know, like a mid-life blogging crisis or something, but it's gotten me to re-examine our relationship and now it's all I think about. I just can't live like this anymore. I have to be honest with myself. I have to be honest with <em>us. </em><br />
<br />
Please throw that in the garbage, I just cleaned yesterday. Or throw it on the floor, whatever. <br />
<br />
Oh come on, did you really not see this coming? You used to be so attentive and caring; my blog uploaded at breakneck speeds and whenever I had a question you were always there to help. Lately though, as our lives have grown more complex (I added more features and you added more friends), we began to drift apart. Now, my blog is slow to upload and difficult to edit, and nothing I do seems to make you happy. I can't for the life of me figure out why I have two different fonts on my Weight Loss Community Page, and the font colors have become a serious pain in the ass to work with.<br />
<br />
And the <em>jealousy, </em>what's that all about? You've not only deleted followers without my permission, but you've even deleted whole <em>posts</em> without my permission...<em>who does that? </em>You <em>say</em> you're letting me follow other blogs, but then I hear from them that you won't let me. It breaks my heart that you would go behind my back like that. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2O4_VmXEreR-vn9-R3XH_0omSxkw41Otad4qFIS2zWKT1_CtEIUX1Dyv54rFqIcb8Zo6CxuXPF_QzRT50lI2lzKP9C9cFREAS-3h7pyapo6k0Ki3VPuSpe-XYMopycNV7e2-j6G-sas/s1600/blogger.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2O4_VmXEreR-vn9-R3XH_0omSxkw41Otad4qFIS2zWKT1_CtEIUX1Dyv54rFqIcb8Zo6CxuXPF_QzRT50lI2lzKP9C9cFREAS-3h7pyapo6k0Ki3VPuSpe-XYMopycNV7e2-j6G-sas/s1600/blogger.png" /></a>And while we're being honest, the new interface? <em>Really? </em>It's a boring gray color that makes it difficult to read and navigate. Yes, I've already told you that, numerous times, but you just ignore me...like you're doing now...<em>Blogger! </em>As I was saying, it's ugly and cranky. God, I feel like I don't even know you anymore. <br />
<br />
So let's just call this for what it is: a fling that's run it's course.<br />
<br />
Admit it, when we first got together it was wild and exciting. I was sneaking off in the middle of the night to spend time with you, and you opened my eyes to the exotic world of blogging. Neither of us wanted anything serious, and that's what made it so much fun! But things are different now. I've grown up and what I need from our relationship you just can't provide. I need more than a simple outlet for my writing, I need an advanced layout, one where I can add as many pages and links as I want. I need the ability to upload videos and photos without worrying about bringing my load time to a seemingly excrutiating halt, and I need the freedom to adjust my blog accordingly. Not to mention a little customer support every now and then. <br />
<br />
Can you put down the Funyuns for just a second, we're kind of breaking up right now...<br />
<br />
Thank you. <br />
<br />
Where was I...oh, right. Well, I can honestly say I have no regrets. I mean we did have our good times, didn't we? Remember that time I won a blogging award? That wasn't all me, you contributed too. And I'm sure I'll think fondly of all our familiar places...on the couch, in the bedroom. I've experimented more with you than any other blog hosting site. You were my first, and I'll never forget that. I hope we can still be friends. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScC2kTLEFtgKKP-3ISkFk5CGsF74R8P_l2FMO-0NE4PS6fBEh8Owh2E-MYLViXtebd0JZXpVFmTgv7owcb8sGiafYWILNdIkweeSgJnupj6MrA4_ns8tmenxaZEXMdE1xvE2jFufWTW4/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScC2kTLEFtgKKP-3ISkFk5CGsF74R8P_l2FMO-0NE4PS6fBEh8Owh2E-MYLViXtebd0JZXpVFmTgv7owcb8sGiafYWILNdIkweeSgJnupj6MrA4_ns8tmenxaZEXMdE1xvE2jFufWTW4/s1600/untitled.png" /></a>Most important though, we have the followers. They're so beautiful and innocent, and we never would've had them if we'd never gotten together, but that doesn't mean we should stay together for their sake. I've known other bloggers who did that and in the end everyone ended up getting hurt. Besides, the followers are old enough now to understand that we're just not as good together as we used to be. It's better this way, for everyone. Just because you're here and I'm over at Wordpress doesn't mean we're going to screw up they're lives...as long as we stay civil, that is. <br />
<br />
And don't worry, I'm not going anywhere just yet. I still have to pack and my new place is going to take a lot of work before it's ready. Plus there are a few things we need to sort out, like which posts I'm going to take with me and how to make this as easy as possible on the followers.<br />
<br />
Well I feel better now, I think we needed to get all of that out in the open. Is there anything you wanted to ask me?<br />
<br />
No, Blogger, you can get your own damn beer.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.magicalmouseschoolhouse.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_D7ftEAtWGwO933SpL0shwOZMTTGH6t53IZXfiHjj7rmjVQeT6kHfqv06Tot_f4I4FxiCSITLiciVs2baNVjCp0Zb4qcd1lvdSPyXFCT0cqcyNReIcJ1VIh3LzQPKgbfYMu5My1szmk/s200/Tiggerific+Tuesday+no+border.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sixinthenest.com/search/label/Tuesday"><img height="100" src="http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k432/koulgurl/blogtrail.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-52273076447912137732011-11-25T13:05:00.003-07:002011-11-26T11:49:42.951-07:00Photography Wish ListOk folks, so after countless hours of research and recommendations from the photographer I've been working with, this is the initial combination of photography equipment I'm thinking of buying: <br />
<br />
1. Camera: Canon EOS 40D 10.1 MP Digital SLR Camera <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0vtZsW5OJ3jHlCRstCES6ReFEe-0KkgOObLOEU57t8ukoHw-292QYQoVgGHy2YiaZZokk96KqJPu6ghbDpGWFqBdd1MQ2xSzXSPDI8sGdPboT9O6IXZQTjb2rLOMqINbZWxR7JkuXnw/s1600/aaaaafe.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0vtZsW5OJ3jHlCRstCES6ReFEe-0KkgOObLOEU57t8ukoHw-292QYQoVgGHy2YiaZZokk96KqJPu6ghbDpGWFqBdd1MQ2xSzXSPDI8sGdPboT9O6IXZQTjb2rLOMqINbZWxR7JkuXnw/s320/aaaaafe.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
2. Lens: Canon EF 50mm F/1.8 1.8 II Lens<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLNyV14ZO6sgMD0QR0zHQmFzvPtrPrCg6CkQ5HT-JeiEcg34-rEhoc7QG87ORvVnGd7dXOoBLJUnZ5j1HpgmpLRqLnOpPHJjmJd5HXnCtyau6d585T2ELpkxm3tulgy7q1Pp0g6mpirA/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLNyV14ZO6sgMD0QR0zHQmFzvPtrPrCg6CkQ5HT-JeiEcg34-rEhoc7QG87ORvVnGd7dXOoBLJUnZ5j1HpgmpLRqLnOpPHJjmJd5HXnCtyau6d585T2ELpkxm3tulgy7q1Pp0g6mpirA/s320/aaaaaofff.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I can find both of these on Ebay for a combination of about $500, which considering my budget at this point is about $12, I have a feeling this is as close as I'm going to get. Any photographers out there have any advice for me? I'm an open book!!<br />
<br />
Keep these requirements in mind: <br />
<br />
- I'd use it for action/journalism shots more than portrait shots<br />
- Some landscapes<br />
- Extremely low budget <br />
<br />
Any words of wisdom?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://to-calm-insanity.blogspot.com/2011/11/that-friday-blog-hop-28.html"><img height="100" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v324/satinxoxo/blog%20buttons/thatfridaybloghop-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifewithtwinsandadramaqueen.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1096.photobucket.com/albums/g338/LifeTiwnsNaDramaQueen/untitled2.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.aspicyboycatandmyfatass.com/search/label/Spicy%20Weekend%20Hop"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbUQ-6fneVfiQFOmtZdb4O5iY_lsD17wX9anPSvvm8DbplzgA4wjiE8J5Cz4TPJkyehzVD_B3ZzDbNAfV4hfdlQyEA_ZFO9j3fBJHdp19_7ag7DxWrgYhnMSVZ7y3UfF6MCCyl3hUCRQY/s320/hop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://littlenotebookblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Sisterhood%20Saturday"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-PIth-BvOxfk/TpCCJN7qYgI/AAAAAAAAAIA/C7okAlnXe3c/sisters%25255B21%25255Dj%25255B12%25255D.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-82074854617085120322011-10-31T03:44:00.003-06:002011-11-01T14:39:14.111-06:00Thank You: All Of You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzEi-lm0Fm51dPJTCIhWg2Rg4XrJ-QgEgd_k5TNOb2YnlBYyX531SXUZ6Sn9Vlyle4ocXH806FML4hZ0P5aDX6QXPfqFImS42W7GF_kPQd5rCrPtyE_xO0Vx-HE5veYdZvLJRRjYeBao/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzEi-lm0Fm51dPJTCIhWg2Rg4XrJ-QgEgd_k5TNOb2YnlBYyX531SXUZ6Sn9Vlyle4ocXH806FML4hZ0P5aDX6QXPfqFImS42W7GF_kPQd5rCrPtyE_xO0Vx-HE5veYdZvLJRRjYeBao/s320/aaaaahmmm.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Wow...how have you been blogging buddies? I've been...well, I'll explain. There's been a lot of development on my end, and I bet you all have <em>no idea </em>how much you had to do with it.<br />
<br />
Here, I'll break it down for you. <br />
<br />
Remember about 8 months ago when I started blogging on a complete whim? No? Well that's cool. I had three week break between when spring semester ended and summer semester began, and I'd never gone that long without having a paper to write in years, so when a friend suggested blogging to keep my fingers busy, I decided to check it out. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO6X5MKddJoxYsYY4fx4WtleiHSc840ut8nnizDAXGMH-EnOTMI267HNR1FF-uq46uZ1FmGgvKVokQOeVmhYCaCIaQ_hyphenhyphenw8SS8AdXHwUKVm8NzYtT7QIyAsI1sgizGdA-eoW_apqouuWQ/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO6X5MKddJoxYsYY4fx4WtleiHSc840ut8nnizDAXGMH-EnOTMI267HNR1FF-uq46uZ1FmGgvKVokQOeVmhYCaCIaQ_hyphenhyphenw8SS8AdXHwUKVm8NzYtT7QIyAsI1sgizGdA-eoW_apqouuWQ/s320/aaaaafired.png" width="320" /></a>I found Blogger, opened an account under a fake name (not <em>completely </em>ready to trust the internet) and started writing. College was all I'd known, so that was a good enough topic at the time. But as I became more and more frustrated with the career path I had chosen, the topics turned to self-introspection. What the hell was I doing? For as defiant as I was in everything else in life, I sure waved the white towel pretty quick when my parents limited my options for potential college majors. I gave in without a fight. Without doing my own research, even. And sure enough, the farther I got along on the path that had been chosen for me by those "who knew best", the more miserable I became. <br />
<br />
And through it all, <em>you</em> were always the first ones to know. I explained to you the intense misery I felt at my first "big girl job", how I wanted to just keep driving everyday on my way to work, and how I felt trapped and confined by the metaphorical prison cell known as the cubicle. I word for word described my boss's <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-10-im-big-kid-now.html" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: red;">unwarranted bullying</span></strong></a>, and then filled you in on <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-11-blessing-in-disguise.html" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: red;">the day I got fired</span></strong></a>. After that ordeal, I gave you more than a glimpse into who I really was by letting you all see the results of my own <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/passion-reality-smart-career-choices.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><strong>psychological career assessment</strong></span></a>. I had previously changed my mind so many times (maybe I should have seen the sign then?) that I felt guilty about letting any of my family know that after two bachelor degrees and a Master's, I was starting from scratch. You, blogging world, were my main source of feedback. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIJB-B4pqqAM4LEJtxevQlTcb4_BdvFVjfmyDQWVnFodvtg9Pcr_5kyXRrqtzBjjw-cQSO1DyaVY6qPTwZwHw7WjGwj4NlgeUo1IDZBgUjrNIy_kIUiXnxxZ5KtblhqzlTWm1jcRLX7E/s1600/aaaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIJB-B4pqqAM4LEJtxevQlTcb4_BdvFVjfmyDQWVnFodvtg9Pcr_5kyXRrqtzBjjw-cQSO1DyaVY6qPTwZwHw7WjGwj4NlgeUo1IDZBgUjrNIy_kIUiXnxxZ5KtblhqzlTWm1jcRLX7E/s320/aaaaaaofff.png" width="242" /></a></div>And feedback I got. People I'd never met before in my entire life offered condolences and words of encouragement. I felt like I belonged to a secret society, and one that was fully supportive of whichever direction I wanted to take. <br />
<br />
Soon I focused on a select few careers and decided to take the leap. Writer/photographer turned out to be the most realistic (when compared to acting, writing music, finger-painting and underwater basket weaving) but it still seemed like such a long shot. But with your encouragement, I took the leap. <br />
<br />
I sent out about countless job applications to websites and magazines asking the naive question of, "Hi, I like to write. How do I write for you?" Brash and completely unprofessional? Definitely. But worth the embarrassment to get my question answered? Absolutely. I had no idea how to get into this business, and I knew I had to start somewhere. <br />
<br />
I got 6 replies and they offered me jobs writing bit by bit articles. Instantly, I felt the pit of my stomach grow heavy. <em>What the hell did I think I was doing? I don't have a journalism degree, or an English degree or a writing degree, or an 'in' with some famous poet, or a collection of antique pens, or a library with leather-bound books...</em>I had the sudden urge to answer all of them back with, "Sorry, family emergency. Maybe the spring issue will work out better. P.S. lose my email I'm terrified of you." But I'd already committed on here. On my online blog with a fake name. So I stuck it out. <br />
<br />
And thank God I did. It's been tough, but I now blog for three separate companies on a weekly basis, and write for 3 different statewide magazines. Eventually I'd love to call myself a freelance photojournalist (I'm still saving for that damn camera) and be able to document history right as it happens. In the meantime though I'm learning new skills, like how to actual promote a blog correctly and how to use backlinking and other ways of optimization to increase traffic. Plus last night I found out I type 80 words a minute. Take that, Mavis Beacon. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfP67Fw78XE4vXu7yQq3GlfCXGNLMhm5mcHnFBsNIF-EbTjFsTlNnMdhbPJ4gWJhcc5DqU5-SKOj8mYefT618D4mu-h52qg9-9k0HXylcJwsRDFRAIlfQkFhle-fH6Ia2xh6pUna9MqM/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfP67Fw78XE4vXu7yQq3GlfCXGNLMhm5mcHnFBsNIF-EbTjFsTlNnMdhbPJ4gWJhcc5DqU5-SKOj8mYefT618D4mu-h52qg9-9k0HXylcJwsRDFRAIlfQkFhle-fH6Ia2xh6pUna9MqM/s320/aaaaaofff.png" width="320" /></a>Blogger buddies, what I wanted to say was thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou a million times over. I feel like I'm finally in a job/career that is what<em> I </em>want to do, not what someone thought I would be good at. I'm excited, and I can't wait to see where this is all going to lead. I work hard, I make my own hours, and guess what...if I travel? I don't have to take time off work. </div><br />
So that trip to Italy? That <em>you </em>voted on? Still planned for the spring. Except instead of a week long trip to Italy it's gradually grown to a 3 week trip to 6 different countries. <br />
<br />
And I can't wait to write all about it.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ftmommyferg.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="The Not-So-Secret Confessions of a First Time Mom" border="0" height="100" src="http://i332.photobucket.com/albums/m335/kayedani/newmondaybutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.kdbuggieboutique.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1044.photobucket.com/albums/b441/kshisley/th_minglemondaybutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.toughcookiemommy.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://img580.imageshack.us/img580/232/bloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://canadianmom-whatsonmymind.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1007.photobucket.com/albums/af192/CEOmomJen/MotivationalMondaysBloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://motherofpearlitis.net/category/monkey-do-monday/"><img height="100" src="http://i305.photobucket.com/albums/nn226/skinsgaloreandmore/bkg/monkeydo.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.singleparentretreat.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk189/4MyDesigns/Buttons/spr_bloghop_01a.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.onlyparentchronicles.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/That_One_Mom/Only%20Parent%20Chronicles%20Blog%20Design/PostItNoteTuesday-OnlyParentChronicles-FINALcopy.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.magicalmouseschoolhouse.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_D7ftEAtWGwO933SpL0shwOZMTTGH6t53IZXfiHjj7rmjVQeT6kHfqv06Tot_f4I4FxiCSITLiciVs2baNVjCp0Zb4qcd1lvdSPyXFCT0cqcyNReIcJ1VIh3LzQPKgbfYMu5My1szmk/s200/Tiggerific+Tuesday+no+border.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://poshonabudget.com/"><img height="100" src="http://poshonabudget.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/tfc1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sixinthenest.com/search/label/Tuesday"><img height="100" src="http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k432/koulgurl/blogtrail.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-88825263925677891092011-10-07T04:16:00.001-06:002011-10-07T04:31:36.484-06:00Nightshift vs Dayshift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLhd74H_nS2OPDAjRK-ZzGAc6jKP08P4HTqrhH3PLASMlcMs1dhNjAtUlr9Jxvx2-DbYoQIQZdLmwisvbgXZM-03LSIQj7N1E6Ybm8YeL-5rZyeaEKxYTSCLayb_s_HJnl5G8216ad0o/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLhd74H_nS2OPDAjRK-ZzGAc6jKP08P4HTqrhH3PLASMlcMs1dhNjAtUlr9Jxvx2-DbYoQIQZdLmwisvbgXZM-03LSIQj7N1E6Ybm8YeL-5rZyeaEKxYTSCLayb_s_HJnl5G8216ad0o/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Fun fact: I'm a nightshifter. At a psychiatric hospital. <br />
<br />
As in I work nightshifts...not some mythological shape-shifter super hero...although that sounds way more awesome... <br />
<br />
But there’s a number of reasons why working nights is better for me: I get paid more, and by nature staying up all night just comes much more naturally than staying up all day. Plus there's a definite personality shift from day staff to night staff, and I fall into the latter. <br />
<br />
So here we go: <br />
<br />
<u><span style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>5 Reasons Why Night Staff is Better than Day Staff:</strong></span></u><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUqnEa0rT3DRirMqr4R3s8Ue8QI8808VdTu1pUGOHy2AHVDkgVTFnYoV9fP_p6bcHT9PWuKLw2K-c0cMwQRmsGLhlmuBvbtRcJxoeR-cfhiAFdB23r_IAyUZXMSChHJPC4GCwUP3os8k/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUqnEa0rT3DRirMqr4R3s8Ue8QI8808VdTu1pUGOHy2AHVDkgVTFnYoV9fP_p6bcHT9PWuKLw2K-c0cMwQRmsGLhlmuBvbtRcJxoeR-cfhiAFdB23r_IAyUZXMSChHJPC4GCwUP3os8k/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a><strong>1.) Night staff gets my sense of humor.</strong><br />
<br />
Day shift: <br />
<br />
Nurse on lunch break holding an apple: "Oh darn, I forgot to wash my apple this morning." <br />
Me on lunch break holding an apple: "Oh yeah...me too." <br />
I take a bite. <br />
Nurse: "Wait, aren't you worried about eating a dirty apple?"<br />
Me: "Nah, I'm more worried about the meth I did this morning." <br />
<br />
Silence. <br />
<br />
Example #2: <br />
<br />
Nurse #1: "Oh look, we're getting a patient named Heaven." <br />
Nurse #2: "That's such an interesting name, I haven't heard that before." <br />
Me: "That's totally my stripper name." <br />
<br />
Silence. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOt8F1vp1E1mEF221AsCIVM-bN5Cc-5Njd_87XELJTmcxuYXgAHahvnZS59nk39RSsCgvWQbcRX8vdvuhLeMn-JbbpVFLd0llHo8LfVdMHHXd4HqhlKUu24hHJAVKIUEpQWr1o7QNF1s/s1600/aaaaafe.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOt8F1vp1E1mEF221AsCIVM-bN5Cc-5Njd_87XELJTmcxuYXgAHahvnZS59nk39RSsCgvWQbcRX8vdvuhLeMn-JbbpVFLd0llHo8LfVdMHHXd4HqhlKUu24hHJAVKIUEpQWr1o7QNF1s/s1600/aaaaafe.png" /></a>For the record, I do not do meth and I'm also not a stripper. Night staff laughs at that stuff. Point: nights. <br />
<br />
<strong>2.) Night staff are as close to vampires as you'll get. </strong><br />
<br />
Night staff has no one to impress. We also shriek in the morning when people turn on the lights, and we walk to our cars in awe of this strange thing called "sunlight". Point: nights. <br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>3</strong><strong>.) We make better coffee.</strong> <br />
<br />
Please, point: nights. <br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>4.) Night staff are better at their jobs.</strong> <br />
<br />
Yes, this is a stretch, but I'm going to say it. See, at a psych hospital, we are a part of the "real" hospital, so therefore we have to follow all staffing orders that are hospital wide. To save money, the hospital staffs short on nights. For the rest of the hospital it makes sense. People are sleeping at night. But in psych....oh honey...<br />
<br />
People don't sleep in psych. They are always awake. When you tell someone it's bedtime, there's a good chance they will tell you that they are an orange and you are a carrot and as such they have superiority over you. There's really no way to argue with that. <br />
<br />
Therefore, nightshift has to do the same jobs dayshift does, except with considerably less people. Point: nights. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3C7jVT5JVD5y107djpUMFs8HfBAhz2vY8LVAsL26fBkWn_1xBCy3FR5Ehl5-KN_MFlXpw4QRBkREr-ByUQGH5CVPDuAGztSk6jTOXrCyn-wlK_aNfzdqeQFc1eLFKu0FCCkcZBHoCSU/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3C7jVT5JVD5y107djpUMFs8HfBAhz2vY8LVAsL26fBkWn_1xBCy3FR5Ehl5-KN_MFlXpw4QRBkREr-ByUQGH5CVPDuAGztSk6jTOXrCyn-wlK_aNfzdqeQFc1eLFKu0FCCkcZBHoCSU/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a></div><strong>5.) We look out for each other.</strong> <br />
<br />
There's a million people to fill in for days. But nights? Hardly anyone. If we're short there's a list of about 6 people we can call, and we all know it. Dayshift has the luxury of not coming in for any extra shifts because most likely someone else will cover it. Nights? Not so much. You get called you come to work. There's no one else to call. <br />
<br />
There. I've vented and now I feel better. Also I'm going to bed now.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://to-calm-insanity.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img <="" a="" height="100" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v324/satinxoxo/blog%20buttons/bloghopfridays.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thanksmailcarrier.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q310/christi3715/FriendlyFriday_Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://poshonabudget.com/"><img height="100" src="http://poshonabudget.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/ffc1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.boobiesbabiesandablog.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x419/bbandablog/fufriday.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-53138540598946716982011-09-26T10:02:00.012-06:002011-11-06T12:49:54.052-07:00Fall Fashion Conundrum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8W-ljtJARnGRFcpaaonjuPT4tpe0yGF67ry7a4SHonMvxzyuWNBHGBsGeqqRpJdH8PTKiyfT-Ewxj6p9UNx6iv_hbjvFRdERcrFWjKb3enhrP6uvsUp1ThdRgM8lreCkUIYel5405y4s/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8W-ljtJARnGRFcpaaonjuPT4tpe0yGF67ry7a4SHonMvxzyuWNBHGBsGeqqRpJdH8PTKiyfT-Ewxj6p9UNx6iv_hbjvFRdERcrFWjKb3enhrP6uvsUp1ThdRgM8lreCkUIYel5405y4s/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Ugh, Mail. <br />
<br />
Typically, I enjoy getting mail. I even welcome the familiar stack of "pre-approved" credit card applications that make the bi-weekly journey from my doorstep directly to my trash can. But some days, the awaiting delivery turns out to be my complete undoing, almost as if the mailbox had transformed into Pandora's Box while I was slaving away at a hospital night shift. <br />
<br />
And why the sour attitude? Well, every once in awhile, a fashion brochure (<em>how the hell do they find me?) </em>will turn in up the mail, and it's usually not all that threatening. Granted, the floral day dress on the cover of the spring issue will absolutely not go unnoticed (and will probably end up in my closet), but summer catalogs with "perfect" women in their "perfect" bikini bodies on "perfect" yachts rarely tempt me into digging out my credit card. Typically, I throw them out after nothing more than the casual flip through.<br />
<br />
Until the fall issue, that is. The fall issue, without proper warning and preparation, can be devastating on my budget. <br />
<br />
Fact: I'm a huge sucker for fall clothing. The coats, the boots, the hats, the sweaters...it's all gold. I love the coziness, easy sophistication and simple stylishness of it all. Each article of clothing is meant to wrap you not only in a plush, soft fabric, but also in a feeling of confidence and stylishness. Suddenly, it becomes chic to cover up. The skin-showing overload of summer gives way to the tasteful body-conscious silhouettes of fall. I'm already on the prowl for a long sleeved minidress...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy2bqPckWA2uB4ayv3MjoBNNIMroKO75LYGKtfMC1v1NSpHnenkYvOJDrAhxTOABqHidWw41L_Zip1H19x0cajAD5mwvrQUdrTp9_1QU4EaFULCs9qlsCoysrauE-VI446OKENRbz0Eb8/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy2bqPckWA2uB4ayv3MjoBNNIMroKO75LYGKtfMC1v1NSpHnenkYvOJDrAhxTOABqHidWw41L_Zip1H19x0cajAD5mwvrQUdrTp9_1QU4EaFULCs9qlsCoysrauE-VI446OKENRbz0Eb8/s1600/aaaaafired.png" /></a>And those damn coats and scarves hanging in store windows...brutal. It's safe to say I'm a ridiculous fan; scarves are indeed my kryptonite, and as such, they belong in my closet, adding to my already substantial collection. I've also been craving a red peacoat since I was old enough to figure out what they were. It's always been a fantasy of mine to be the lone lady in red, walking down a silent street of white. I've had my eye on this one (pictured left) for the last two years.<br />
<br />
Not so fast sweaters, you're not off the hook either. Sweaters shout at me from holiday magazine covers, and I feel I absolutely <em>must </em>have one for the upcoming snowed-in nights I'll be spending curled up by the fireplace, on a fur rug, drinking a glass of wine and eating chocolate truffles. See the crazy vignettes my brain creates to justify my purchases? We don't even own a fireplace. Or a fur rug. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmj3_P0j7qF8cxn0OFDllKKTQQs7pHKY8DI_nKgI-gDFbRL-2yeD9W6UXsSfLd0IBvOyYJdk_KoNu-L3TN9fZZUe3cN-dnqlgf4J-ZxyeZsHdlVW59M4UqlBvYAJiyTX4-iQrXKDLlOtE/s1600/aaaac.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmj3_P0j7qF8cxn0OFDllKKTQQs7pHKY8DI_nKgI-gDFbRL-2yeD9W6UXsSfLd0IBvOyYJdk_KoNu-L3TN9fZZUe3cN-dnqlgf4J-ZxyeZsHdlVW59M4UqlBvYAJiyTX4-iQrXKDLlOtE/s1600/aaaac.png" /></a>And boots...oh don't get me started on boots. In my mind the only reason a leaf would fall from a tree is so it could be stepped on by a fashionable knee high boot. Right now I'm obsessed with anything that's worn and weathered. I don't want a new pair like the ones in the magazines (who am I kidding, I'd <em>never </em>turn them down), but I'm craving something that has a story behind it. A pair that looks as though they were formerly worn by a sheepherder in northern Ireland. Preferably with a heel so I can feel appropriately matched with my 6'5" boyfriend, but I'm not too picky. Oh and straps and buckles, lots and lots of straps and buckles, regardless of their uselessness in the real world. <br />
<br />
So while this may be my favorite time of year, it's also my most difficult. We've already canceled the cable and I've gotten a second job, so I'm not about to do something stupid like buy a pair of boots. <br />
<br />
God I love a good pair of boots...maybe just one pair...I've been so good...<br />
<br />
Focus. I need to get through this. Sorry awesome fall coats, boots, hats, sweaters and scarves, but you're just going to have to wait until next year when I can buy you in a thrift store for 1/10 the price. Of course, I do have a <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/04/lesson-4-shop-for-free.html"><span style="color: red;"><strong>closet swap party</strong></span></a> coming up on October 14, so lets just focus on that.<br />
<br />
So tell me, what do you like about the fall?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ftmommyferg.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="The Not-So-Secret Confessions of a First Time Mom" border="0" height="100" src="http://i332.photobucket.com/albums/m335/kayedani/newmondaybutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.kdbuggieboutique.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1044.photobucket.com/albums/b441/kshisley/th_minglemondaybutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.toughcookiemommy.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://img580.imageshack.us/img580/232/bloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://canadianmom-whatsonmymind.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1007.photobucket.com/albums/af192/CEOmomJen/MotivationalMondaysBloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://sweepingme.com/category/blog-hops/"><img height="100" src="http://i1090.photobucket.com/albums/i369/disney5274/nmmbhbutton.gif" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.singleparentretreat.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk189/4MyDesigns/Buttons/spr_bloghop_01a.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.carissagraham.com/search/label/miscellany%20monday"><img height="100" src="http://i617.photobucket.com/albums/tt255/ElvishAuthoress/MMbutton3.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://sumossweetstuff.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6r9QgsC6EHauUFWQvH_h7PnjOqZx6kwIuz0CHVwrn25UUpp4H0ZzsmZZhSdtK5U7fNpWzqsv7UkIiuJqxZzDUyguosuSTsxT2PhyphenhyphenApGGlvZI314W8Vhlet9ob4LbLJQShi7JJm8gxMEe/" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thetypeahousewife.com/search/label/type%20a%20twitter%20monday"><img height="100" src="http://i1111.photobucket.com/albums/h475/ohkeeka/typeatwittermonday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-81685672432947596062011-09-22T05:45:00.001-06:002011-09-22T06:06:25.216-06:00A Sign It's Good Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I had a Jerry Maguire moment today. No, not the "SHOW ME THE MONEY" moment you all are thinking of, but a different one. The clip below should explain it pretty good. </div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/9FN89jWaw8s?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Don't you just <em>hate </em>when that happens? When you're so excited you want to shout it to the world but the next best thing is singing at the top of your lungs. So instead, you have to hunt down an awesome song to sing to and it's then and there that every radio station seems to be collectively running their "sh*tty song of the hour" promotion. One of my favorite songs to sing to? 500 miles, by The Proclaimers. I love the "Da Da Da Da (Da Da Da Da) Da Da Da Da (Da Da Da Da) Da Undela Undela Undela la la la" part. And I'm sure that looks wierd but if you know the song you'll get it. And because I also love HIMYM I'll help you out: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/6E_NQDn6DOQ/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6E_NQDn6DOQ&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6E_NQDn6DOQ&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And why was I so happy? I have no idea. I was on my way home from the gym, had gotten in a pretty impressive workout, and it smelled like fall outside. Also, I've been working a lot on my new travel/food blog and it's finally starting to come around. Plus I've also heard back from a few writing offers too, so I guess I take that back. I do know what I was having a Jerry Maguire moment: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because I was having an effin' good day, that's why. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<a href="http://www.random-dealz.com/search/label/Whimsical%20Wednesday" target="”_blank”"><img height="”100”" src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/tonyaj79/WhimsicalWednesday125x125.jpg" style="height: 100px; width: 100px;" /></a> <a href="http://blogging-hints.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Blogging Hints Catch a Wave Wednesday" height="100" src="http://www.busy-moms-tips.com/images/catch-a-wave-wednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://jembellish.blogspot.com/search/label/creating%20to%20success"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i895.photobucket.com/albums/ac152/creatingtosuccess/blog%20buttons%20-%20Creating%20my%20way%20to%20Success/Jillsbloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://takeitfrom-me.blogspot.com/search/label/Welcome%20Wednesday"><img height="100" src="http://i952.photobucket.com/albums/ae7/KWynder/WelcomeWednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://aboutamom.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1099.photobucket.com/albums/g388/couponinggibsongal/WildWednesdayHop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mommylivingthelifeofriley.com/index.php?s=be%2Bbop%2Ba%2Bblog%2Bhop"><img height="100" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-x7rjIa_suU8/The1N9hy27I/AAAAAAAACgw/VMuBNowpgy8/s800/BeBopABlogHopSmall.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://ratsandmore.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCOyAIGHHzoudHil6fEUJrAJSJulftPh4zbFi8zyPaTcDk9EsDnGXArHMhtSR91Jcy2qo49OBi9te3MTXx_optpV2zamEcO-3gorWweFd0a0uX2rerYJX8CYDQcOoAw_ESiqG8OksWnzfC/s1600/zwobbleoverwedsbutton.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.ihaveacouponforthat.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i883.photobucket.com/albums/ac39/couponscoop/bloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://wahmresourcesite.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOLgJaYTqsXGcHVK7CwKpHQ8lsa1I6zZzY17Q9X2wdXmuUX9_u0kslEsu59ByK77lCVBvdELFSz8yGlbgvd9_r2bFwERQGwJYxO4_nEv4aidd2YFl0YyytXffayyGz1-5ZuqZOnpssiw/s144/Blog%20Hop%20Butterfly%20Button-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://dosweatthesmallstuffblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Thoughtful%20Thursday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1097.photobucket.com/albums/g345/dosweatthesmallstuff/ThoughtfulThursdayBlogHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://happy-go-lucky-harvey.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m13/harveyusn/blog-hop-button-175.gif" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/category/bassgiraffe-linkups" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/buttons/200x200button-thursdaybloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-39320443936848388142011-09-20T09:49:00.004-06:002011-09-20T10:41:03.722-06:00Shameless Plug<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi24z9U6roCFZ-pLGTzsB8xT1bbNryVtaa4gq2BUaUVLsYO5kqOm8zPrcqU9DfVP2cXiO-hJfmIFEkTTG4i1smXRebTP_tpyZDhKpxjZEiMwTgKVwjjXeoo3NxjKYPhi-2P0PPFjrthTo/s1600/my+name+is.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi24z9U6roCFZ-pLGTzsB8xT1bbNryVtaa4gq2BUaUVLsYO5kqOm8zPrcqU9DfVP2cXiO-hJfmIFEkTTG4i1smXRebTP_tpyZDhKpxjZEiMwTgKVwjjXeoo3NxjKYPhi-2P0PPFjrthTo/s1600/my+name+is.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Well just a little update to let everyone know I'll be splitting my blogging time from now on. I'm glad to say I get to be a regular part of the blog associated with the site <a href="http://www.thegoodlifeoncampus.com/"><span style="color: red;"><strong>www.thegoodlifeoncampus.com</strong></span></a>!<br />
<br />
Now typically, when I am asked to blog on behalf of a service or product I run for the hills. Unless, that is, two conditions are present: 1.) I agree with with the premise of the service or product (no one's trying to rip anyone else off or anything), and 2.) I can give my honest opinion. I'm not going to write about how "awesome" a product is if I just threw it out in the front yard and lit it on fire. <br />
<br />
Which is why I can safely say I'm excited to be a part of this project. The goal of the blog (<a href="http://thegoodlifeoncampus.tumblr.com/"><span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>http://thegoodlifeoncampus.tumblr.com</strong></span></a>) is to help students get the most out of their college experience, and what's the best way to do that? By being yourself! The online store is full of quirky, unique dorm decorations, as well as hilarious toys and trinkets (like <a href="http://www.thegoodlifeoncampus.com/Glo-Graffiti-paint-with-light-p/su1012.htm"><span style="color: blue;"><strong>light graffiti</strong></span></a>). I support that. College is about finding yourself and expressing yourself, so I say the more personal touches the better!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG49G5RkC7zK6k5u_FveXIb_YZw1k7F5kCBAspvUqNo6hKunS0HWzqg_U8r8Ehpos1Rs7aJVZbGGz5yzdGeXo4k21v1btrIz9gFdoV35VF3b4NFhFjZ3nfer9gHUOBnL_bUvQURHw8mB0/s1600/be+yourself.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG49G5RkC7zK6k5u_FveXIb_YZw1k7F5kCBAspvUqNo6hKunS0HWzqg_U8r8Ehpos1Rs7aJVZbGGz5yzdGeXo4k21v1btrIz9gFdoV35VF3b4NFhFjZ3nfer9gHUOBnL_bUvQURHw8mB0/s1600/be+yourself.png" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://chicnsavvyreviews.blogspot.com/2010/12/tuesday-blog-hop.html" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z428/kapley/BlogHopTues.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.onlyparentchronicles.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/That_One_Mom/Only%20Parent%20Chronicles%20Blog%20Design/PostItNoteTuesday-OnlyParentChronicles-FINALcopy.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://mommyingonthefly.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i290.photobucket.com/albums/ll269/peekab00o/toes-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sixinthenest.com/search/label/Tuesday"><img height="100" src="http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k432/koulgurl/blogtrail.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-62237674312222080242011-09-13T04:45:00.007-06:002011-09-19T09:21:29.957-06:00Lesson 16: "Interesting" People Are Lame<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmjDkZmtN4Tm4egN2hdcz1OSvybWSzNbvEWVtUwGqiRuXL7yd2pOwpoBZSyClp6wkq9lcTZ1EYIQhAs67UCx-ZtyYaWsa9rx3DaE96RKPj8HuCtWoEiZspslU3ulPXlSpwlF13wQpyvIY/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmjDkZmtN4Tm4egN2hdcz1OSvybWSzNbvEWVtUwGqiRuXL7yd2pOwpoBZSyClp6wkq9lcTZ1EYIQhAs67UCx-ZtyYaWsa9rx3DaE96RKPj8HuCtWoEiZspslU3ulPXlSpwlF13wQpyvIY/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Let's get one thing straight here; the dictionary defines the word 'interesting' as, "Arousing curiosity, attracting or holding attention or provoking thought." The media's definition?<br />
<br />
Well, not that. Contrary to the brainwashed opinion of the general public, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills (or New Jersey, New York, Atlanta, Orange County, Washington D.C., Miami, Fargo, or wherever), <em>are not interesting. </em>Dramatic maybe, but interesting? No.<br />
<br />
To me, the definition of an interesting person is someone who has learned life lessons the hard way, by <em>experiencing </em>them. Someone with a passion for life and the guts to pursue it. A story that starts with, <span style="background-color: #d9ead3;">"Well I totally wanted those pair of shoes but then my friend was like, </span><span style="background-color: #d9ead3;">'Those are hideous,' and I was like, 'Ya, but I want them' and she was like, 'My tongue itches' and I was like,'Your tongue is fat...' "</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">really isn't going to peak my interest for too long.</span> <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdUi1ZFsaX_cYX6b_KxzaJeRHxSgF57nqhUjQdC3KBEnbmjT-rcuReRf8B6mjrXDM7x3nQFvAX0W4d29nedE8XEIQkv0YMUZhFEJIN1xRSC5TBoM7_bJHt3ISt-Xn8eNrzF48ccrPMwQ/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdUi1ZFsaX_cYX6b_KxzaJeRHxSgF57nqhUjQdC3KBEnbmjT-rcuReRf8B6mjrXDM7x3nQFvAX0W4d29nedE8XEIQkv0YMUZhFEJIN1xRSC5TBoM7_bJHt3ISt-Xn8eNrzF48ccrPMwQ/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
One person who <em>is</em> interesting? My mom. She got married when she was 16 and moved to Montana where she trained horses for a living. My mom's been a florist, a waitress, a dog groomer, a single mother, a teacher, a cook, and still owns her own ice cream truck. She was married twice and divorced twice (once to a <em>diagnosed </em>psychopath for 20 years), but she's still never lost her innate warmth and sense of humor. She's always up for anything and she never takes life too seriously. My mom has been through life's twists and turns. She's an <em>interesting </em>person. <br />
<br />
Another of my favorites, of which I'm not as obviously biased, is an 86 year old man with oversized ears and icey blue eyes. For the sake of confidentiality, we'll call him Jack. <br />
<br />
Jack and I met when he was admitted to the psychiatric hospital during one of my nightshifts. Even though he was in the early stages of Alzheimer's, at 6'1"<em> </em>he still had an undeniable presence. One day, while handing him a cup of water, he punched me in the side, bringing me to my knees. After taking some time to gather my thoughts (and resisting the urge to give him a swift kick in the shin), I clumsily made my way to the nurses station positive he'd cracked one of my right ribs. I was informed, however, that I should've been more careful. Had I been given a more accurate report, I would've learned that, back in the day, Jack had been a professional boxer known for his killer left hook. Oh really...<br />
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<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NoXOfu1as-kP2PaAnN539qz4NmXMJZ_M926PNyELEhA7AUfbQrHkLcPeS-ATq3jyeVcItMiEGKklAziPt5Yq_eWx5JiVxLoD97GYydsXqVdEFNLaTqp78jOVI8g_43OY78XtpsRrAUw/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NoXOfu1as-kP2PaAnN539qz4NmXMJZ_M926PNyELEhA7AUfbQrHkLcPeS-ATq3jyeVcItMiEGKklAziPt5Yq_eWx5JiVxLoD97GYydsXqVdEFNLaTqp78jOVI8g_43OY78XtpsRrAUw/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a>Turns out, Jack had been more than a professional boxer. He'd first been a professional baseball player until he was drafted for WWII. Then, while he was in the Navy, he took up boxing. After the war, he went pro (where he met his wife, who was <em>also </em>a professional boxer). His father, mother, and two brothers had all been musicians (violin, cello, saxophone, and piano). According to his wife, Jack himself played a mean fiddle, which he showed when his entire family (among others) performed for president Truman in 1950. </div><br />
And he was funny. His wit was the inappropriate kind I find so hilarious. Once, when one of his sons visited: <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #f4cccc; color: black;">Jack: "Who the hell are you?"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: black;">John: "Dad, it's me, John."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f4cccc; color: black;">Jack: "No, I know my son John, and you're not him. For God's sake man, you have breasts." </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: black;">John: "Well, you're going blind. And besides, maybe I like them."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f4cccc; color: black;">Jack: "I can see why. You look good in a 'B' cup."</span> <br />
<br />
He also gave me my boyfriend's all-time favorite quote: <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Me: "So what did you like more, boxing or baseball?"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">Jack: "Baseball, always baseball. A real ball player never likes anything more than baseball. Hell when he can't play anymore he coaches, and when he can't coach anymore he just hangs around and rakes the field. A dirt diamond is the best place on earth."</span><br />
<br />
He told me stories of the games he played in, the crowds he boxed for and the people he fought alongside in battle. He described places he'd been, the foods he'd eaten, the first time he laid eyes on his wife, and the feel of a fiddle that had been handcrafted just for him. He told me of the night he got drunk in an Irish pub and, "...won a fight over a lass that turned out to be a fella." Another time, he won $6,400 on a dog race only to lose it all in a poker game with Doyle Brunson. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSiEsdj4eDgho17BB3GT10B2ipJSZ_OAZm2ZaY8K7uc99QvhP7BhcAUe2SdvZCT94aT7vHpgrfM-EUW0vR5QrcG-uKTObQaRzOCCBkVV4KVQyFRhPHIYNAPYs9nsJHeKtBFry9Cvz-08/s1600/aaaaat.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSiEsdj4eDgho17BB3GT10B2ipJSZ_OAZm2ZaY8K7uc99QvhP7BhcAUe2SdvZCT94aT7vHpgrfM-EUW0vR5QrcG-uKTObQaRzOCCBkVV4KVQyFRhPHIYNAPYs9nsJHeKtBFry9Cvz-08/s1600/aaaaat.png" /></a>Listening to him tell stories, just as listening to my mother tell stories, is an adventure in itself. People like these two, you see, are <em>interesting. </em>The media, however, would probably classify both Jack and my mother as "boring." <br />
<br />
So strange that the opinions of pop tarts and reality stars are valued over those who have real life experiences. I know I'll never see the paparazzi outside my mom's house, questioning her about the latest trends in pantsuits, but I'll take her stories over a fake-baked camera-hungry bimbo any day. Real people have been through real struggles and real triumphs, and the emotions that come with those experiences cannot be scripted. <br />
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Someday, I hope to be an interesting person myself. Or better yet, I hope to be a "boring" one. "Interesting" people are lame, it's the "boring" ones that are having all the fun. <br />
<br />
Who are your favorite "boring" people?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kdbuggieboutique.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1044.photobucket.com/albums/b441/kshisley/th_minglemondaybutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.toughcookiemommy.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://img580.imageshack.us/img580/232/bloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.carissagraham.com/search/label/miscellany%20monday"><img height="100" src="http://i617.photobucket.com/albums/tt255/ElvishAuthoress/MMbutton3.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://sumossweetstuff.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6r9QgsC6EHauUFWQvH_h7PnjOqZx6kwIuz0CHVwrn25UUpp4H0ZzsmZZhSdtK5U7fNpWzqsv7UkIiuJqxZzDUyguosuSTsxT2PhyphenhyphenApGGlvZI314W8Vhlet9ob4LbLJQShi7JJm8gxMEe/" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://motherofpearlitis.net/category/monkey-do-monday/"><img height="100" src="http://i305.photobucket.com/albums/nn226/skinsgaloreandmore/bkg/monkeydo.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.onlyparentchronicles.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/That_One_Mom/Only%20Parent%20Chronicles%20Blog%20Design/PostItNoteTuesday-OnlyParentChronicles-FINALcopy.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.magicalmouseschoolhouse.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_D7ftEAtWGwO933SpL0shwOZMTTGH6t53IZXfiHjj7rmjVQeT6kHfqv06Tot_f4I4FxiCSITLiciVs2baNVjCp0Zb4qcd1lvdSPyXFCT0cqcyNReIcJ1VIh3LzQPKgbfYMu5My1szmk/s200/Tiggerific+Tuesday+no+border.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.busy-moms-tips-blog.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://www.busy-moms-tips.com/images/tuesday%20blog%20hop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://poshonabudget.com/"><img height="100" src="http://poshonabudget.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/tfc1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sixinthenest.com/search/label/Tuesday"><img height="100" src="http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k432/koulgurl/blogtrail.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.random-dealz.com/search/label/Whimsical%20Wednesday" target="”_blank”"><img height="”100”" src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/tonyaj79/WhimsicalWednesday125x125.jpg" style="height: 100px; width: 100px;" /></a> <a href="http://momsonlinegaragesale.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc206/BusyBee68/Iheartblogginghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifeaccordingtodamaris.com/"><img alt="Give a Hoot Wednesday Blog Hop" border="0" height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/2zyld28.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://aboutamom.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1099.photobucket.com/albums/g388/couponinggibsongal/WildWednesdayHop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mommylivingthelifeofriley.com/index.php?s=be%2Bbop%2Ba%2Bblog%2Bhop"><img height="100" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-x7rjIa_suU8/The1N9hy27I/AAAAAAAACgw/VMuBNowpgy8/s800/BeBopABlogHopSmall.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://ratsandmore.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCOyAIGHHzoudHil6fEUJrAJSJulftPh4zbFi8zyPaTcDk9EsDnGXArHMhtSR91Jcy2qo49OBi9te3MTXx_optpV2zamEcO-3gorWweFd0a0uX2rerYJX8CYDQcOoAw_ESiqG8OksWnzfC/s1600/zwobbleoverwedsbutton.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://mommyonlyhastwohands.blogspot.com/search/label/Hump%20Day"><img height="100" src="http://i290.photobucket.com/albums/ll263/Lynhea/Humpdaybloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-59701407599569623022011-09-11T03:50:00.004-06:002011-09-13T09:42:55.458-06:009/11 A Different Perspective<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsxOEhe50iGjYWDuXbtziMZjQqreTgjLMiYeAyNA8Q8FSDO2Zhix1n-_gInRYHTk1oQhCS1NeLb0ir1pOzyuUHafImeXLB4TLfc9fviaAANZl1gz9KodFM3abLDUMKbzn9VmHKaPjK9A/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsxOEhe50iGjYWDuXbtziMZjQqreTgjLMiYeAyNA8Q8FSDO2Zhix1n-_gInRYHTk1oQhCS1NeLb0ir1pOzyuUHafImeXLB4TLfc9fviaAANZl1gz9KodFM3abLDUMKbzn9VmHKaPjK9A/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
When I first started blogging, my boyfriend told me, "I can't wait until you get your first hater comment. Then you'll really know you've made it." He was joking, of course, but it's true. Posting what the vast majority of people already think is essentially playing it safe. No fresh perspective, no thought-provoking dialogue to trigger a novel viewpoint in a new (or familiar) reader.<br />
<br />
Well having said that, it should also be perfectly clear that I have no intention of offending anyone through my writing, and if this post seems offensive, in any way, I apologize ahead of time. <br />
<br />
On September 11, 2001, a group of 19 militant extremists took the fate of innocent people into their hands, resulting in what is generally now referred to as "The Terrorist Attacks". For those who were there, on site witnessing the pandamonium first hand, I can't even begin to imagine the feelings of chaos and helplessness. The rest of us, however, stayed glued to our televions sets, radios and phones. We assumed the uniform pose of confusion and disbelief; our hands covering our mouths and our bodies huddled together with family, friends, or complete strangers. We watched, stunned and united in the terror of the events unfolding before us. Soon the twin towers fell, and along with them our seemingly impermeable sense of security. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJX68_VqobZMWKMc07_jor7O-XNjZ_BltOGPwP47oaK7LZh8_9nea1Fo81Z-sj-k1nUtqySINO3vld5N3mdv2uD5jzIu9W80ZNzwtGKf5CjQM_IRFSg158CL9a2zRcLrZC1yd7uUOcxg/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJX68_VqobZMWKMc07_jor7O-XNjZ_BltOGPwP47oaK7LZh8_9nea1Fo81Z-sj-k1nUtqySINO3vld5N3mdv2uD5jzIu9W80ZNzwtGKf5CjQM_IRFSg158CL9a2zRcLrZC1yd7uUOcxg/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJX68_VqobZMWKMc07_jor7O-XNjZ_BltOGPwP47oaK7LZh8_9nea1Fo81Z-sj-k1nUtqySINO3vld5N3mdv2uD5jzIu9W80ZNzwtGKf5CjQM_IRFSg158CL9a2zRcLrZC1yd7uUOcxg/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a>I'm sure everyone has their own recollection of where they were and what they were doing when the planes hit. Personally, I was 16, just waking up to go to school. My radio alarm went off, and in my sleepy haze I wondered into the living room and informed my mom of the radio claims that a plane had just crashed into the Pentagon. She inhaled sharply, and we turned on the television. We stared at the destruction; speechless. <br />
<br />
At school I joined my classmates as we went from class to class, our eyes fixed on every television. Ironically, the only teacher that turned it off was my U.S. History teacher, so we could "get some work done". <br />
<br />
This event has no doubt caused unimaginable grief and despair to a vast number of people. In some way, whether large or smalle, we were all affected. Some were killed or injured and some had family or friends who were killed or injured. Many still endure the PTSD that often follows a traumatic event, not to mention the lives that were lost or forever changed by the ensuing war. <br />
<br />
This is all irrefutable, and by no means do I intend to make the degree of these peoples' suffering seem any less severe than it was (and still is). My point is this: we, the United States, are the fortunate ones. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwxt5kh90kmjisr21zFaIXo6mjnt7nN4j3Q2M17NCCroyDt3RnOtMNrRxhFRkdGgHKfkwUuS_CABVlF5Qs70AiM2d_RcLL4_vNKs4NJ_J8hkq6f1f4WCQsNWu60ZKousckYdv6l-yIm4/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwxt5kh90kmjisr21zFaIXo6mjnt7nN4j3Q2M17NCCroyDt3RnOtMNrRxhFRkdGgHKfkwUuS_CABVlF5Qs70AiM2d_RcLL4_vNKs4NJ_J8hkq6f1f4WCQsNWu60ZKousckYdv6l-yIm4/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a></div>Attacks like these occur daily, if not hourly, in some countries. Yet in the United States, they are reason for a national holiday. We have one day a year, where we remember the violence and fear of that one other particular day 10 years ago. In some countries, (like the very countries we are currently at war with), they don't have time to stop and remember. To recollect where they were and what they were doing "that one time" when terrorists attacked their home. In some countries, "that one time" doesn't exist. Violence, destruction and terror is their past, present, and future. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVHlDzSsDn557pfXKN3zcQ5xNvrsA2Jzo7Zdx8KjzkKNGBn4BKrnuecDD-8oF4jFjPUL0iZGPl1LBI6-mR5FYubADOIkseUEOwU9m5z-2iOSLDMK7YdM_mN89SDOxrtjiZUrq27gjyLw/s1600/aaaaat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVHlDzSsDn557pfXKN3zcQ5xNvrsA2Jzo7Zdx8KjzkKNGBn4BKrnuecDD-8oF4jFjPUL0iZGPl1LBI6-mR5FYubADOIkseUEOwU9m5z-2iOSLDMK7YdM_mN89SDOxrtjiZUrq27gjyLw/s1600/aaaaat.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>How fortunate am I, that I don't live in a country like Somalia, the generally thought to be most corrupt country in the world? Or Chad, where you are most likely to die as a child? I don't live in a state of constant pain, corruption and fear. I don't have to worry about a renegade lighting my house on fire, being murdered for showing too much of my wrists, or the possibility of my future child being kidnapped. I don't have to worry about my future son being turned into a soldier of war at 9 years old or my niece being used as a sex slave. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDCRocnesiqtMO1w9OvzRAFtUeSdTmFDpjz28YZVJaW8_cnFemvs-95aCqUl_XbxkxiRVuU8KmWF_3_ovc6zj_RmCe_LuD7wuo8HJZfBIMd1w7WX02Z63-XpS17Z6-rSHHm63_WhcFR4/s1600/aaaababy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDCRocnesiqtMO1w9OvzRAFtUeSdTmFDpjz28YZVJaW8_cnFemvs-95aCqUl_XbxkxiRVuU8KmWF_3_ovc6zj_RmCe_LuD7wuo8HJZfBIMd1w7WX02Z63-XpS17Z6-rSHHm63_WhcFR4/s1600/aaaababy.png" /></a></div><br />
What happened was an incredibly cruel moment in my country's history, but when I think of it, I try to think of all that I am fortunate for now. I know death, violence and destruction still occur in places in America, but they do not consistently occur on the scale we witnessed that day.<br />
<br />
The 9/11 attacks have taught me to be grateful for the country I currently live in. Grateful that similar attacks do not happen here on a daily basis, grateful that we have the technology to be able to broadcast and inform others throughout the nation. Above all, I'm grateful that we have the means to rebuild, and grateful that I am here, in my nice warm bed, healthy, safe, and blogging. <br />
<br />
How did 9/11 affect you?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/subscriber-sunday-blog-hop//"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Subscriber-Sunday.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.3psmama.com/"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i846.photobucket.com/albums/ab22/tarapaige1/cupcake1-1-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.susiebhomemaker.com/search/label/WWD" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i831.photobucket.com/albums/zz236/sbottone/WWD1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://markgillianaksel.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih67nNdvHCEDPwDuaXDDt6x-LsYrJTlcGqHmAg0kmrZR-othP84bhbeDYARa6sMQ3dkX0tE0SGHcwZdKOW32pST1-SrPgRAKpHrvewuTMFRDsNC2Z8clhW3HOYUIUeip-ougiIe1wNLHQN/s1600/Sundae+Hop+150.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-81856911725015950382011-09-09T11:41:00.004-06:002011-09-13T06:56:27.927-06:00Lesson 15: Know Your Weaknesses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvGl2N9KSvyVx7TaiqWaICAjRBthlwZs1Jrl_Iagn6yTx8cKeeJultjlsGsp4MpaKF4U6PNQClfCOe76Ak5pnTs_2hJlpJ-DwHsVZwTk1KYmX6anq_u2BrRuMI2W9lvx6asrjHWm4EZ8/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvGl2N9KSvyVx7TaiqWaICAjRBthlwZs1Jrl_Iagn6yTx8cKeeJultjlsGsp4MpaKF4U6PNQClfCOe76Ak5pnTs_2hJlpJ-DwHsVZwTk1KYmX6anq_u2BrRuMI2W9lvx6asrjHWm4EZ8/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a></div><br />
For most of us - scratch that - <em>all</em> of us, there is at least one situation that not only tests our ability to make our own decisions, but proves we're completely lacking in it. A specific circumstance that, when the conditions are duplicated time and time again, we perform the exact same action, regardless of any preconceived plan. <br />
<br />
"Not I," I can hear you muttering under your breath. Sorry, but I'm not buyin' it. You're just as vulnerable as I am. I actually like to think I'm pretty good at exercising that whole 'free will' concept, but because I am already sensing your growing skepticism before I've hardly completed my second paragraph I'm willing to give a few personal examples in order to shed some light on my end of the argument. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiob_AEVEiU4LUsSyoOChFYvGon9KrXZqxh3Xpkqu3-V_1k1UZS3roPhBm5TJD3ZE5Ch76Bx9LTDMtE800_dgeLVw_Xoatc0d86Gb710vbXYR2v5UPAfopMfHTig3Pq1EzGNeJRSccDSgQ/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiob_AEVEiU4LUsSyoOChFYvGon9KrXZqxh3Xpkqu3-V_1k1UZS3roPhBm5TJD3ZE5Ch76Bx9LTDMtE800_dgeLVw_Xoatc0d86Gb710vbXYR2v5UPAfopMfHTig3Pq1EzGNeJRSccDSgQ/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a>For instance, if I at any time I discover a piano within walking distance, I <em>will play</em> that piano. If a stray cat comes within a 20 block radius of my current location, I <em>will</em> <em>find</em> that cat and I <em>will</em> <em>pet</em> that cat. If at any time I find myself within reasonable proximity to cake, a small portion of that cake <em>will be missing</em> by the time I leave. These things are entirely out of my hands, people. It's cause and effect. Just as simple as that. <br />
<br />
Still shaking your head in denial? How about when you're at a friend's house and there seems to be some kind of food preparation taking place. Do you consistently weasel yourself into performing a certain cooking task? Like chopping? Or mixing? Or taste-testing the brownie batter/cookie dough? Right, that's what I thought. <br />
<br />
So now that we're on the same page, I'd like to share with you the specific item that causes an avalanche of chaos the moment I come in contact with it. My own personal 'life landmine', if you will. <br />
<br />
Last year was my most recent encounter. It was a random Saturday afternoon and I found myself in a Barnes & Noble, browsing the shelves for a book to entertain myself with until I felt like doing something more productive. Just killin' time on a lazy Saturday, that's all. Frolicking about...doo-doo-dee-doo...just a lookin' and a readin'...not hurtin' anybody...<br />
<br />
AhhhhhI'mlying. I lied. Just now. Sorry. Spoken like a true addict I've sugar-coated my story to make it seem more innocent than it is. But I can't lie to you, faithful follower. You're just so damn pure... <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2dfpZrbXedcLahDUn8LYY0uiAj5EB_dcP15a67aWQUr026BmevRYawuaqV_dtG5-t4y-vRgs5dZ7jlUIM-UuQmt8z93j0ivz_zVcNK_wXikXyn0ccJh3EWVRBs1zbdKVJyAwmLAboew/s1600/aaaaat.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2dfpZrbXedcLahDUn8LYY0uiAj5EB_dcP15a67aWQUr026BmevRYawuaqV_dtG5-t4y-vRgs5dZ7jlUIM-UuQmt8z93j0ivz_zVcNK_wXikXyn0ccJh3EWVRBs1zbdKVJyAwmLAboew/s1600/aaaaat.png" /></a>You see I never just casually "end up" at Barnes & Noble. I go there with a specific purpose, and once I <em>am</em> there, I never just nonchalantly drift among the various genres, letting my interest rise and fall depending on the selection before me. I more or less stall, attempting to navigate in a strategic way that allows me to "accidentally" arrive at the giant wall in the back left corner. "Act natural," I tell myself. But I can't act natural, I'm too excited. That wall, you see, is the "forbidden section".<br />
<br />
The "forbidden section" is the travel section. And on that wall, at the very top, is a book that is completely off limits. In my mind, I describe it as about four feet tall and two feet wide. A monster on the thrown that is the top shelf. It radiates a soft comforting music that draws me in like a moth to a bug zapper. Oh yeah, and it glows in the dark. <br />
<br />
Okay in real life it's nothing all that fancy, but this is <em>my</em> story so that's irrelevant. It's the National Geographic book <strong>Journey's of a Lifetime: 500 of the World's Greatest Trips</strong>. It's honestly not even allowed in the house. I would be completely broke if it were, my savings account having been drained to purchase plane tickets and pepper spray. But in Barnes & Noble, it sits on that back wall, beckoning to me; the staff completely oblivious to the havoc it wreaks on my imagination. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcO9R8Ln8GPWwsC12LbBpRPP8HtMjQCXUeUL6SBs7NrbXHrwRymiCTnpKVTvQkq1xxWYVXHlkWl0zZ51ZF3Rk-nfuhH-s_xA3yNFeIww2L5svY1nGxRyzyV5SoJyOZdPP0QEeFjOgjrU/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcO9R8Ln8GPWwsC12LbBpRPP8HtMjQCXUeUL6SBs7NrbXHrwRymiCTnpKVTvQkq1xxWYVXHlkWl0zZ51ZF3Rk-nfuhH-s_xA3yNFeIww2L5svY1nGxRyzyV5SoJyOZdPP0QEeFjOgjrU/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a></div><br />
The last time I saw it, I texted my boyfriend to let him know of my dishonorable intentions: <br />
<br />
Me: I found a very bad thing. <br />
Boyfriend: Um...what's that?<br />
Me: I'm in Barnes 'n' Noble. <br />
Boyfriend: Marlee, put the book down, and slowly back away. <br />
Me: I can almost reach it. <br />
Boyfriend: It's dangerous. <br />
Me: It's so pretty...<br />
Boyfriend: Marlee...<br />
Me: It has PICTURES! <br />
Boyfriend: On my way. <br />
<br />
And 20 minutes later I was rescued. <br />
<br />
Someday I will own that book. It's not like it's incredibly expensive or anything, it's just something I can't have at the moment. My impulsive nature being as strong as it is, there's no telling what would happen if it were being consistently provoked with pictures of gardens in the south of France or stunning landscapes of New Zealand. No, that's just not a good combination. So for now I wait. <br />
<br />
And what about you? Do you have any 'life landmines' that you're aware of?<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://designitchic.blogspot.com/search/label/Boost%20My%20Blog%20Friday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i618.photobucket.com/albums/tt262/designitchic/47102d/8471020.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mrs-marine.com/"><img height="100" source="blank" src="http://i107.photobucket.com/albums/m292/PatriciaG79/StalkHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://to-calm-insanity.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img <="" a="" height="100" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v324/satinxoxo/blog%20buttons/bloghopfridays.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thanksmailcarrier.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q310/christi3715/FriendlyFriday_Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.weidknecht.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1200.photobucket.com/albums/bb334/Weidknecht/weekendhopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifewithtwinsandadramaqueen.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1096.photobucket.com/albums/g338/LifeTiwnsNaDramaQueen/Decorated%20images/Rainbows.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.smartandtrendymoms.com/search/label/socialparade" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy64/smartandtrendymoms/Socialparade-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://theblogentourage.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i68.photobucket.com/albums/i37/billiejean0310/saturdaycrazedfan.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.momvstheboys.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i933.photobucket.com/albums/ad176/momvstheboys/facebookfriday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.boobiesbabiesandablog.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x419/bbandablog/fufriday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://mamato3blessings.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Lots of Lovin' Weekend Blog Hop" border="0" height="100" src="http://i264.photobucket.com/albums/ii177/jaydenandsethsmommy/bunnybloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.measuringflower.com/search/label/Stop%20and%20Stumble"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i1202.photobucket.com/albums/bb374/MeasuringFlower/stopandstumblebutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://confessionsofavi3tbabe.com/search/label/So%20Followed%20Saturday" target="_blank"><img alt="So Followed Saturday" height="100" src="http://i56.tinypic.com/2hxsleb.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div><div align="center"></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-28287135585293732732011-09-06T03:44:00.006-06:002011-09-08T02:16:50.681-06:00Lesson 14: Go For It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXs-pXeTMpoKYsnFTsHpBeZBsUTCmngQPRVbbVMYYRMUPvRix0QSrsxb7XqzSAt5tPAJVIt9ht_Bk0hyphenhyphenZgLOU0xcBp5yk_vrRDWRmFWcoThtpZ-a7bkxgQdrg7r5eVof_cDlinJ7mxcTs/s1600/gap.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXs-pXeTMpoKYsnFTsHpBeZBsUTCmngQPRVbbVMYYRMUPvRix0QSrsxb7XqzSAt5tPAJVIt9ht_Bk0hyphenhyphenZgLOU0xcBp5yk_vrRDWRmFWcoThtpZ-a7bkxgQdrg7r5eVof_cDlinJ7mxcTs/s1600/gap.bmp" /></a></div><br />
Fun fact: I've never seen an episode of Jersey Shore. <em>Ever. </em><br />
<br />
But I have watched the Monarch Butterfly Migration countless times, mentally putting myself in central Mexico when they take off in the millions. I also can't tell you what the latest fashion trend is, but I can quote you airline tickets to any continent at any time of year, because the last time I checked was probably less than an hour ago. And I wouldn't recognize Kim Kardashian if she hijacked my car, but I'd probably run down a random man from 100 yards away because my vision-flawed eyes convinced me it was Anthony Bourdain from the Travel Channel's <em>No Reservations.</em> Personally, I'd think I were doing him a favor. I'm sarcastic, he's sarcastic. He's funny, I <em>think </em>I'm funny. He'd want to meet me, right?<br />
<br />
Er, right. Plus he kind of has my dream job, traveling around the world documenting his experiences with food and culture, all the while narrating with the clever sense of humor I find so brilliant. Ah the skill of storytelling, of connecting.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5YAHGNflodNPLqghUKmxkAj8avJ4POTsdYH4rQVvMukK6qoIdL6gm0lZyBzY4A7owlEPWWJiGeRczto15wBHfyl-RMKhAng37S013cCHs7SbuurTO1aCopjQUYnm4BeAZFD4itdjL7E/s1600/no+reservations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5YAHGNflodNPLqghUKmxkAj8avJ4POTsdYH4rQVvMukK6qoIdL6gm0lZyBzY4A7owlEPWWJiGeRczto15wBHfyl-RMKhAng37S013cCHs7SbuurTO1aCopjQUYnm4BeAZFD4itdjL7E/s1600/no+reservations.jpg" /></a></div>And that's what I want to do. If you've checked in on me from time to time you may have witnessed first-hand my difficult realization that the office-bound, paperwork-flooded career I've been pursuing in counseling is, in fact, a <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-11-blessing-in-disguise.html"><strong><span style="color: red;">terrible fit</span></strong></a> for me. On top of it, I've been up countless nights, giving in to the guilt and shame brought on by thoughts of my impressive student loan history being used for something I was never even passionate about in the first place. I feel as if I'm being snobbish and picky, like I've spent $15,000 on a new car only to refuse to drive it because the color green just "isn't my taste". Here we are in an economy where jobs are few and far between, and I've got a leg up on the competition and I'm not going to take it? <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/am-i-normal.html"><strong><span style="color: red;">What's wrong with me?</span></strong></a><br />
<br />
Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. It's taken a lot of tears to accept the fact that the path I've been following was started by someone else, but that doesn't mean I'm condemned to it. Furthermore, it doesn't mean I should feel guilty about deviating from it. And the end result? I feel <em>liberated. </em><br />
<br />
This is the first time I have actually felt excited about what I might be doing for a living. The kinds of jobs I sought out in high school (photojournalism, cake decorator, florist) are the creative, fast-paced, hands-on jobs I not only loved, <em>but was good at too.</em><br />
<br />
<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RPLBLmx-yWLNGIgpV5i6vIqqf0B-Vtkud0JN-9vYXaQUFS7YsXOC7C3QLm5UzP-uSgS5Bd2ZQiRoXtQtmF0y64FdiH_80eAl6Tb8-1oa4BxovwglBJzzIYlEsdYPqymPPWeBGd8BLHY/s1600/change.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RPLBLmx-yWLNGIgpV5i6vIqqf0B-Vtkud0JN-9vYXaQUFS7YsXOC7C3QLm5UzP-uSgS5Bd2ZQiRoXtQtmF0y64FdiH_80eAl6Tb8-1oa4BxovwglBJzzIYlEsdYPqymPPWeBGd8BLHY/s1600/change.jpg" /></a>So lately, I've been working with a photographer in town, for free. She's incredibly helpful, she's passionate, and she <em>really </em>knows what she's doing. The information I'm learning from her is priceless. And a bonus? She was in a similar situation as myself. Switched from her RN to photography after a realizing she <em>hated </em>her current career, and never looked back. Makes me feel right at home. </div><br />
In the meantime, I'm still working per diem night shifts at the hospital, which pays fairly well and allows me to make my own schedule. As an added bonus, on slow nights (like tonight), it allows me the freedom to research <em>in depth </em>information. <br />
<br />
Like how I might go about getting hired as a writer for a local newspaper or magazine (or just intern there), and making sure the camera I want is the right one for me. <br />
<br />
Oh and which camera is that, you ask? The same camera I've had my eye on for the last two years: the Canon EOS 7D. (In reality, I want the Canon 5D Mark II but let's be honest people, it's going take another year <em>minimum </em>to save for that sucker.) But at least I know the cheaper alternative is a good match. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7sJiu4zEodoJfSUI-ziFxXP6rrsDVJITPn_G7VMkBaA89GMs_50C6FKacNrCJ8FWS-jbA0IJ4LeAWbAETrg4hPHz5-tC8818C1vN0YmLGUHMwXjrdSw_QiYdfSQ7l4L9NxM3UPNJBik/s1600/camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7sJiu4zEodoJfSUI-ziFxXP6rrsDVJITPn_G7VMkBaA89GMs_50C6FKacNrCJ8FWS-jbA0IJ4LeAWbAETrg4hPHz5-tC8818C1vN0YmLGUHMwXjrdSw_QiYdfSQ7l4L9NxM3UPNJBik/s1600/camera.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>So for all the negativity that seems to be surrounding my situation, I feel I'm actually pretty lucky. I know the gear I want (I've researched it thoroughly) and I'm excited about the idea of gaining experience writing in the "real world". As an added bonus, I know my education is not going to waste. My training in counseling (e.g. knowing the right way to phrase questions to allow someone to open up) has given me an edge when it comes to interviewing people. Hmm, maybe someday I'll be so lucky as to trade verbal punches with a grimy politician of some kind...yes I think I would like that very much.<br />
<br />
So consider yourself warned, Anthony. While I may not be gunning for your job just yet, I am attempting to loosely follow in your footsteps of sharing other's experiences through the art of storytelling, in whatever way that may be. Oh and if we ever do meet? Watch out, I'd like to think I'm pretty damn hilarious myself.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://mommyingonthefly.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i290.photobucket.com/albums/ll269/peekab00o/toes-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.boobiesbabiesandablog.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x419/bbandablog/fufriday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.onlyparentchronicles.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/That_One_Mom/Only%20Parent%20Chronicles%20Blog%20Design/PostItNoteTuesday-OnlyParentChronicles-FINALcopy.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://momsonlinegaragesale.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc206/BusyBee68/Iheartblogginghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://blogging-hints.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Blogging Hints Catch a Wave Wednesday" height="100" src="http://www.busy-moms-tips.com/images/catch-a-wave-wednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://jembellish.blogspot.com/search/label/creating%20to%20success"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i895.photobucket.com/albums/ac152/creatingtosuccess/blog%20buttons%20-%20Creating%20my%20way%20to%20Success/Jillsbloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://takeitfrom-me.blogspot.com/search/label/Welcome%20Wednesday"><img height="100" src="http://i952.photobucket.com/albums/ae7/KWynder/WelcomeWednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifeaccordingtodamaris.com/"><img alt="Give a Hoot Wednesday Blog Hop" border="0" height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/2zyld28.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://wahmresourcesite.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOLgJaYTqsXGcHVK7CwKpHQ8lsa1I6zZzY17Q9X2wdXmuUX9_u0kslEsu59ByK77lCVBvdELFSz8yGlbgvd9_r2bFwERQGwJYxO4_nEv4aidd2YFl0YyytXffayyGz1-5ZuqZOnpssiw/s144/Blog%20Hop%20Butterfly%20Button-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.savedbylovecreations.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q304/johnnie231/ThriftyThurs.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://dosweatthesmallstuffblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Thoughtful%20Thursday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1097.photobucket.com/albums/g345/dosweatthesmallstuff/ThoughtfulThursdayBlogHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/category/bassgiraffe-linkups" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/buttons/200x200button-thursdaybloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-89911798869578863272011-09-05T10:34:00.003-06:002011-09-12T09:04:37.999-06:00New Page: Weight Loss Community<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuLLoC965LEGOg28FSRPEfijQ7neRZNwaRsZ9-UTqXSR3r2vKz5jLyPfnkUQfQmPFVv9JhjznvxszaBNxuzJhPWr0_5nBwTYj-h97aQLIMdn95q8sB-1nCKl6qJDR7ac-EZQqLTWITYU/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuLLoC965LEGOg28FSRPEfijQ7neRZNwaRsZ9-UTqXSR3r2vKz5jLyPfnkUQfQmPFVv9JhjznvxszaBNxuzJhPWr0_5nBwTYj-h97aQLIMdn95q8sB-1nCKl6qJDR7ac-EZQqLTWITYU/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
In this post, I explained that I am currently trying to lose 20 lbs within 62 days. Recently, I've gotten so many comments and emails about people who want to join in along with me, that I've decided to do just that; make a way for people to join in! <br />
<br />
So I'm making a new page for all of us! I'll update it daily as I update my own progress. Just email me or comment with your name (or code name), height/weight, goals, and progress, and I'll add you to the display!<br />
<br />
Oh and if I don't hear from you after a while? I'll email you to check in, and see how everything is going. Hopefully it'll help to keep everyone on track. Actually, let me know if you want to have your email displayed I'll even leave a spot available for it. Think of it as your own little healthy community. We'll be each other's fan base and support system! <br />
<br />
I'll make the page as soon as I get a few more emails to get everything set up. Let's see how this goes!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ftmommyferg.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="The Not-So-Secret Confessions of a First Time Mom" border="0" height="100" src="http://i332.photobucket.com/albums/m335/kayedani/newmondaybutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.toughcookiemommy.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://img580.imageshack.us/img580/232/bloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.singleparentretreat.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk189/4MyDesigns/Buttons/spr_bloghop_01a.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.carissagraham.com/search/label/miscellany%20monday"><img height="100" src="http://i617.photobucket.com/albums/tt255/ElvishAuthoress/MMbutton3.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://sumossweetstuff.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6r9QgsC6EHauUFWQvH_h7PnjOqZx6kwIuz0CHVwrn25UUpp4H0ZzsmZZhSdtK5U7fNpWzqsv7UkIiuJqxZzDUyguosuSTsxT2PhyphenhyphenApGGlvZI314W8Vhlet9ob4LbLJQShi7JJm8gxMEe/" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://motherofpearlitis.net/category/monkey-do-monday/"><img height="100" src="http://i305.photobucket.com/albums/nn226/skinsgaloreandmore/bkg/monkeydo.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thetypeahousewife.com/search/label/type%20a%20twitter%20monday"><img height="100" src="http://i1111.photobucket.com/albums/h475/ohkeeka/typeatwittermonday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.homemakeronadime.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i971.photobucket.com/albums/ae194/homemakeronadime/creativeblogbuttonjpg.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://chunkygoddess.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bbbUtlcUdrk/TmujeaFBe6I/AAAAAAAAH38/DKYXFNyjZdE/s300/nomoremuffintophop.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-32038466214584556992011-09-02T02:02:00.002-06:002011-09-02T02:25:16.064-06:00Lesson 13: Reality Hurts<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VjLfb41pQPDakvU-yhUsjGcACjTiIZXW6k5w5uYaq911jlpiJNdfVK-JmqrqIzCRzjfuruRwqucmjgNR2Qlbc4r3RFBI4s74o49Q_0yEp7QKt29jTG79fHge7RFqNXuncFv36FeUq1k/s1600/imagesCA69W67I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VjLfb41pQPDakvU-yhUsjGcACjTiIZXW6k5w5uYaq911jlpiJNdfVK-JmqrqIzCRzjfuruRwqucmjgNR2Qlbc4r3RFBI4s74o49Q_0yEp7QKt29jTG79fHge7RFqNXuncFv36FeUq1k/s320/imagesCA69W67I.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Well reality hit pretty hard this week. See our rent is due by the 5th, and since our roommate moved out in August that means our rent this month is double what it was last month. Combine that with the fact that I lost my job, and we're looking at some serious cutbacks. Granted, I'm still working at my old job (I never officially quit when I was recently hired) but it's per diem, meaning I'm not gauranteed any hours. And this week? I've only gotten one shift so far. Ouch. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So this puts a little damper on my goal of finishing school this fall. As much as I want to, it's just not feasible. My tuition bill (for my last 6 credits) is $1,866.55, and sorry to say but I just don't have it. Another downer? The classes I need aren't offered at all in the spring, meaning I have to wait until next fall to complete them. It's only 6 credits, but I'd much rather be done now. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So it's been time to have some serious talks about what we can and can't afford to live without. What I can't afford to give up? Gym membership and my phone. Unfortunately they're both already at the bare minimum. My gym membership is one of the cheapest in town, and my phone is basically only used for texting. Plus I'm already splitting a phone plan with my boyfriend and my mom, making it cheaper than if I were on my own plan. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Kh6bWVsXKOtieQ86oys8_YktkTmGu_80QWhN-pFqYTDBuEdOg2RD0pei-Rrse5w28KBMuViT7N0U4W-Ny3MKS3Qv2CAJbVplkhR9UPWgxj6_Z0Jk-ZZ-ndYQpLgfEPvHliddrVhQbGU/s1600/imagesCAW1K7PU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Kh6bWVsXKOtieQ86oys8_YktkTmGu_80QWhN-pFqYTDBuEdOg2RD0pei-Rrse5w28KBMuViT7N0U4W-Ny3MKS3Qv2CAJbVplkhR9UPWgxj6_Z0Jk-ZZ-ndYQpLgfEPvHliddrVhQbGU/s1600/imagesCAW1K7PU.jpg" xaa="true" /></a>Top of the list, of course, is getting this rent situation figured out. We've got someone who might be able to move in at the end of September, but that seems to be our only lead. It's tough to find a place as cheap as what we pay when we have a roommate. </div><br />
Next on the list? Cable. <br />
<br />
...........<br />
<br />
Sorry I had to take a second there...that hurt. But we can't afford it, so out it goes. <br />
<br />
On the bright side, you can look up most any tv episode on the internet now as well as buy whole seasons of our favorite shows. That way we don't even have to deal with commercials. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts...<br />
<br />
The idea of a yard sale came up as well, but frankly, we don't have much to sell. It's okay though, we do have stuff we don't need, and $20 is better than nothing. <br />
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But don't worry folks, the internet isn't going anywhere. How else would I stay connected with you?<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mrs-marine.com/"><img height="100" source="blank" src="http://i107.photobucket.com/albums/m292/PatriciaG79/StalkHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://to-calm-insanity.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img <="" a="" height="100" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v324/satinxoxo/blog%20buttons/bloghopfridays.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.piggygiggles.com/"><img height="100" src="http://www.piggygiggles.com/PGButtons/PG_Show_and_Tell_125.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thanksmailcarrier.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q310/christi3715/FriendlyFriday_Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.smartandtrendymoms.com/search/label/socialparade" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy64/smartandtrendymoms/Socialparade-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-16879485613856788602011-08-31T01:56:00.009-06:002011-09-06T18:02:33.804-06:00Irrational Fears<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxKZTf_mDNx67TLxRrwzAK_KSabxgehdeUTik7eXgAaEK5EoTWHnGYx_GeZ43inf91_2BAeI77J1FT232lTdQgyRni8COOMh4issHla47TmzE16_hiTaogpdKd6pC3DTBaMareGXXXxM/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxKZTf_mDNx67TLxRrwzAK_KSabxgehdeUTik7eXgAaEK5EoTWHnGYx_GeZ43inf91_2BAeI77J1FT232lTdQgyRni8COOMh4issHla47TmzE16_hiTaogpdKd6pC3DTBaMareGXXXxM/s320/aaaaafired.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Fact: I'm scared of extremely stupid things. <br />
<br />
This is a rather embarrassing fact about myself. Generally, I'm not scared of anything, and I mean <em>anything. </em>Trying gross foods? No problem. Creepy crawly/intimidating critters that fall into the "more scared of you than you are of them" category, like spiders, snakes, Grizzly bears or sharks? Bring it on. Even dangerous stunts, like skydiving or bungee jumping don't phase me. <br />
<br />
But everyone has a few random strange fears. My boyfriend is convinced Bigfoot lives less than a mile from us, and a friend of his avoids sleeping over at our house because he thinks one of my cats is going to scratch his face off in the middle of the night. He'll pet them during the day, but for some reason as soon as the sun goes down he thinks they become rabid little beasts, like gremlins or something. As for myself, well, I admit I have a few unbelievably ridiculous things that terrify me. So here they are now: <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong><u>My Top 3 Irrational Fears</u></strong></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkqN7yxWUyvjeX21zIjl1PHqik7c7SAWKW7zJjUTQEPEZw9RwUh5rtNi3mHWEKOBiErPaN5GiZMPuqTJLTstcJDDJ_11-I655xWlmbCQivgOVWG2DCTk7svgF1VA5k9SC2vQG35wShyY/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkqN7yxWUyvjeX21zIjl1PHqik7c7SAWKW7zJjUTQEPEZw9RwUh5rtNi3mHWEKOBiErPaN5GiZMPuqTJLTstcJDDJ_11-I655xWlmbCQivgOVWG2DCTk7svgF1VA5k9SC2vQG35wShyY/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a><strong>3.)</strong> Being stranded in a car in 100 degree weather with no air conditioning or cracked windows. When I get into a car, I literally have to check to make sure there are no child locks so if there were a dramatic spike in temperature I'd still have a way out. I've had panic attacks over windows that have a slight delay before they roll down. I'm not kidding, folks. Heat + small space + no relief = instant crazy person.<br />
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJiFbUuqyFgEg9XMicHZjzxExSRNgu8T16HQcvwdpFas75q-YhRAie-0hFHclcKyL7zBbOh2d0P5Qnbmh048UFcoA_rYu9kodXWxlknOtoxutCrxNjhQZf64Fqy5Ui8PevXJCPpqEf_zM/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJiFbUuqyFgEg9XMicHZjzxExSRNgu8T16HQcvwdpFas75q-YhRAie-0hFHclcKyL7zBbOh2d0P5Qnbmh048UFcoA_rYu9kodXWxlknOtoxutCrxNjhQZf64Fqy5Ui8PevXJCPpqEf_zM/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a><br />
<br />
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<strong>2.)</strong> The old Burger King mascot. It's a guy in a king costume with a plastic face that hands out burgers. Come on people, it's one step away from a homicidal clown that hands out balloons and then follows you home and kills you in your sleep. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjlhs2PcyrYDSjHuLynQaQ2QDuqSgDH04-U5C4THGuuTc4ZAi4xe8zSTgwKKZnNDTjWKv50wo5T849_c0PSY5VR3W75MgARXvRNmtI-KApxH3HJdEuVOuoSB_a0eouA1Sz9O4cS1hgeI/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjlhs2PcyrYDSjHuLynQaQ2QDuqSgDH04-U5C4THGuuTc4ZAi4xe8zSTgwKKZnNDTjWKv50wo5T849_c0PSY5VR3W75MgARXvRNmtI-KApxH3HJdEuVOuoSB_a0eouA1Sz9O4cS1hgeI/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a><strong>1.)</strong> People on television who seem to be speaking directly to me. For example, there's this new internet and cable company in Montana called Optimum. The main guy on all their commercials <em>freaks me the hell out.</em> He talks about how Optimum is here to serve me, then looks into my eyes and says, "In the coming weeks, I'll be back with more information." Except I hear, "In the coming weeks I'll slowly find my way to your house, and then one morning you'll walk out of your bedroom to find me sitting on your couch, wearing your high heels and holding a steak knife." I don't want him to be back. I want him to leave me alone and stop staring at me. If I ever actually see him in real life I'll genuinely think he's stalking me. I think he's stalking me right now, actually...creepy, creepy, Optimum commercial man...</div><br />
So I'm sure there are a few more, but these are the basic ones. What are some of your irrational fears?<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.onlyparentchronicles.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/That_One_Mom/Only%20Parent%20Chronicles%20Blog%20Design/PostItNoteTuesday-OnlyParentChronicles-FINALcopy.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/terrific-twitter-tuesday-blog-hop/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/twitterblog-hop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://mommyingonthefly.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i290.photobucket.com/albums/ll269/peekab00o/toes-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.random-dealz.com/search/label/Whimsical%20Wednesday" target="”_blank”"><img height="”100”" src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/tonyaj79/WhimsicalWednesday125x125.jpg" style="height: 100px; width: 100px;" /></a> <a href="http://momsonlinegaragesale.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc206/BusyBee68/Iheartblogginghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifeaccordingtodamaris.com/"><img alt="Give a Hoot Wednesday Blog Hop" border="0" height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/2zyld28.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_3284432-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://aboutamom.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1099.photobucket.com/albums/g388/couponinggibsongal/WildWednesdayHop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://blogging-hints.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Blogging Hints Catch a Wave Wednesday" height="100" src="http://www.busy-moms-tips.com/images/catch-a-wave-wednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://takeitfrom-me.blogspot.com/search/label/Welcome%20Wednesday"><img height="100" src="http://i952.photobucket.com/albums/ae7/KWynder/WelcomeWednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://wahmresourcesite.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOLgJaYTqsXGcHVK7CwKpHQ8lsa1I6zZzY17Q9X2wdXmuUX9_u0kslEsu59ByK77lCVBvdELFSz8yGlbgvd9_r2bFwERQGwJYxO4_nEv4aidd2YFl0YyytXffayyGz1-5ZuqZOnpssiw/s144/Blog%20Hop%20Butterfly%20Button-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://dosweatthesmallstuffblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Thoughtful%20Thursday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1097.photobucket.com/albums/g345/dosweatthesmallstuff/ThoughtfulThursdayBlogHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/category/bassgiraffe-linkups" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/buttons/200x200button-thursdaybloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-25862447738959684692011-08-29T03:01:00.003-06:002011-08-31T02:40:42.605-06:00Lesson 12: Fast Food Landmines Are Sneaky SOB's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRQCNdx9lsMRgecDwwr-XKGPLi92BX4eBRQGFyqlfB2PexxNE6fhqPBEwMxlPYokjV_yAW_1md3h35X2i2cR5dXqAeNOmYmYvKG4FjY4f4Oe57HSgyGBWbG1iGv1zW6qQ6WCdtgooN2s/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRQCNdx9lsMRgecDwwr-XKGPLi92BX4eBRQGFyqlfB2PexxNE6fhqPBEwMxlPYokjV_yAW_1md3h35X2i2cR5dXqAeNOmYmYvKG4FjY4f4Oe57HSgyGBWbG1iGv1zW6qQ6WCdtgooN2s/s1600/aaaaafired.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Well today was the last 8 hour drive from just south of Denver, CO to Billings, MT, and with it came a very hard lesson of life: avoiding fast food on the road is near impossible. <br />
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If you've read my previous posts (<a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/05/ive-been-reading-lot-of-blogs-lately.html"><span style="color: red;"><strong>Weight Loss from a Psych Point of View</strong></span></a>, <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/06/eating-healthy-while-eating-out.html"><strong><span style="color: purple;">Eating Healthy While Eating</span><span style="color: purple;"> Out</span></strong></a>, etc) you'll know that I'm pretty savvy when it comes to the world of nutrition and weight loss decision making skills. My degrees in health and psychology have proved to be a useful combination. <br />
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But I'm also a hot-blooded woman, and when I'm stuck in a vehicle for 8 hours, I get hungry...for <em>anything. </em><br />
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And therein lies the problem. For the most part, I can say no to the variety of fast food chains set before me. I can choose Subway over Burger King any day, but a road trip means I'm covering new territory, and I'm presented with new "exciting" food choices, like Long John Silvers. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_L6I8bGSsmLmnhHPNfkFqBltZgnXYHwdci167bqVSDq379q1zyfpgTh5mQ-6bpTgTeL7ooYzFDYuFKbhbH_uwUvfh7VOqyrl5RGyG0tztMwTliKUadhVxmufVJUunQSKGTfLIM9Oj98/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_L6I8bGSsmLmnhHPNfkFqBltZgnXYHwdci167bqVSDq379q1zyfpgTh5mQ-6bpTgTeL7ooYzFDYuFKbhbH_uwUvfh7VOqyrl5RGyG0tztMwTliKUadhVxmufVJUunQSKGTfLIM9Oj98/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a>See, we don't have a Long John Silvers in Montana, so it's as if the commercials that are constantly flashed in my face have been packed into my brain over the years, gradually creating an overload of whatever chemical it is that tells me I want deep fried shrimp, <em>now</em>. The sight of their billboard causes some kind of explosion in my mind that makes it difficult for me not to reach across and pull the steering wheel toward the exit ramp. There's no time to communicate my needs, and frankly, I don't think I'd be able to communicate them in a less than psychotic fashion anyway. So when my boyfriend inquired if I wanted to stop, he must have derived from the wide-eyed, nostril-flared drooling stare that the correct answer was to be parked out front of the seafood fast-food chain. To deny me at this point, would've been more than dangerous. <br />
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Now folks I haven't eaten fast-food in...wait for it...<em>years. </em>And why would I? I know exactly what I'm getting; a salty over processed, overpriced, synthetic-filled, parchment-lined basket of diabetes, high blood pressure and low self-esteem. And this is just within the first couple bites. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUBGxsrFaQkRGedxdolSQKqlZCBC1W4xfKQZ51b1OvLAHZm1SxN8k4yNtub4gcfDv7I2rCPLuC8iaIlLxFomOAXd21Ov_s5-0R-bzF8ixG7o-_h2ifPMIJ_16SGXjSly9rAz4cKyAb4g/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUBGxsrFaQkRGedxdolSQKqlZCBC1W4xfKQZ51b1OvLAHZm1SxN8k4yNtub4gcfDv7I2rCPLuC8iaIlLxFomOAXd21Ov_s5-0R-bzF8ixG7o-_h2ifPMIJ_16SGXjSly9rAz4cKyAb4g/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a>So why is it that I think I'm magically immune to all of these effects as soon as I find myself on an unfamiliar highway? Because I'm definitely not, and I know it. In fact, I think I'm even <em>more </em>susceptible to them. Nausea always seems to be accelerated when riding in a car 4 hours before the meal and 4 hours after is on the agenda. <br />
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Therefore, I ended up learning the hard way the lesson that I already knew. Fast-food is meant to draw you in, but the end result is always the same: you feel like crap. Mindless eating is the enemy of any healthy lifestyle. Ever eaten at a crappy restaurant that made you sick afterwards? Sure you have, we've all done it, but do you go back there on a regular basis? No, and you know why? Because they're not constantly trying to drag you in to give them a second chance. It's advertising, and I fall for it every time. <br />
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So I guess I'm saying I'm not perfect. I was fast-food sober for years, and blew it on a generic basket of oil-soaked shrimp-shaped regret. Now I'm cranky and am going to bed. Oh well, now I know better. Tomorrow is another chance to make the right choices, so I'll just have to look forward to that!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ftmommyferg.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="The Not-So-Secret Confessions of a First Time Mom" border="0" height="100" src="http://i332.photobucket.com/albums/m335/kayedani/newmondaybutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/make-your-rank-lower-monday-alexa-blog-hop/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Alexa-blog-hop21.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.kdbuggieboutique.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1044.photobucket.com/albums/b441/kshisley/th_minglemondaybutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.toughcookiemommy.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://img580.imageshack.us/img580/232/bloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thetypeahousewife.com/search/label/type%20a%20twitter%20monday"><img height="100" src="http://i1111.photobucket.com/albums/h475/ohkeeka/typeatwittermonday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.singleparentretreat.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk189/4MyDesigns/Buttons/spr_bloghop_01a.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_1069007-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-48837160229517523692011-08-26T13:18:00.007-06:002011-11-21T14:33:22.100-07:00How To Choose The Right Career<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCcs7AJZbJXVM8XRk-i0dKBLJhKblaDeeqovxcXnWp5m0NizO6mBNFRSI27CmrMM3oi26pMj-JCRUTrOgT7jDnUOeCAj_PtLNQqQRH_X88bpmcK-V1C3q8wmQhZyeZRDN1IbVMK0_oTs/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCcs7AJZbJXVM8XRk-i0dKBLJhKblaDeeqovxcXnWp5m0NizO6mBNFRSI27CmrMM3oi26pMj-JCRUTrOgT7jDnUOeCAj_PtLNQqQRH_X88bpmcK-V1C3q8wmQhZyeZRDN1IbVMK0_oTs/s1600/aaaaafired.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I don't want the title of this post to throw you, I haven't found the secret to life or anything. But considering I had 8 hours of travel time on Sunday, then 13 on Wednesday (yes, we got a little lost) it's safe to say I've really had some time to really process <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-11-blessing-in-disguise.html"><strong><span style="color: red;">everything that has happened</span></strong></a> in the last month or so. The sudden <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/am-i-normal.html"><strong><span style="color: red;">realization</span></strong></a> that I've been studying for a career I never intended on doing in the first place along with the embarrassing heart-pang of never even <i>trying </i>something I <i>wanted </i>to do made for some long (and I'm sure draining) conversations with my boyfriend. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But thankfully, they've been incredibly beneficial. He's not only supportive, but extremely intelligent. Plus his degree in Business gives him fantastic insight as to what it takes to make it in an industry, as most creative jobs are, where your ability to market yourself can mean sink or swim. So using my Master's in psychology, I did some homework and combined a few typical psychological exams with some basic discussion principles and came up with a quick way for you to figure out a job for yourself that would fit in with your daily life, you would be good at, and would also enjoy doing. Here's what was left: <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoweaD5T3sZQMI9Fnqnb5Flyopmfrae_oNJyL85fREOEzZKn1obSXSnxZ9HT3rLtfKvILPV88BBgBErPWSnKM0H9MfPDLNOLLlBVfQMdnWPL-S2_ZyxgnNhQam7iHoeG7r4kKeYmhlig/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoweaD5T3sZQMI9Fnqnb5Flyopmfrae_oNJyL85fREOEzZKn1obSXSnxZ9HT3rLtfKvILPV88BBgBErPWSnKM0H9MfPDLNOLLlBVfQMdnWPL-S2_ZyxgnNhQam7iHoeG7r4kKeYmhlig/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1.) Have your <i>closest </i>friends and family members take the following survey. They have to know you extremely well, otherwise it's going to be all over the place. It's only four questions, and some of them may seem silly, so make sure they take it seriously. I've added some answers people said about me as possible examples.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1.) If you could choose 2 colors to describe me, what would they be and why?</span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: - Yellow and Orange, because I'm, "energetic, exciting, creative happy and bright".</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2.) Of the following jobs, which would I be happiest in and which would I be the most miserable in. Why?<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Storm Chaser</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Lawyer</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Teacher/Coach</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Accountant</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Salesmen/Real Estate Agent</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Artist/Writer</span><br />
- Sculptor/Mechanic/Carpenter<br />
- Masseuse/Physical Therapist/Yoga Instructor</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- Carpenter/Oil Driller/Fisherman</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: “Best would be Storm Chaser, because you like to do things that are a little dangerous, and you’re kinda crazy. Or a writer. You're good at telling stories. Worst would be salesman, I don’t think you would be good at pushing people to buy something they don’t need. You would feel bad.”</span> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">3.) List 3 things that would describe my perfect vacation day ever and 3 things that would describe my worst vacation day ever. Why these things?</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: “Best would be 1.) Going somewhere new that you’ve never seen before, 2.) Doing something that would give you an adrenaline rush, like bungee jumping or swimming with sharks or something, and 3.) Having someone there to share it with. Worst would be 1.) Having to stay in one place, like going somewhere but everyone wanted to just lay by the pool all day because you would probably want to explore. 2.) Having some kind of schedule or routine you had to stick to because you would probably get distracted or want to do something else, and 3.) Being somewhere super hot and having no way to cool down, because you’re weird like that.”</span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">4.) List 3 of my strengths and 3 of my weaknesses, as they can be applied to anything. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsiq_IjsTXyhxXCA7c1xQMqW_Aenas8rFNVxwJGk8liVhK9xDiBCzUq9ChASkyHhRCT3OVuRozF72t5X7-GeLkqaokO-slNk5X8MKTwZAxDtygqn0UpNDxDoBtrF7SikwbSDf-8mtmlM/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsiq_IjsTXyhxXCA7c1xQMqW_Aenas8rFNVxwJGk8liVhK9xDiBCzUq9ChASkyHhRCT3OVuRozF72t5X7-GeLkqaokO-slNk5X8MKTwZAxDtygqn0UpNDxDoBtrF7SikwbSDf-8mtmlM/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: “Three strengths would be 1.) You’re hardworking and kind of stubborn. Once you set your mind to something it gets done. 2.) You’re really good at telling stories or describing things, and 3.) You’re good at connecting with people. Three weaknesses would be 1.) You get bored really easily, 2.) You tend to follow your own agenda. You get frustrated if you think you can do a job better a different way. 3.) You have a lot of things running through your head and pulling you in different directions.”</span></span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2.) Now list off what you wanted to be when you were little along with any job you would want to have now. Include anything you might consider a “pipe-dream”. And don’t worry if the list is long. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: Writer, Actor, Journalist, Photographer, Marine Biologist, Zookeeper, Horse Trainer, Astronaut, Linguist, Musician, Film Composer, Chef, Food Critic, Artist (Painter), Sculptor, Animal Petter (hey I thought it was a real job), Storm Chaser, Cartoonist, Costume Designer, Veterinarian, Professional Athlete, Adventure Guide, Pilot, Florist, Cake Decorator, Scuba Dive Instructor, and there’s even more.</span> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">3.) Now list you’re current non-negotiable commitments, or things that you are absolutely not willing to change. These aren’t things that you can’t afford to do, or don’t know how to do, like your current job or location; you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i> change those things. These are more along the lines of, “I want to be close to my mother during her last days” or “I’m 55 and don’t want to jeopardize too much of my savings/retirement fund”. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: I don’t want to move. I would like to travel, of course, but I still want my permanent home to be here in Billings. I’m also not willing to do anything that puts unnecessary strain on my relationship with my boyfriend (like housing 30 ferrets), or take on something that meant I couldn’t start a family in the next few years. In addition, I don't want to go back to school right now. I currently have three degrees and I need to put them to use before I get another one. </span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">4.) Now cross off jobs on that list that would interfere with those commitments. This shouldn’t hurt too badly if you listed commitments you are honestly not willing to change. It might help to make a list of pros and cons, like this: </span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Job</strong><span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> <strong> </strong></span><strong>Pros</strong><span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Cons</strong></span></div><table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: currentColor; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;"><tbody>
<tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0;"> <td style="background-color: transparent; border: 1pt solid windowtext; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Actor<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: windowtext windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: solid solid solid none; border-width: 1pt 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Do something different everyday<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Get to be creative in generating new characters<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: windowtext windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: solid solid solid none; border-width: 1pt 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Not a lot of work in Billings, MT<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--99.9% of Actors are unemployed<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 1;"> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Veterinarian<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Get to work with animals everyday<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Pays well<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Have to go through a lot of schooling<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Would have to euthanize<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 2;"> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Professional Athlete<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Awesome Pay<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Play a game for a living<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Not talented enough<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Would have to move: MT has no professional teams<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 3;"> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Cartoonist<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Make jokes for a living<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Get to draw and color all day<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Can’t draw cartoons very well<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Doesn’t pay very well<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 4; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Food Critic<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">---Get to taste food<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">---Get to write<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> <td style="background-color: transparent; border-color: rgb(64, 0, 0) windowtext windowtext rgb(64, 0, 0); border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: 0px 1pt 1pt 0px; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Would need to attend more school, not knowledgeable enough about how to use my palate<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">--Might have eat some disgusting stuff<o:p></o:p></span></div></td> </tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What am I left with?</span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Writer, <s>Actor</s>, Journalist, Photographer, <s>Marine Biologist</s>, <s>Zookeeper</s>, Horse Trainer, <s>Astronaut</s>, <s>Linguist</s>, <s>Musician</s>, <s>Film Composer</s>, <s>Chef</s>, Food Critic, Artist (Painter), Sculptor, <s>Animal Petter (hey I thought it was a real job)</s>, <s>Storm Chaser</s>, <s>Cartoonist</s>, <s>Costume Designer</s>, <s>Veterinarian</s>, <s>Professional Athlete</s>, Adventure Guide, <s>Pilot</s>, Florist, Cake Decorator, <s>Scuba Dive Instructor</s>.</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0in;">5.) Now let’s apply the results from the earlier survey to the jobs I have left. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Writer, Journalist, Photographer, Horse Trainer, Food Critic, Artist (Painter), Sculptor, Adventure Guide, Florist, Cake Decorator.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">My Example: Fortunately, all of these jobs fit pretty well with my survey results. They all revolve around doing something creative and different every day. Plus they are all basically independent in nature. I doubt I’m going to find a job in the paper hiring for an artistic painter anytime soon.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">6.) Now use common sense. Honestly, I have no experience as a Sculptor or Painter (even though I enjoy doing them) and there’s no way I could hold myself out as an Adventure Guide, I don’t have near the qualifications or the knowledge.</span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74SxaTS8BGFPgf_uDriHCgAEr6XSVsp4BcnU3rKzLFVW4jKFMS92dyxKvIKm8Hi8iq1cUHgHcEkku_YEuGO03PsugBhmx96RCRDBFhvondpE3YmejQnXJGe6OPnGdFNn2SnB-7kYdH54/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74SxaTS8BGFPgf_uDriHCgAEr6XSVsp4BcnU3rKzLFVW4jKFMS92dyxKvIKm8Hi8iq1cUHgHcEkku_YEuGO03PsugBhmx96RCRDBFhvondpE3YmejQnXJGe6OPnGdFNn2SnB-7kYdH54/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So what have I settled on pursuing? Primarily photography and writing (going back to my photojournalism roots). Yes, I understand that this is an expensive and difficult route (paid photographers make less than actors, on average) but it’s something I’ve been passionate about for years, as well as something I feel I would excel at. Having my own business (or working as a freelance writer) would allow me the freedom to make my own decisions, as well as the opportunity to be outside and travel.</span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">7. So next comes the to-do list: 1. I need a new camera. Mine broke years ago and I’ve been scrounging with its remaining functions to just get average pictures. 2. I need experience, so last week I went door to door to every photographer in town asking if they needed an assistant. I explained that I would work for free, and after 2 days I found one willing to work with me. Check. 3. I need to come up with some kind of plan that breaks my goals into achieveable steps. </span><br />
<br />
8. The last step is the plan. Personally, since I need a camera and experience I plan on still working at the psych center while looking for writing jobs and saving up money for that damn camera. In order to be considered a full-time writer, I need to be able to make enough money, weekly, that is at least equivalent to a paycheck I receive at the psych center. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0in;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Okay folks, so this has definitely been one of the longest posts I’ve ever written. Let me know if you use this slimmed down method to evaluate your own career decisions!</span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://designitchic.blogspot.com/search/label/Boost%20My%20Blog%20Friday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i618.photobucket.com/albums/tt262/designitchic/47102d/8471020.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.piggygiggles.com/"><img height="100" src="http://www.piggygiggles.com/PGButtons/PG_Show_and_Tell_125.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.thanksmailcarrier.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q310/christi3715/FriendlyFriday_Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.weidknecht.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1200.photobucket.com/albums/bb334/Weidknecht/weekendhopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifewithtwinsandadramaqueen.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1096.photobucket.com/albums/g338/LifeTiwnsNaDramaQueen/Decorated%20images/Rainbows.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.smartandtrendymoms.com/search/label/socialparade" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy64/smartandtrendymoms/Socialparade-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.amommysblogdesignstudio.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1197.photobucket.com/albums/aa429/mommyssweetthings/A%20Mommys%20Sweet%20Blog%20Design/YouLikeMeBlogHopButton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://theblogentourage.blogspot.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i68.photobucket.com/albums/i37/billiejean0310/saturdaycrazedfan.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://noordinarybloghop.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i957.photobucket.com/albums/ae52/lschultz31/Blog%20Hop/dreamstimefree_1069007-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://confessionsofavi3tbabe.com/search/label/So%20Followed%20Saturday" target="_blank"><img alt="So Followed Saturday" height="100" src="http://i56.tinypic.com/2hxsleb.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/wild-card-weekend-blog-hop/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Wild-Card-Weekend-Blog-Hop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.measuringflower.com/search/label/Stop%20and%20Stumble"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i1202.photobucket.com/albums/bb374/MeasuringFlower/stopandstumblebutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.shibleysmiles.com/tag/relax-surf"><img alt="Sunday Blog Hop Shibley Smiles" height="100" src="http://www.shibleysmiles.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/SundayButton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.3psmama.com/"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i846.photobucket.com/albums/ab22/tarapaige1/cupcake1-1-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://marnisorganizedmess.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5146/5655930681_c5ee43502a.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://forblogs.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r70/VICKT80/1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/subscriber-sunday-blog-hop//"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Subscriber-Sunday.png" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-46303717743056850932011-08-23T23:47:00.003-06:002011-08-24T23:12:18.823-06:00Babies Have It Made<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvg1p6JUeEGevhyzeMIsOrtZD9eAPENaWCvi9fYeyddaaq3mPLM4JqmZY6I6G5c269icIfMwfCOgTmCbDrSmcmmeSNHbPcMrqIkdIy1_WmPbmOEqVOMup5P579qbt6z0ksSn4vLs0fe8Q/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvg1p6JUeEGevhyzeMIsOrtZD9eAPENaWCvi9fYeyddaaq3mPLM4JqmZY6I6G5c269icIfMwfCOgTmCbDrSmcmmeSNHbPcMrqIkdIy1_WmPbmOEqVOMup5P579qbt6z0ksSn4vLs0fe8Q/s1600/aaaaafired.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
We leave tomorrow morning for Denver, for Wedding #3. I've been at my brother's since Sunday night visiting him, my sister-in-law and my little niece, who's almost 8 months old. I'm having a great time, but there's something that my niece (who I have described in previous posts as sarcastic and ironic) has brought to my attention: babies have awesome sh*t. <br />
<br />
No really, they do. All their toys do, like, a <em>bagillion </em>different things (yes, I just used the word bagillion and 'like' in the same sentence; your welcome valley girls). Their toys move, sing, light up, and all the while, they're teaching you something. Are you kidding me? Put my chemistry lesson in a song and have it sung to me by a dancing, multicolored, light up elephant and <em>I dare you </em>to bet against me in a periodic table stand-off. Usually, my homework gets pushed to the last minute because I'm distracted by something with lots of lights and sounds (read: the television) so I don't see why something even more fabulously distracting wouldn't be a brilliant idea. Heck, it works for babies...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v9ussZrib2JFpKUEtVdWCG-TSEvRZVGM72oRMZwbmGFt4gzQ1gpQZAS56m3BbVcUXQwOjy9IxjVWTcDAbOXMbWjC1e4Psm1HjnqNSZEk5sPRxRuV-S66FuoK1DeNZB0hMxrV9lsKKEw/s1600/aaaaaph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v9ussZrib2JFpKUEtVdWCG-TSEvRZVGM72oRMZwbmGFt4gzQ1gpQZAS56m3BbVcUXQwOjy9IxjVWTcDAbOXMbWjC1e4Psm1HjnqNSZEk5sPRxRuV-S66FuoK1DeNZB0hMxrV9lsKKEw/s1600/aaaaaph.png" /></a></div>And when did everything in the adult world become so boring? Since I've grown up, everything has a "sleek" and "modern" feel. Well maybe I don't want "sleek" or "modern", maybe I want a phone that's bulky and bright yellow with pink and purple buttons. I guarantee I wouldn't lose it near as often. An elegant chandelier? How about a vivid and vibrant airplane mobile above the dining room table? And screw the silent, stainless steel kitchen appliances, how about a little music every time the refrigerator fills my glass with ice or water, or a fluorescent green stove with blue burners? Ones that change from blue to red to yellow depending on how hot they are. You know, color coded so people like me who, for some reason, completely ignore the fact that just because the burner is off it doesn't mean it's not still hot. Safety first, I always say. <br />
<br />
And don't even get me started on clothing. I was wondering through Gap Kids today (which is <em>ridiculously </em>expensive by the way, I wonder how <em>they</em> sleep at night) and I couldn't help wishing I was still 2 feet tall. There was a little snowsuit with footies and mittens attached to the hands and feet, (attached!) with a fuzzy hoody and a built-in face-mask/windbreaker. Why don't they make those for adults? No not snowsuits with mittens and snow boots sold separately, the all-in-one deal, like they did back in the good ol' days when I was apparently...4. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmkKH2i2Tmwd3ApGT5PfCVeaj5jr-mA67QwfsHxsJ-JT-S-GKlG1FK-LXNeLyKAnRA81xAfSUsrwVdgM54X5CHYKZ3YYR7taSYSkuhiUUK8fvgM4HmWEd-KQM3V1D0SH8T_hYPgOTtRw/s1600/aaaababy.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmkKH2i2Tmwd3ApGT5PfCVeaj5jr-mA67QwfsHxsJ-JT-S-GKlG1FK-LXNeLyKAnRA81xAfSUsrwVdgM54X5CHYKZ3YYR7taSYSkuhiUUK8fvgM4HmWEd-KQM3V1D0SH8T_hYPgOTtRw/s1600/aaaababy.png" /></a></div>And transportation? I'm even willing to temporarily chill the eff' out about the snail's pace my jet pack is coming along if someone will just answer my question of <em>why the hell don't I have my own stroller? </em>If I could find an adult size one I'm sure my friends and I wouldn't mind trading off with it. How incredibly awesome would it be to get pushed around the grocery store, attempting to cause as much destruction in the cereal isle as humanly possible with absolutely no consequences because, hey, you're in a stroller, you don't know any better. And if you were somewhere that takes forever to get your shopping done (like Wallmart or Costco, where they only have four cash registers open), you could cuddle up with your super-soft blanky and stuffed zebra and take a little nap. Thirsty? Hungry? Fear not, I'm sure any kind of satisfaction is but an arm's length (or a loud warning squeal) away. There are so many pockets and useful gadgets on those things I have no idea why I ever spent my money on luggage in the first place. My suitcase doesn't even have a cup holder. <br />
<br />
This trip so far has been eye-opening. I need to get me some cool-ass baby sh*t, except for, you know, adults or something. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.random-dealz.com/search/label/Whimsical%20Wednesday" target="”_blank”"><img height="”100”" src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/tonyaj79/WhimsicalWednesday125x125.jpg" style="height: 100px; width: 100px;" /></a> <a href="http://momsonlinegaragesale.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc206/BusyBee68/Iheartblogginghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://jembellish.blogspot.com/search/label/creating%20to%20success"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i895.photobucket.com/albums/ac152/creatingtosuccess/blog%20buttons%20-%20Creating%20my%20way%20to%20Success/Jillsbloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://takeitfrom-me.blogspot.com/search/label/Welcome%20Wednesday"><img height="100" src="http://i952.photobucket.com/albums/ae7/KWynder/WelcomeWednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lifeaccordingtodamaris.com/"><img alt="Give a Hoot Wednesday Blog Hop" border="0" height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/2zyld28.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://wahmresourcesite.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOLgJaYTqsXGcHVK7CwKpHQ8lsa1I6zZzY17Q9X2wdXmuUX9_u0kslEsu59ByK77lCVBvdELFSz8yGlbgvd9_r2bFwERQGwJYxO4_nEv4aidd2YFl0YyytXffayyGz1-5ZuqZOnpssiw/s144/Blog%20Hop%20Butterfly%20Button-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://dosweatthesmallstuffblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Thoughtful%20Thursday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1097.photobucket.com/albums/g345/dosweatthesmallstuff/ThoughtfulThursdayBlogHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/category/bassgiraffe-linkups" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://www.bassgiraffe.com/buttons/200x200button-thursdaybloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-23669864341802948912011-08-21T01:44:00.002-06:002011-08-21T02:40:33.955-06:00Something Borrowed, Something Broken<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQEqeUtAsVOh21trND4hAOqzsoXp5oL3uyhVMOS7H5jb-XHWzvr48y-hJ-sx2OkcJgjXm_rsXj3oMffAG0BRZuG1EOe1DctbmDLWaF6WVuRv6pZ8YK-oepG0aEiTF6Gh7r5R8VHVQqoU/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQEqeUtAsVOh21trND4hAOqzsoXp5oL3uyhVMOS7H5jb-XHWzvr48y-hJ-sx2OkcJgjXm_rsXj3oMffAG0BRZuG1EOe1DctbmDLWaF6WVuRv6pZ8YK-oepG0aEiTF6Gh7r5R8VHVQqoU/s1600/aaaaafired.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Wedding #2 tonight, and the reception is still going on. So why am I blogging right now?<br />
<br />
I mean, come on, I've been looking forward to this wedding. I traveled three hours today (on 4 hours of sleep) and all the while thoughts of drinking and dancing the night away filled my head. The mental picture of myself wearing my favorite polka dot "twirly dress" proved to be fantastic motivation to slightly break the interstate speed limit. Yet here I am, sitting in a hotel room, my "twirly dress" on a hanger, watching the World Series of Poker and sipping hotel water from a plastic cup. I barely even got to have any cake. <br />
<br />
Well, sorry to say, my boyfriend got sick, so we had to leave early. I should be pissed, right? Oh please, not in the slightest. The truth is the wedding was beautiful, a picture perfect homage to the Montana lifestyle I love so much. Girls wore sundresses and cowboy boots and guys looked sharp in the nicest pair of jeans they owned. Dogs and little kids played in the background, and a fare of burgers, hot dogs, potato salad, corn on the cob and watermelon tasted perfect on a warm Saturday afternoon. A large tent filled with white Christmas lights cast a soft glow on tables full of beer cans as old baseball teammates told stories of when they all played together in college. I only wore my shoes for the actual ceremony itself. Not because they were uncomfortable, but because the feel of cool grass on my feet was too inviting to pass up. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaA8eTfu3pOFTriNGK1sbx4TY5ULHEwfgJmCJ3moXkqa1X6E1TvXlppTMIMYCWBqHTW6rSCVCWF9sFe6jN7nT3ZQpg7XZ4g13l9X7y6n7KotCEGh71Y24__Y9rFTfhsN36s42t6zuF3DI/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaA8eTfu3pOFTriNGK1sbx4TY5ULHEwfgJmCJ3moXkqa1X6E1TvXlppTMIMYCWBqHTW6rSCVCWF9sFe6jN7nT3ZQpg7XZ4g13l9X7y6n7KotCEGh71Y24__Y9rFTfhsN36s42t6zuF3DI/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a>So should I <em>really </em>even have anything to complain about? Sure some things went wrong, like the fact that I brought my camera but left it's memory card at home, but I can buy a disposable camera at a gas station tomorrow. And so what if I have a minor sunburn, since the ceremony was located in direct sunlight and my skin is one shade darker than your average albino...I'll pick up some soothing lotion when I pick up the disposable camera. It seems some sort of flu medication and a heavy dose of caffeine are going to be on the list anyway, so I wouldn't even be making an extra stop. <br />
<br />
In all honesty, I don't mind being in the hotel room now, because I already experienced my favorite part of the wedding: watching the ceremony while holding hands with my boyfriend. It's as if the vows being recited are released into the air, then swirl about and settle upon those who also share in their meaning. Feeling him squeeze my hand and kiss my forehead as two people promise to devote their lives to each other seems to not only acknowledge our own devotion, but strengthen it as well. For a moment, we are in our own world, appreciating the rare level of happiness that can only be reached when one of us is in the company of the other. We're fortunate, and we know it. <br />
<br />
So the rest of the wedding festivities, as callous as it may seem, are really quite irrelevant. Whether our time together is spent on a dance floor or spent in a hotel room, I'm grateful for it either way. Anything extra is really just icing on the cake. Delicious red velvet cake, I might add, and I look forward to more later in the week. But if not? No loss, I'll just make some when I get home. Besides, I really don't watch enough poker anyway.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.shibleysmiles.com/tag/relax-surf"><img alt="Sunday Blog Hop Shibley Smiles" height="100" src="http://www.shibleysmiles.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/SundayButton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.3psmama.com/"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i846.photobucket.com/albums/ab22/tarapaige1/cupcake1-1-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://marnisorganizedmess.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5146/5655930681_c5ee43502a.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://forblogs.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r70/VICKT80/1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/subscriber-sunday-blog-hop//"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Subscriber-Sunday.png" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-89939645195491683822011-08-20T08:43:00.001-06:002011-08-20T09:02:04.810-06:00Three Weddings And A Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsmZuKwr2qEC88XrPJ5ERJbOnd2zSxpXi-fRldJAKkFv7ojUan-Z_LlSuDvgD1_HMDVJSwCLo_Io80uXX9MjgkoNQmlxtTd5k2gF2PmLgWb3xJaEuE3vIB51kLVa-yzKpsABqkLZo85xE/s1600/aaaaat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsmZuKwr2qEC88XrPJ5ERJbOnd2zSxpXi-fRldJAKkFv7ojUan-Z_LlSuDvgD1_HMDVJSwCLo_Io80uXX9MjgkoNQmlxtTd5k2gF2PmLgWb3xJaEuE3vIB51kLVa-yzKpsABqkLZo85xE/s1600/aaaaat.png" /></a></div><br />
It's roadtrip time again! <br />
<br />
Because of my boyfriend's <em>insane</em> schedule (he's a baseball coach for the university during the school year, then coach's legion during the summer) we have about 3 weeks before September to see some friends and family. So we're cramming it all into 8 days. <br />
<br />
One wedding in Bozeman, Montana last night, another this evening in Belgrade, Montana, travel to Ogden, Utah to see my brother, his wife and my niece for 3 days, then Denver, Colorado for another wedding, then back to good ol' Billings, Montana for a little recuperation.<br />
<br />
I'm always excited to see what goes wrong on a roadtrip, for some reason I always think that's part of the fun. And weddings are just awesome so...yeah let's get this party started. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i53.tinypic.com/6fb151.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://designitchic.blogspot.com/search/label/Boost%20My%20Blog%20Friday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i618.photobucket.com/albums/tt262/designitchic/47102d/8471020.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://lucasjourneyspd.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i43.photobucket.com/albums/e373/misterkade/sun-1-1.gif" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.smartandtrendymoms.com/search/label/socialparade" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy64/smartandtrendymoms/Socialparade-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.weidknecht.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1200.photobucket.com/albums/bb334/Weidknecht/weekendhopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.measuringflower.com/search/label/Stop%20and%20Stumble"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i1202.photobucket.com/albums/bb374/MeasuringFlower/stopandstumblebutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://confessionsofavi3tbabe.com/search/label/So%20Followed%20Saturday" target="_blank"><img alt="So Followed Saturday" height="100" src="http://i56.tinypic.com/2hxsleb.jpg" width="100" /></a></div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-29720575652660142682011-08-16T14:40:00.007-06:002011-08-17T22:18:05.355-06:00Here Goes Nothing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPyAQFrnrIGv3KICAUAfQH0jmP_H0Y1PZ5b8eZB8QG20V5aliUcGwNAoHeYjr304122_J0mxfFd1SuMKYJ1h_Yjb8BY-WkfHuJGsWQr90Iw0OdiaOFYnqzTB6AVeDzCecxstM4O81rhQ/s1600/aaaac.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPyAQFrnrIGv3KICAUAfQH0jmP_H0Y1PZ5b8eZB8QG20V5aliUcGwNAoHeYjr304122_J0mxfFd1SuMKYJ1h_Yjb8BY-WkfHuJGsWQr90Iw0OdiaOFYnqzTB6AVeDzCecxstM4O81rhQ/s1600/aaaac.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Hello there, and welcome to what I'm sure will be the most personal post I think I may ever write. Go ahead, take a seat, stay awhile. <br />
<br />
As you know, I'm in a bit of a dilemma at the moment. I'm torn between a career I've been going to school for and taking a leap of faith to pursue a few careers I've always been interested in, but have never had the balls to go for them.<br />
<br />
I'm 6 credits and another internship away from finishing my Master's in Counseling. I've decided to take the remaining 6 credits this fall, and postpone the internship. That way I'm finished with all my coursework (which qualifies me for counselor positions) and any counseling job I decide to apply for in the future counts as the internship. That's the logical part. <br />
<br />
Now for the crazy part...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCOB-Nd1n0XhO23Uppj1PauiZ_f5gH-tbXRpyFuJM1mciQrqyGx6MWcM3Sxjwhyphenhyphen1L3vuNjP74WhhH4l4Aq-2ezgrdbdXAcQAnlNdbTS1Xre2wIcMH067B01gx2rDMPxB_4Owm1fkcoEc/s1600/aaaaafe.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCOB-Nd1n0XhO23Uppj1PauiZ_f5gH-tbXRpyFuJM1mciQrqyGx6MWcM3Sxjwhyphenhyphen1L3vuNjP74WhhH4l4Aq-2ezgrdbdXAcQAnlNdbTS1Xre2wIcMH067B01gx2rDMPxB_4Owm1fkcoEc/s1600/aaaaafe.png" /></a>I spent all day yesterday really putting some thought into what I want to do for a living, and why I chose to pursue counseling in the first place. It wasn't until a text conversation with a friend (who would be a <em>fantastic </em>counselor, btw) really put everything into perspective. "When was the first time you were really jealous of what someone else was doing for a living?" <br />
<br />
What a great question! Jealousy is one of the most primal of emotions as well as one of the most powerful. If you're jealous of something, there's usually a very basic want or need that is not being fulfilled in your life. And <em>why </em>a person is jealous, can say loads about them. <br />
<br />
Think about it, what are you jealous of? Are you jealous of your friend who is happily married and pregnant? I doubt it's because you're in love with her husband or think her growing belly looks sexy, it's more likely because you want to start a family of your own. What about your friend who has a new car and big house? Are you really jealous of all their toys, or the stability and freedom their income provides? The reason for a person's jealousy hits the core of what that person wants out of life. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZnixAJV_5NqJT50qwMfjjawfT6qN4AanuYgO1IZ1Mogj7rAOpYShRgAma2yTpGIXQcRyaTdQOAlyOqPmJxtqt_WBJAkm47pM8JJyExMwapLFP8Jyam47P0tDQXoYwzHTwHyKbm5rA-E/s1600/aaaaat.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZnixAJV_5NqJT50qwMfjjawfT6qN4AanuYgO1IZ1Mogj7rAOpYShRgAma2yTpGIXQcRyaTdQOAlyOqPmJxtqt_WBJAkm47pM8JJyExMwapLFP8Jyam47P0tDQXoYwzHTwHyKbm5rA-E/s1600/aaaaat.png" /></a>So I thought about it. Career wise, when was the first time I was ever jealous of someone's career, and why? It took me under 4 seconds. When I was younger (I must have been 16?) I saw the movie Tomb Raider with Angelina Jolie. As a promotion for the movie, there was a bit on TV about how they filmed the action scenes. There was one in particular, where Ms. Jolie was swinging from the ceiling on a serious of ribbon-like ropes. In that second I thought to myself, "I want to do <em>that.</em>" <br />
<br />
Do <em>what? </em>Fly from ceilings and fight bad guys? No, not quite. Although that would also be a terrific experience, I'm not even sure how to make a resume for that sort of thing. No, no, no, I wanted to <em>act. </em><br />
<br />
I wanted to be a part of a story that moved people. I wanted the responsibility of having to learn something different for every job, to throw myself into a character <em>other than me. </em>I wanted the opportunity to be in different situations with different needs and different people. Something that was always changing. Something that revolved a story, whether real or not. I don't care about the long hours, the low income or the lack of stability. Hell the lack of stability is kind of a draw actually. <br />
<br />
Did I join the drama team in high school? No. I was an athlete, and for me a sports scholarship was the only way out of my family situation. I put all my time and effort into softball, just trying to find a way out of that town. Drama, speech and debate, band, all of it was pushed to the side. And it stayed there. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9tjy5tcXPweeUNKTREvgkcqk2dYZHPON1nBTLFvi6-tfNN-RCBRfLqpYnzNp4uJ6DZBXRB7ewPoFsHHqY6-B-Jl23Vb7Q7r96zc3sGQ8ncj7H7NyY4S2WCemyR1yGXgCMVMlIW8iEpA/s1600/aaasneakers.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9tjy5tcXPweeUNKTREvgkcqk2dYZHPON1nBTLFvi6-tfNN-RCBRfLqpYnzNp4uJ6DZBXRB7ewPoFsHHqY6-B-Jl23Vb7Q7r96zc3sGQ8ncj7H7NyY4S2WCemyR1yGXgCMVMlIW8iEpA/s1600/aaasneakers.png" /></a>And here's the kicker. Once you create an identify for yourself (whether it's accurate or not), changing that identity becomes quite taxing. Your entire social circle is based on how you portray yourself. For example, in high school I wore sweats and no makeup. When I went to college my freshman year I was the same way. I didn't even know how to wear makeup, much less heels or a dress. People knew me as the "tomboy". All of my friends were tomboys. That was my identity. <br />
<br />
But then I started wearing dresses and heels. Not because I was pressured by other people, but because <em>I had always wanted to, </em>I just didn't know how. And it <em>was </em>embarrassing at first. I didn't know how to walk in heels, it felt awkward to wear makeup, and I thought people were judging me in dresses. But secretly I loved it. It was the first time I felt could express who I was by what I wore. I loved how all of a sudden I became a woman instead of a guy with boobs. I had a sense of style. Sure I still love my sweats and still wear no makeup the vast majority of the time (I'm still the same girl), but I now I have another component of my identity. And I love it. <br />
<br />
It's the same problem with my career. The real reason I went into counseling? <em>Honestly? </em>Because I was comfortable with it. I was comfortable with people telling me horrific stories of their childhood because I had been there myself. I had empathy for them. I worked at a psych hospital because it's what I was comfortable with. I've been dealing with irrational and violent people my entire life; getting paid for it just seemed like second nature. <br />
<br />
So what am I getting at? This: I feel I'm in a career that I started because I was comfortable in it. It came naturally to me, so I kept along that path. I asked myself this, what <em>dream </em>counselor position am I jealous of?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUq6tfpGp-FhnEYNjjNbu0PR6tvW0WYWEt2ZqTmV11nelD9olBYNfJFHGBsfyC9fe5sZsabMbsOmbydcJL0-CJQgSFZjF9-plRtIpRj3Xjlq8QmG14UQAwGalOCIGE9qAhC8csXCjX3c/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUq6tfpGp-FhnEYNjjNbu0PR6tvW0WYWEt2ZqTmV11nelD9olBYNfJFHGBsfyC9fe5sZsabMbsOmbydcJL0-CJQgSFZjF9-plRtIpRj3Xjlq8QmG14UQAwGalOCIGE9qAhC8csXCjX3c/s1600/aaaaahmmm.png" /></a>Hmm.......<br />
<br />
None. A nutritional counselor would be pretty cool, but it's not what I <em>want </em>to do. It's what I feel I'd be good at. What about a forensic psychologist? Sure that would be interesting and challenging, but it's not what I <em>want </em>to do. As you can see by this<a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/am-i-normal.html"> <span style="color: red;"><strong>recent post</strong></span></a>, even before I started having troubles in my job I knew I had made the wrong decision. I mean who writes that when they've supposedly finally reached their career goals? <br />
<br />
I think my hobbies and my career interests were switched a long time ago. I wanted to major in music or art, but was told those were hobbies. I was interested in psychology and nutrition, and was told those were "career options." I was 18, listening to people "who knew best". So I did what I thought I was supposed to do. <br />
<br />
Well folks I'm not 18 anymore. I'm 26, and I'm done making excuses. I'm taking an acting class this fall (along with my 6 credits) just to see if I like it. Maybe I'll hate it, and then I can cross that off my list. But maybe I'll love it...and then who know? Don't worry, I'm not filling my head with anything, I just want to make sure I cover all my bases before I lock myself into anything. <br />
<br />
I'm excited. And by excited I mean terrified...but also excited. <br />
<br />
Have you ever taken a leap of faith? How did it turn out?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sarahsblogoffun.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_5VJ65krZqbsGiJh4LzaYY3TJr8XWL6f7KI0o7x1n44LEUTlNg-CB3s4-Lvo16QaaC2xlYGvCOj_0Nh9AEluUy45jGWo74KZZj2il3ncGRJfZdR2YBHCVmAVYbSjFr_0azxB6geGxM4/s400/T3+Button.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.onlyparentchronicles.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/That_One_Mom/Only%20Parent%20Chronicles%20Blog%20Design/PostItNoteTuesday-OnlyParentChronicles-FINALcopy.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.magicalmouseschoolhouse.com/"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_D7ftEAtWGwO933SpL0shwOZMTTGH6t53IZXfiHjj7rmjVQeT6kHfqv06Tot_f4I4FxiCSITLiciVs2baNVjCp0Zb4qcd1lvdSPyXFCT0cqcyNReIcJ1VIh3LzQPKgbfYMu5My1szmk/s200/Tiggerific+Tuesday+no+border.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.mymadmind.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y340/cwitgotoday/th_tt3.jpg?t=1282766687" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.busy-moms-tips-blog.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://www.busy-moms-tips.com/images/tuesday%20blog%20hop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://poshonabudget.com/"><img height="100" src="http://poshonabudget.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/tfc1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://blogging-hints.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Blogging Hints Catch a Wave Wednesday" height="100" src="http://www.busy-moms-tips.com/images/catch-a-wave-wednesday.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://jembellish.blogspot.com/search/label/creating%20to%20success"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://i895.photobucket.com/albums/ac152/creatingtosuccess/blog%20buttons%20-%20Creating%20my%20way%20to%20Success/Jillsbloghopbutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.random-dealz.com/search/label/Whimsical%20Wednesday" target="”_blank”"><img height="”100”" src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/tonyaj79/WhimsicalWednesday125x125.jpg" style="height: 100px; width: 100px;" /></a> <a href="http://dosweatthesmallstuffblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Thoughtful%20Thursday" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1097.photobucket.com/albums/g345/dosweatthesmallstuff/ThoughtfulThursdayBlogHop.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://wahmresourcesite.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOLgJaYTqsXGcHVK7CwKpHQ8lsa1I6zZzY17Q9X2wdXmuUX9_u0kslEsu59ByK77lCVBvdELFSz8yGlbgvd9_r2bFwERQGwJYxO4_nEv4aidd2YFl0YyytXffayyGz1-5ZuqZOnpssiw/s144/Blog%20Hop%20Butterfly%20Button-1.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.savedbylovecreations.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q304/johnnie231/ThriftyThurs.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/thankful-for-friends-thursday-gfc-blog-hop/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Thankful-for-Friends-Thursday-GFC-Blog-Hop.png" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-46922024897979042892011-08-14T23:27:00.004-06:002011-08-15T20:35:44.941-06:00Feeling Better, But Still A Bit Rambly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncF5IrZFBIDUi9p7ap9HyxfwJKTQcOUpRnsKq82GUl3mjIcwCBgV65udreY6t1CL7UCu7uU0w9MgtqWF0m_SPkFMaz1rrP5dTWOQWXlsl3ztRXCMdmLg29tPByZtuTtuxPDG76ajmVdQ/s1600/aaaaafe.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncF5IrZFBIDUi9p7ap9HyxfwJKTQcOUpRnsKq82GUl3mjIcwCBgV65udreY6t1CL7UCu7uU0w9MgtqWF0m_SPkFMaz1rrP5dTWOQWXlsl3ztRXCMdmLg29tPByZtuTtuxPDG76ajmVdQ/s1600/aaaaafe.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Well after the news I received on Friday, my boyfriend and some of his friends took me out to cheer me up. Four guys' idea of softening the blow of <a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-11-blessing-in-disguise.html"><span style="color: red;"><strong>losing my job</strong></span></a> came out as golf, beer, and a combination of chicken wings and jalapeno poppers. I'd say it worked. Tomorrow is Monday, and there's no feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I'm already excited to sleep in, go to the gym and get some errands done. My motivation for the week has been refilled. Funny, my training in mental health has equipped me with the ability to recognize the symptoms of depression and anxiety, yet when I was clearly displaying them myself (loss of sleep, loss of interest in daily hobbies/activities, change in appetite, feelings of sadness/guilt) I didn't recognize them. Glad I'm out of that mess.<br />
<br />
Having said that, I feel like I'm in a strange situation. I'll give you the rundown, but mostly for my own purposes of trying to keep everything straight in my head rather than explain it to the world. So feel free to skip this next paragraph if you're really only in this to leave a quick copy and paste comment at the bottom. It's okay, I won't judge you. I've done it before too. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPzBOhE2ZCbaYEQ5_YostOgH6N1s8-vzUx4ZnTA44fNjupzrpnvwT7ifO8KN4E4P-84F9TThlpMu6U06PowICHzg_TXQhmpJfOJXwI0yXBmOaF303NM5kUqQnmKc8u-Jj4_UlITloHEM/s1600/aaas.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPzBOhE2ZCbaYEQ5_YostOgH6N1s8-vzUx4ZnTA44fNjupzrpnvwT7ifO8KN4E4P-84F9TThlpMu6U06PowICHzg_TXQhmpJfOJXwI0yXBmOaF303NM5kUqQnmKc8u-Jj4_UlITloHEM/s1600/aaas.png" /></a>In short, I have 23 credits left to be able to finish both my Master's degree and the requirements that qualify me to obtain my LAC. Of those credits, 12 of them are internship. I am still registered to complete an internship at the same place I was just hired at, but was told they typically give intern positions to people they want to hire in the future so...well I think I know how that's going to turn out. Meaning I have nowhere set up for an internship. In order to finish my Master's I only have 6 more credits...but that's still a couple thousand dollars.<br />
<br />
I also still have my old job pulling night shifts at the psych hospital (I never officially quit when I got hired), but it's per diem. They haven't needed me in the last 2 months, but since I had the ice cream truck I wasn't complaining. Now that school's about to start in 2 weeks, I'm getting nervous. If they don't need me to work, I don't work. No hours mean no money, and no money means no school. I'm done with student loans, remember? <br />
<br />
So it's crossed my mind to take a semester off. I know what you're thinking. No - wait - hang on - just - <em>let me finish. </em>I know what happens to people who take semesters off. They never finish. They move...or join the military...or get pregnant. <em>You never hear from them again. </em>Well don't worry, I'm not going to be one of them (famous last words, right?). But the thought of possibly working 8 hours every two weeks combined with the fact that our roommate moved out last month has made me rethink how I should spend what little money I do have saved. <br />
<br />
With one exception.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHho8CNBawvtn3PdBGNSeuFFUUQsxk85Ir9EEi_0T2Mc4zAmDRd97ooGpeBsDvuFuWDKra3Sz7n-5kBGkaOex0dlDKII4RvV9l9t6RHe87Bl2Q1KsC7ZrvnQMFUrAIPkgJ27828XyU3M/s1600/aaaaho.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHho8CNBawvtn3PdBGNSeuFFUUQsxk85Ir9EEi_0T2Mc4zAmDRd97ooGpeBsDvuFuWDKra3Sz7n-5kBGkaOex0dlDKII4RvV9l9t6RHe87Bl2Q1KsC7ZrvnQMFUrAIPkgJ27828XyU3M/s1600/aaaaho.png" /></a>See during the three weeks I had a job, one of the (awesome) counselors I met gave me a little bit of advice. He said, "In this business, you have to find something on the side to throw yourself into. Otherwise, you spend every day working with mentally ill drug addicts, and you begin to think everyone in this town is either crazy or on something." Well said. Plus it made me realize this: I have nothing that I throw myself into anymore. It's school and work. That's it. <br />
<br />
So I took his advice to heart. I thought about everything that I used to enjoy doing. I came up with a million different things; writing, taking pictures, cooking, playing sports, writing music, painting, singing, dancing - and the list goes on. So many things, and I do none of them (save writing, I guess blogging falls into that category). But I decided to narrow it down a little by asking what all these things have in common, and I think it's this: they all involve doing something creative and new, and something that typically scares me. <br />
<br />
Writing music, painting, dancing; these are all forms of self expression put into the world for others to collect as their own, and then turn and twist to fit their own purpose. People aren't judging the song I just played for them, they're judging a piece of my soul I've made vulnerable through the music they've just heard. Sometimes they don't connect with it, and that can hurt a little, but sometimes they do, and that moment can never be duplicated. Maybe that's why I originally went into counseling...to connect with people. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIsswu3ETU3SCPHjh3wC4MeXlBMO5-YjqyMrpMaU7rsGT2XjhzbHxQPmx6uRR9Eo82wU_Is-GZm4R-dByX9X0-4ER9tPLd-CvenZl9w9uytfyYdp4R28EXJrs4qf3JAXMMu5VkxRxohc/s1600/aaaac.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIsswu3ETU3SCPHjh3wC4MeXlBMO5-YjqyMrpMaU7rsGT2XjhzbHxQPmx6uRR9Eo82wU_Is-GZm4R-dByX9X0-4ER9tPLd-CvenZl9w9uytfyYdp4R28EXJrs4qf3JAXMMu5VkxRxohc/s1600/aaaac.png" /></a></div><br />
So it's all pretty up in the air right now. Basically I just want to find a small time job that has absolutely nothing to do with counseling. Something simple that can pay some bills and get my mind off things. I'll see what I end up doing this fall. And besides that, I want to try something new. Something creative that scares me. Any suggestions? <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ftmommyferg.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="The Not-So-Secret Confessions of a First Time Mom" border="0" height="100" src="http://i332.photobucket.com/albums/m335/kayedani/newmondaybutton.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://moneysavvymichelle.com/tag/make-your-rank-lower-monday-alexa-blog-hop/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1116.photobucket.com/albums/k576/MoneySavvyMichelle/Alexa-blog-hop21.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.kdbuggieboutique.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i1044.photobucket.com/albums/b441/kshisley/th_minglemondaybutton-1.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.toughcookiemommy.com/" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://img580.imageshack.us/img580/232/bloghop.jpg" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://sweepingme.com/category/blog-hops/"><img height="100" src="http://i1090.photobucket.com/albums/i369/disney5274/nmmbhbutton.gif" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://www.singleparentretreat.com/"><img height="100" src="http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk189/4MyDesigns/Buttons/spr_bloghop_01a.png" width="100" /></a> <a href="http://chicnsavvyreviews.blogspot.com/2010/12/tuesday-blog-hop.html" target="_blank"><img height="100" src="http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z428/kapley/BlogHopTues.jpg" width="100" /></a> </div>Marleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01919798722837721242noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7481337450735198451.post-72878838529069611032011-08-13T09:31:00.014-06:002011-09-19T09:55:02.930-06:00Lesson 11: Blessing In Disguise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQHykJqYCYJP31ZZ2sG6MEC7sI3jHw4e3R52UdR2xSehTb3IDj1jMClkA7pQa9mYfIwe80ndaBkmONvX2teydFv8CFEWspQR-nLIVcNr9ysmanlc20_ANJsOdIo-D9-PtYtbHJnEc2BQ/s1600/aaaaafired.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQHykJqYCYJP31ZZ2sG6MEC7sI3jHw4e3R52UdR2xSehTb3IDj1jMClkA7pQa9mYfIwe80ndaBkmONvX2teydFv8CFEWspQR-nLIVcNr9ysmanlc20_ANJsOdIo-D9-PtYtbHJnEc2BQ/s1600/aaaaafired.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Well I got fired yesterday. First time ever. Brutal. <br />
<br />
I really can't say I was surprised. I couldn't help but have this overwhelming feeling that I'd been hired as part of a sick joke, and everyone was waiting for me to quit. The first week I felt awkward, but I tried to convince myself it was all a part of just being new. By the second week I was excluded and ignored, then after my boss "<a href="http://marleeindebt.blogspot.com/2011/08/lesson-10-im-big-kid-now.html"><strong><span style="color: red;">had words</span></strong></a>" with me, I felt like everyone was confused that I kept showing up. If I asked a question I was ignored, and if I made a statement I was met with condescending stares and then a rapid change of subject. The pit of my stomach grew heavier by the day. <br />
<br />
Finally, when my boss made a snide comment yesterday morning about whether or not I was "capable" of doing an aspect of my job (something an 8 year old could've done), it was that last straw. "It's a shame you feel I'm incapable of doing my job," I said. "Because I <em>know </em>I am fully capable of doing it, and doing it well. If this is how it's going to be than you need to make an executive decision because I'm not going to be bullied into quitting." <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwiAt4XKmQnawGg5C-Mnt6xRAUe9BZTGdA-O08E7pyAN6-oToAScGxYZD4UZKctPgROQp0E6V4YuZoCwuQ9fVMqZgHlgDltIld2oBwBfB42e_MZhNAJxheJaRGDB0zuULwVLIejeMZvt4/s1600/zzzzdepres.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwiAt4XKmQnawGg5C-Mnt6xRAUe9BZTGdA-O08E7pyAN6-oToAScGxYZD4UZKctPgROQp0E6V4YuZoCwuQ9fVMqZgHlgDltIld2oBwBfB42e_MZhNAJxheJaRGDB0zuULwVLIejeMZvt4/s1600/zzzzdepres.png" /></a>Well apparently an executive decision was made, because as of 2:00 yesterday afternoon, I was told I "Just wasn't a good fit." No sh*t I wasn't a good fit. I was miserable. I've been losing sleep for the last two weeks. I typically go for a run or a swim everyday, but the last 14 days? I've gone twice. On Tuesday my boyfriend and I were driving around town looking at future dream houses when he said, "I wish we lived in that house." I replied with, "I wish it was Friday," and started crying. <br />
<br />
Here's something that will put it into perspective. Last Wednesday, after finishing five hours of typing while incarcerated in my solitary cubicle, I opened my notebook and wrote this: <br />
<br />
<em>There's nothing quite as depressing as the sound of silence in a cubicle. </em><br />
<br />
<em>The incessant buzzing of the air conditioner and the relentless squeaking of a run-down office chair fills the air, broken only by the telltale sound of an employee attempting to surreptitiously remove the Ceran wrap from her late lunch. Fingers scurry across keyboards, mouses click, and chipper voices answer phones with that identical artificially caring voice they've used for the last 10 years. I sit in the back, as close to the only window as possible, undaunted by the measly view it provides. The sight of the adjacent building, just two feet away, is the only connection I have to a world outside my own. This, ladies and gentlemen, is my nightmare. </em><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsn-MTYYlH71gz2bZXN6J725dQtJG1vudqHH6MAdkPhucvZ4unRtD-7kI09Rn9mqHYx67jkS1DdLZLTxGD_MMMB506w-QvONalaimZmzkD-ul_V7iOqx4S7pdYEDaRqLeFiWOAzPXkATA/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsn-MTYYlH71gz2bZXN6J725dQtJG1vudqHH6MAdkPhucvZ4unRtD-7kI09Rn9mqHYx67jkS1DdLZLTxGD_MMMB506w-QvONalaimZmzkD-ul_V7iOqx4S7pdYEDaRqLeFiWOAzPXkATA/s1600/aaaaaofff.png" /></a><em>I have decided that an office is the ultimate prison; one designed to keep its prisoners willingly confined, brainwashed by the sight of the strategically placed metaphorical carrot just inches beyond their grasp. I feel as if I have signed a contract without reading the fine print, ushered ahead to the next important benefit while passing over the sacrifices needed to reach said benefit. Even the fluorescent lights above flicker to remind me of the task at hand, like the most effective of prison guards; jarring and emotionless. </em><br />
<br />
<em>I stare at the computer screen before me and click my pen against my teeth, the scent of Windex and carpet hanging in the air. This is not my computer. This is not my desk. This is Patty's desk, and hers is the bar to which all following cubicles will be measured. Her functional knick-knacks confuse me, and I feel even more out of place. A container of goo meant to make your fingers sticky (for turning pages) and a bottle of Germ-ex sit directly next to the keyboard. I do not own a bottle of Germ-ex. I welcome the dirt and grime of the natural world. Oh how I long for the touch of grass...</em><br />
<br />
<em>Next to a colorful array of pens (the likely only allowed form of creativity or self-expression), is a palm tree post-it note container, symbolizing the relaxing beach she has probably desperately been saving her vacation days for. Everyone knows Patty doesn't like to travel though, her cat gets car sick. It's a shame, really. She has months worth of vacation days saved up, and her cat no doubt could benefit from a day outside its one bedroom apartment. Her planner hangs on the cork-board to the right, rows of assignments filling it: typing, filing, interviewing, typing, staffing. Every summer this will be how I spend my time. I am the next generation of Patty's. </em><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3e-gWScpO0oVbpG1Pv40RGZXbfhzdlfvYCn_Y1P1qARHrFDyEVKINAzUoonIKCwdmRZ2puoNzXHTgHD0abWdVWCQkT8r1HCBSDCp3NpFEkaRzPzP7-MVwC53Cg8CXcs3jo1DH-Ax7XuY/s1600/aaaainsp.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3e-gWScpO0oVbpG1Pv40RGZXbfhzdlfvYCn_Y1P1qARHrFDyEVKINAzUoonIKCwdmRZ2puoNzXHTgHD0abWdVWCQkT8r1HCBSDCp3NpFEkaRzPzP7-MVwC53Cg8CXcs3jo1DH-Ax7XuY/s1600/aaaainsp.png" /></a><em>But the most disheartening trinket of all, is the digital calender on her computer that displays a different "inspirational phrase" daily.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Today's? "Smile. I like your sense of humor." Wait, what? A computer is telling me it likes my sense of humor? I have already discovered that no one in this particular job likes my sense of humor, so it's ironic that a computer would have that opinion. Rather, I think it's mocking me. Mocking my lack of humor and instead exposing my dutiful, uninspiring appropriateness that has replaced it. Within three weeks my wit has given way to internal cynicism. I used to be funny. </em><br />
<br />
<em>My stare is broken by the flicker of the fluorescent prison guard. Back to work. Deep breaths...</em><br />
<br />
So it's safe to say I'm quite relieved to not have to go back on Monday. Also I believe I have now developed an irrational fear of palm tree post-it note containers. <br />
<br />
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