<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492</id><updated>2011-07-07T13:22:40.617-07:00</updated><category term='pictures'/><category term='italian'/><category term='Emotions'/><category term='tom'/><category term='Papa'/><category term='road trip'/><category term='movies'/><category term='detroit'/><category term='Rachel'/><category term='erin'/><category term='holiday'/><category term='cheap'/><category term='music'/><category term='vistors'/><category term='happy'/><category term='school'/><category term='faith'/><category term='apartment'/><category term='move'/><category term='meds'/><category term='life'/><category term='working out'/><category term='job'/><category term='Bento'/><category term='memories'/><category term='family'/><category term='Success'/><category term='sacred'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='sick'/><category term='football'/><category term='bed'/><category term='love'/><category term='sadness'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Grace in the Grey</title><subtitle type='html'>The story of girl.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7333651293994641130</id><published>2009-10-19T19:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T19:52:40.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the ecclesiasties* of my life?</title><content type='html'>i was officially hired by someone. Thursday i begin working at New York and Co. doing the "holiday help" thing. It's part time. IF &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; a rock star, I might get 20 hours. Otherwise, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; looking at 0-15. Part of me is looking forward to it. It's SOMETHING. it's anything apart from doing nothing all day long. And maybe it will be fun. However, it doesn't even come close to meeting the financial &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;obligations&lt;/span&gt; i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another interview at Bath and Body Works today. In said interview, the manager said it was again "holiday help" and that we could expect 3 to 5 hours a week. WHAT?!?! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; trying to make a living! at this rate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; going to need not two jobs, but 10!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose when all is said and done. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt; will have two jobs. He worked 57 hours last week. Which is a blessing and, of course, a curse. We need the work. We need the money. But he's so tired and we get very few precious hours together. And I will have one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;retail&lt;/span&gt; job and hopefully a second job of some sorts. We have the one car. and minimal bills. and yet. we will work long hard hours. for little pay. not seeing each other much. juggling schedules. and i really find myself feeling depressed and wondering what is the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do we do all of this? how did we get here? and who did i piss off so i could gravel at their feet to fix it?  it just seems so very meaningless. and i know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not the only one in this place. but i wish i had an answer. i feel like my life got hit by a 2 x 4 back to negative square one, and i didn't see it coming and i just don't understand. and i don't know the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to go pick up my big ole bear ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I know i spelt that wrong. but you get the point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7333651293994641130?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7333651293994641130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7333651293994641130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7333651293994641130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7333651293994641130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/10/ecclesiasties-of-my-life.html' title='the ecclesiasties* of my life?'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2932983088416930828</id><published>2009-10-18T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T17:29:00.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in the words of....</title><content type='html'>sometimes you hear a song or watch a show or read a blip and all of a sudden you can't breath becuase in that instant whatever you just heard put words to the place you are, the thoughts you've had, or the feelings you just don't seem to be able to express any other way. I had a couple of those moments in the last couple of days and so... here they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the song playing as i waited for my interview at NY &amp;amp; Co.:&lt;br /&gt;She got the call today&lt;br /&gt;One out of the gray&lt;br /&gt;And when the smoke cleared&lt;br /&gt;It took her breath away&lt;br /&gt;She said she didn't believe&lt;br /&gt;It could happen to me&lt;br /&gt;I guess we're all one phone call from our knees&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;If every building falls&lt;br /&gt;And all the stars fade&lt;br /&gt;We'll still be singin' this song&lt;br /&gt;The one they can't take away&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get there soon,&lt;br /&gt;She's gonna be there too&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' in her room&lt;br /&gt;Prayin' Lord, come through&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]Oh it's your light,&lt;br /&gt;Oh it's your way,&lt;br /&gt;Pull me out of the dark&lt;br /&gt;Just to show me the way&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' out now&lt;br /&gt;From so far away...&lt;br /&gt;You pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Meet me once again&lt;br /&gt;Down off Lake Michigan&lt;br /&gt;Where we could feel the storm blowin' down with the wind&lt;br /&gt;And don't apologize&lt;br /&gt;For all the tears you've cried&lt;br /&gt;You've been way too strong now for all your life&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get there soon,&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna be there too&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' in your room,&lt;br /&gt;Prayin' Lord come through&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]Oh, it's your light&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's your way&lt;br /&gt;Pull me out of the dark&lt;br /&gt;Just to show me the way&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' out now&lt;br /&gt;From so far away...Pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love'&lt;br /&gt;Cause you are all that I've waited for&lt;br /&gt;All of my life (We're gonna get there)&lt;br /&gt;You are all that I've waited for&lt;br /&gt;All of my life&lt;br /&gt;You pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love, oh no&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two scenes from Grey Anatmony this week. and while they aren't the exact issues i face. i must say it captured the way i feel. ooooh my theraputic greys'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Callie: ...You should have adjusted by now. i mean you are supposed to love me no matter what. that's what a parent does.&lt;br /&gt;Her Dad: i love you with all my heart, but with all that's going on with you right now. I'm scared for you. Its an abomination. Its an eternity in hell.&lt;br /&gt;The Priest: Let's not start with words like "hell".&lt;br /&gt;Callie: OH. that's why you flew 3,000 miles??? to tell me i was going to Hell?!? I thought you came here to apologize.&lt;br /&gt;Her Dad: I cant' apologize Callie. I don't understnad what happened or where I went wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Callie: Where you went "wrong"?&lt;br /&gt;Her Dad: (pulls paper out) Leviticus, "Thou shalt not lie with a man as one does with a female..."&lt;br /&gt;Callie: Oh don't do that...&lt;br /&gt;Her Father: ... "it is an abomination"....&lt;br /&gt;Callie:... don't quote the Bible at me....&lt;br /&gt;Her Father: ..."the outcry of Sodom &amp;amp; Gamora is great" and there is this, "it is exceedingly grave"...&lt;br /&gt;The Priest: Carlos, this is not what we....&lt;br /&gt;Callie: JESUS. "a new commandment that i give unto you that you love one another."&lt;br /&gt;Her Dad: ROMANS. "we know that..."&lt;br /&gt;Callie: JESUS. "to he who is without sin, let him cast the first stone."&lt;br /&gt;Her Dad: so you admit that it's a sin?&lt;br /&gt;Callie: "Blessed are the mercyful for they shall obtain mercy". JESUS. "Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God". JESUS. "Blessed are those who have been persecuted fro righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Jesus is my savior daddy, not you. and Jesus would be ashamed of you for judging me. He would be ashamed of you for turning your back on me. He would be ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the second scene from greys.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mer: Christina?&lt;br /&gt;Christina: (crying)&lt;br /&gt;Mer: Christina? Christina. Talk to me&lt;br /&gt;Christina: (sobbing) No.&lt;br /&gt;Mer: Christina.&lt;br /&gt;Christina: (gasping)&lt;br /&gt;Mer: What happened?&lt;br /&gt;Christina: (sobbing)&lt;br /&gt;Mer: Talk to me. Tell me what happened.&lt;br /&gt;Christina: (through sobs) Nothing! Nothing. is. happening to me. i know. I know... i don't know what I'm doing. I'm chasing after surgerys I don't care about (gasp, pause). Do you know how long it's been since i've held a haeart in my hand? Since I've felt , that, that, joy (gasp) that rush&gt; (gasp) I miss Burke. I miss him all day. I, I, I, miss... It's not the relationship... I miss... Everyday when he was here I held hearts. and I got picked, not because of some favoritism but just because it was right. and I learned. I learned. (pause, sob) And I felt seen. And now, you know what? I don't know what... I've spent this entire day fighting (gasp) and I don't wanna do it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course... the Private Practice....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addison: Nobody beat me. Nobody tried to steal my baby. Nobody stabbed me. BUT. I am wounded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sam&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Sam: Noah?&lt;br /&gt;Addison: *sigh* my heart is broken. And I shouldn't even complain about it because Nothing happened. I mean. nothing. happened to me. Not like what happened to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;larsons&lt;/span&gt;, and Violet. You know sometimes I'm almost jealous of them because everybody can see their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;injuries&lt;/span&gt; and so they have a right to be messed up. I sent Noah back to his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wife&lt;/span&gt;. I did the right thing. and... my heart is broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just a few good scenes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2932983088416930828?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2932983088416930828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2932983088416930828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2932983088416930828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2932983088416930828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-words-of.html' title='in the words of....'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4607115433397052559</id><published>2009-10-12T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T09:07:15.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and he's off...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt; just left for his first day of work at Wayne/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Westland&lt;/span&gt;. It's very exciting, I suppose. I'm proud of him - no doubt. But I am left to feel like a bit of a loser. He has two jobs and i can't seem to find one. Not for lack of trying. I think for every job he has applied for, I have applied for 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not used to being supported by a man or really by anyone. I have always, always, always worked hard. I started working working when I was in 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade (about 11) cleaning toilets, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;vacuuming&lt;/span&gt; and dusting at my mom's 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; job after school. I made $2 an hour and worked about 7 to 10 hours a week. And from that point on, if I wanted anything - a snack or toy or makeup or clothes or anything for myself - i saved up and bought it. I worked all through school. I worked while Erin was sick. I worked through college. And when we owed several grand in taxes in '05, i picked up a part-time job &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;on top&lt;/span&gt; of the full time job to pay them off. Of course, there have most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;undoubtedly&lt;/span&gt; been acts of kindness and gifts here and there that at times filled the gap, but for the most part it's been up to me to find a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I feel a little lost. Unable to find work and playing the supporting role - making lunches, giving pep talks, and keeping my little space clean. I think if we had a family or even our own place, I wouldn't feel as much as a loser. At least then I would have something I was responsible for. like - taking care of the kids, keeping the house tidy. I'm not opposed to the homemaker job. The problem is that you have to have a HOME to BE a "homemaker".  In addition, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt; doesn't make enough with the two jobs to make ends meet - so me getting work is, indeed, essential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today is scouting out online all the places I plan to apply to in person this week. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Gunna&lt;/span&gt; hit up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;westland&lt;/span&gt; mall and the strip along warren. It's a busy place and Christmas is coming at the very least which means holiday help. So fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't make through my "To- Do" List on Saturday because the guilt of not helping clean the basement with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tommy's&lt;/span&gt; folks got to me. It wore me right down at lunchtime and I gave in. My stupid caring heart.  So I have some of those things to accomplish. Top priority: making &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt; that map. He really does have bad direction and will need some help knowing where all the schools are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4607115433397052559?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4607115433397052559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4607115433397052559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4607115433397052559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4607115433397052559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/10/and-hes-off.html' title='and he&apos;s off...'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-8062462484436587791</id><published>2009-10-10T08:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T08:16:31.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To-Do list</title><content type='html'>1. make map for tommy of all the schools in the Wayne/Westland School District as he has very poor directional skill and will need map to get to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. put together gameplan for applying for waitressing jobs along warren road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. File the pile that is on top the fileing box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. vaccuum the room. (DONE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. figure out how much i have to make to cover the rest of the bills that tommy's two jobs don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. research the cost of getting stuff back as will need in the next month in a half. make sure we've hit the savings goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. play farkle, facebook, watch movies and generally anything to keep me "occupied" (i.e. in my room) until tommy gets off work at 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is journal entry in style of Bridget Jones, as I am almost completely finished with first book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-8062462484436587791?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/8062462484436587791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=8062462484436587791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8062462484436587791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8062462484436587791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/10/to-do-list.html' title='To-Do list'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-5097532693563665573</id><published>2009-10-09T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:07:48.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is "it".</title><content type='html'>for the last month or two, i've been thinking about happiness. and being happy despite the circumstances. i've thought out these long blogs in my head as i drive or take a shower. but, never actually sit down to write them. i had a blog in my head about what it &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; means to live in the grey. but i didn't write that one either. i think i might be the best non-blogger EVER! i should add THAT to my resume. *hmph* the problem is once i write all these "non-blogs" in my head, once i do sit down to write, I feel that I &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; write them. I mean, after all, they have been waiting their turn. But instead, I sit down to write, beside myself with emotion and can't think straight for anything to write any kind of intelligible blog. [i just reread that sentence "beside myself with emotion" and can hear lor giggling and jason making some sarcastic comment about how "what? does that mean you climbed out of yourself to sit next to yourself in emotion???" but hey, i'm leaving it in anyways ;)]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, too much emotion to write a thoughtful blog and not simply a rant about how my life sucks. which i hate. but not sure how to stop. the truth is, i'm so miserable right now that i don't know if it's even possible for me not to be. or what that even begins to look like. miserable to the point that i don't even know the point of waking up every day is. because every day is the same horribleness. everyday is co-existing with people who merely tolerate me on a good day. and the bad days - oh my god - aren't blog appropriate. everyday is no job. Everyday is hunting for said job just to be told "the position has been filled" or simply hear nothing at all. every day's highlight is changing my facebook status to something pathetic or fronting optimism hoping i might believe it if i say it enough. and i'm just not quite sure the point anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, i'm not sure what to say. i have no answers. i have no hope left. and i'm left frustrated and angry and sad and after months, hell - YEARS, of fighting, of hanging on "just a little bit longer", and telling myself it has to get better. I think very well the truth might be: this is it. there is no better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-5097532693563665573?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/5097532693563665573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=5097532693563665573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5097532693563665573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5097532693563665573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-it.html' title='This is &quot;it&quot;.'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-3633872111243767222</id><published>2009-08-18T13:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T13:58:15.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>crappy rant #43</title><content type='html'>If a blog can be a "get your thoughts out of your head and into space", can it also be begging forum to the unknown space for a job???? My unemployment is running out. The new claim is denied as expected and i believe i have 13 weeks of federal extension left (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not positive just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gunna&lt;/span&gt; have to wait and see) - and then, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; s.o.l.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's hard for me to believe that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been jobless so long. I find myself driving and thinking to myself, could it REALLY be over a year now??? and i find myself thinking i must have done something wrong. made some wrong choice. blew off some offer somewhere. but i haven't. nothing. there have been no offers. i have applied like gang-busters for a year and nothing. I went back to school to become more marketable. nothing. I really just don't know what I could do different. or why my life is taking this path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i lay in bed at night and wonder what i did wrong. or if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cosmical&lt;/span&gt; punished for something. i haven't been perfect. but i don't think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; really done anything to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;warrant&lt;/span&gt; such a negative down turn of life. like a decade down turn???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just getting to that point where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; just got nothing else to give. niceness seems gone. patience - gone. happiness - ha! that was gone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;LoooooooOOOOOooong&lt;/span&gt; ago. my grace for others is slipping. thoughtfulness just seem annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywho, if a blog can be a begging to cosmic web-gods for a job... this is mine. Ppppppplllllleeeeeaaaase. i'm a really good worker. i won't leave after 2 years. and i'm not always this much of a debbie-downer. i actually, once-upon-a-time, was considered a valuable asset to a company. and i will do good things for yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my fingers are crossed in desperate act of begging for job - the schoolcraft one - it's my last good feeler out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and dinner is served... *sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-3633872111243767222?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/3633872111243767222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=3633872111243767222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3633872111243767222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3633872111243767222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/08/crappy-rant-43.html' title='crappy rant #43'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-6954825603782614937</id><published>2009-08-16T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T20:56:39.817-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>Thomas... the doubter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;tonight was a dinner of parental meetings. my mom was in town and had the chance to meet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tommy's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; 'rent's. all in all, i think it went well.  My mom was raised Independent Baptist and now attends a non-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;denom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; via Southern Baptist and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tommy's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; parents go to a former Southern Baptist now just a non-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;denom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, as well. and it gave a foundation for them to connect on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;Two distinct low points in the dinner. Both centered around the tension between my mom and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;One, my mother finished saying something and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; started to change the subject and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;interrupted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; him to ask a question that related to the mom's finished story. I said, "sorry to interrupt you.." and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, having worked all day and being on edge for several reason's responded in what I like to call "big brother antagonism" said, "actually you did mean to interrupt me..." but knowing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; you know that the finish to that statement is that he didn't mind a bit that i interrupted him but needed to point out that I DID in fact, MEAN to interrupt him. (which i did, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;tis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; true) Like i said... "big brother antagonism". my mother, being my mother, felt the need to stick up for me and tell &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; that was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;nice, at all. which created tension. because despite what my mother says, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; pretty sure she is not the fondest of my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; mate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; also pretty sure that there isn't anyone who walks this earth that w o u l d qualify.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;two, one story led to another story and the next thing you know, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; is telling one of his pet peeve stories about a woman who lost a glove in a parking lot where he was working. The woman called and asked if it had been found, in which, it had. The woman then was extremely happy and stated she had prayed that God would help her find her glove and he did. This annoys &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; to no end because of what it says about God. That while children die of starvation or disease (just pick one) and parents pray while they are blue in the face and God does not answer their prayers or save them. BUT God does help crazy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;middle age&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; ladies find gloves they lost. And from there we got a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;miniature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; sermon on why God answers one prayer and not others. And the message made clear on how my mum disagrees with the theology of said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; mate. tension. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;it really all boils down to misunderstanding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;But it brought up once again a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;reoccurring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; theme with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, me, God, and other peoples opinions. I would say the consensus of other peoples opinions is that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; and probably myself are far from the beaten path of faith and to put it nicely, f-ed in the head when it comes to theology. I am far less vocal than &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, so unfortunately, he takes the brunt of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;criticism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; from family. But the truth of it is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;thomas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, true to his Biblical namesake, is a doubter. a questioner. a person who wants to ask questions until he finds the answer and if he can't find the answer - try and make you ask the question too.  It is something I adore about him and also share with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;After leaving the cult and a time of life where i accepted everything without question, I have become far less trusting and much more of an independent thinker. Tommy has only furthered my own personal question asking journey. Like seriously, how is it that the God of the old testament is so different from the one of the new? or how come God let Job suffer for a bet like he was just an evening at the casino? or why is it I get the crap end of the stick while &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;some other&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;smuck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; sits on their butt and everything works out their way? or we accept Ester as part of the Bible which doesn't mention God ONCE, but if a Christian does the same - they are a heathen? What if the old testament stories didn't happen... what if they are just lessons? Why does the christian community shame a couple like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; and I living together, but if we were married be okay with it? (Because technically the Bible says that since &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; divorced... remarried or not, we're both sinning) The questions, the discrepancies between one principle that is held up and the next that isn't in the church, it's kind of disgusting. and i really get why people wouldn't want to be Christians or go to church.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Cuz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; it's kind of a mess. A big ugly confusing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;mudpile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;woodstock&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;proportion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; M E S S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;But here's the kicker. at the end of the day, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; and I are still believers. we still believe in God. we have experienced things in this life that are unexplained by rational or even words. We just ask the questions and search for the answers and wait. and wait. and wait. And in the case of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, he likes to make you ask the questions too. And the more I live, the more I don't understand. And the less I have some black and white rule book in the Bible that has "all the answers" like I thought when i was kid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Cuz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; it doesn't. BUT I"M OKAY WITH THAT.  and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; okay with the fact that i don't get it. well... "okay" maybe a REALLY big picture feeling. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; right now, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; say my mood ring is more on the "frustrated to angry" color. But that's okay too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;What's frustrating is people like my mom who pass judgement on those that are willing to ask the questions. To hunt the answers down for themselves till it makes sense. Or simply waits in frustration in some spiritual eye blinking contest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;After all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;, if your God isn't big enough to handle a few questions, a few angry sobs, and a stand your ground tug of war contest... then maybe he shouldn't be your God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-6954825603782614937?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/6954825603782614937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=6954825603782614937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6954825603782614937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6954825603782614937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/08/thomas-doubter.html' title='Thomas... the doubter'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-1792863251798746159</id><published>2009-08-05T07:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T08:12:52.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope for the Hopeless ???</title><content type='html'>ever want to just crap on hope? or imagine a pie hitting happy people? or take weird comfort when the sweetest people post their fb status as grumpy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laid down to take a nap yesterday and overheard part of a conversation begun by the youngest Benson. It started with "i think we should all read Job". Which began an interesting talk about the life of Job and how things are difficult now but how God is teaching us something. Like to appreciate the good things we have or how good it's been up until now. And I fell asleep thinking of Job and such thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the first time i've thought of Job. i don't believe it's even the first time i've blogged about such. When I was a child, all things bible and God were banned in our house and so my mother creatively told us "stories" that I would later find out were simply Bible stories. And Job was a favorite. I don't know if she told it often because life with my dad was so repressive or because we asked for it. But it's the one story that I remember her telling a lot on car rides across town. It's a story i'm quite familiar with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high school, just a few years younger than youngest Benson, I attempted to read Job. I've attempted or completed reading it many times actually. Because when you've had as "bumpy" of a life as mine, you cling to the story of the person with the crap life that eventually gets redeemed, right? But as I lay there it seems, God felt like placing a bet with his archenemies and he thought Job was a good bet. So life craps on Job and when Job has nothing left, finally Job gives up and then God yells at Job for not having enough faith and for complaining and reminding Job that God is in control of everything and then he gives back to Job 10-fold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the point is God's a betting man? He likes to play games with your life? He'll take everything away because he can and if you suffer well then he'll give it back 10-fold? All my life i excepted these lessons as acceptable. the way it all just works. but after all these years of life crapping on me, it just doesn't seem acceptable anymore. I mean, seriously??? this is what we get? needless to say i'm not okay with it. If this is the way it works - the way sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I feel guilty for thinking that, and feel the strange need to look over my shoulder to check and see if lightening is gunna strike.  But at the same time, I challenge it. a rebellion against the status quo - what would happen God actually did strike? to a certain degree, I do think I would welcome that. Because maybe then we skip the all the politeness and christennese dance and I could just have the truth right there - untampered by belief systems and religious secs, and humans who think they get it.  or He would just put me out of my misery which doesn't seem like a bad option at all. I think it could be a win-win situation. At the very least a break in the mind-numbing day to day of nothingness which takes form in job hunting, packing, cleaning and trying to fit with a people who seem oblivious to the fact i'm busting my arse to fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i know i'm a real debbie downer. it's just that i've been holding out hope for sooooooo long it's gunna turn around, that it will get better, that tomorrow is one more step toward the life I desire. and it doesn't. just when it looks like it's gunna get better - something super crappy happens. what is the proverb - unfulfilled hope makes the heart sick? something like that. too bad there's no follow up verse on how to avoid such unfulfilled hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i used to think I was a nice person, but i seriously doubt it these days. I don't think a nice person hates happy people. but I just can't seem to help myself. it just happens all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my one bit of hope - the State Farm lady called asked a BUNCH of questions and then told me she was going to refund my deductible. in which i told her that i loved her and started crying. i think she thought I was crazy. and i'm trying to think how this is a good thing. a happy thing. a sign for better days. but truth be told i'm incredibly skeptical - just waiting for the next shoe to drop full of crap. so, we'll see. as for Job - i'm still waiting and holding out hope that someone wrote the story wrong and that God will show up pissed that someone on the writing staff took too much creative liberty and hand us a copy of the unedited version of Job along with never before seen authors notes explaining stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-1792863251798746159?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/1792863251798746159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=1792863251798746159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/1792863251798746159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/1792863251798746159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/08/hope-for-hopeless.html' title='Hope for the Hopeless ???'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7947718327546221755</id><published>2009-07-23T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T12:44:51.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I give up</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure anyone ACTUALLY will read this since it &lt;em&gt;has&lt;/em&gt; been F O R E V E R since i blogged. I could do a whole stupid "update", but anyone who reads this knows i'm back in Michigan and they know why. and that despite my personally pity party at this moment - i am relatively pleased that i'm here. because the truth of the matter is that things would suck this bad if we were anywhere... at least it gets to suck with our friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has been in transition for two years. And I feel I have taken it like a champ, relatively speaking. Not to mention that the three years before that were pretty much miserable. So now at the end of 5 years I am homeless, jobless, carless, and pretty much pennyless. Everything I own is in storage in Georgia. I sleep on an air mattress and live out of a bag. I have given up on having any kind of deep meaningful relationship with my family and i am trying to come to grips that I am just different and despite my efforts we will not agree on a great many things and they will always think I am someone I am not. The best to hope for is small talk and day to day "hows the weather" conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep waiting for life to begin. Bonding conversations with new family. Fitting in somewhere. Eventually getting our own place. Getting married again. children. but I approach 30 and the truth of the matter is I have nothing more than I had when I was 19 and first moved to Michigan. Except perhaps myself. A better understanding of myself and a little more sanity, but that came out of, honestly, just more heartache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today seems to be a particularly difficult day. I should be happy but in the mist of someone elses joy, I can only see how miserable my life is. And I want to just give up. cuz where does it all get you? and why even try? Because I seem to be the person denstined for crap. and the short end of the really stinky stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voice in my head dictated by my upbringing says "well there must be some purpose in it all. some lesson to learn." Which only makes anger rise in me, cuz seriously? i'm not resisting learning. do we REALLY think it's necessary to go to these extremes??? not to mention if this is the way someone teaches - then I think they need a better system. cuz it sucks. i don't like it. and it makes me angry. and honestly, what is the purpose of taking everything a person has in life and making it crap so they feel like crap? well, crappy feeling achieved. perhaps we could move on now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways. i give up. i raise the white flag.&lt;br /&gt;bleh. my pity party even annoys me.&lt;br /&gt;retarded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7947718327546221755?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7947718327546221755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7947718327546221755' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7947718327546221755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7947718327546221755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-give-up.html' title='I give up'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4499748902997188312</id><published>2009-03-13T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T06:30:43.550-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Two weeks into the School game</title><content type='html'>So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; just about done with two weeks of school. It's been enough time that I know what i like and what I don't.  I've learned that I read better in the mornings and I should leave "activity" sorts of things to the afternoon. It's become a really good pattern for me.  So that I am now reading the chapters required for class BEFORE i go to class which makes me able to interact with the material in class and on the discussion boards sooner... which is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Classes I have this Session A:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Career Development - It's all about understanding yourself and what motivates you so you know what types of careers are ones you will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;succeed&lt;/span&gt; in. It's also about finding "hidden" jobs and knowing the best way to interview. It's like one GIANT 8 week career coaching class. As a psych. lady... i find it a pretty interesting class. However, it's rather demanding with the work load, but i think it's worth a ton. Especially in THIS economy where you need to be on top of the game to get the jobs that are out there. If ANYONE, would like tips or to know some of the interesting ways to get a job... let me know. I shall share my knowledge!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Project Management - It's pretty much what it sounds like... learning how to manage projects. Projects happen ALL the time in companies. Heck, I just got laid off from a company where all we DID were projects. And there is a WHOLE philosophy and researched way on how to do them efficiently and effectively. It's like a whole other language. But I like it. My mom teaches this class, as well. So we have not mentioned the relationship part in class, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; pretty sure all the students recognize that we how knowledge of each other that extends outside the classroom.  We also learn about the MS project software and how to use it to run a project. So it's cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Database Management - I decided to take this course as my elective business credit. Mostly because Access is my weakest software. While i think it will bring my software knowledge up to an expert level rather than that working knowledge bit... I hate the class. the professor is unprepared and  well, just a crap professor. We spent TWO hours of class talking about tangents. Not even really covering the text and material we needed to cover. Which when it's 8:30 at night and you haven't even yet begun to dive into what you need to... it's really frustrating. Also, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; the only white girl in the class and last class the entire class (including prof) decided to get into a conversation about "laws not being applied equally" and "how they never would". They were using the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Madoff&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Vicks&lt;/span&gt; case as examples. The only conclusion I could come to was race. Talk about freaking uncomfortable. What is the only little white girl suppose to say???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Business Law - It's a drive across town for me. So i usually go early to avoid traffic. It's law and stuff. Pretty interesting, I think. We get to write a fun paper on a justice. so that's cool. The class is very "lively" in the words of the prof (a lawyer for 20 years). I would tend to agree with him. Class is usually the entire 4 hours because the class HAS to talk through EVERYTHING. You would think it was a "get free legal advice class". while it gets a bit annoying at times, there are some pretty freaking funny moments. One little southern girl actually volunteered the information that she had been on birth control for 10 years but went off of it this year because after 10 years you should do that. WHAT?!?! exactly... rare moments that usually amazingly entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senior Project - this one stretches out across both Session A and B. It's about putting into practice everything you have learned in real life. So you go out, find a company that would like some free work done for them and do it. My original plan was to speak to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;DeVry&lt;/span&gt; president (a friend of moms) in regards to a new position that is opening, one i would like to apply for... and do my senior project in relation to the position opening up. The idea being that once they saw the work I could do - I would have a job. And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;afterall&lt;/span&gt;... going back to school to finish this darn degree is all about getting a job. HOWEVER, said president is not returning my calls and I REALLY need to have something in motion by tomorrow... really end of business today... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; nothing is happening before class tomorrow. so. there is a plan B. I don't know details, but it's a former student who is starting or working with a start-up non-profit that needs 1. a website designed 2. a logo created and 3. an organizational process for whatever is they are going to do put into place. It has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;definite&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;potential&lt;/span&gt;. I can create logos and processes. Totally. Website design... my mind reaches FAR back into itself when i did LIGHT website design in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;tyndale&lt;/span&gt; days for fun with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;lor&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt;... it's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt;. Mom has also assured me with all the templates out there... I would have NO problem. we shall see. I'm trying one more time with the president today and after that... I'll have to switch gears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around here at the house, I study, read, do thread discussions (every class requires usually 4 posts &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;during&lt;/span&gt; the week) and other stuff. I've been the house cleaning lady... but with school taking up 90% of my time. The house has gone to pot. oh well. I also have been feeding my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;indian&lt;/span&gt; mama at the nursing home about 4 times a week, too. Which means my Georgia friends are all over the age of 70 with advanced &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/span&gt;. but i must say it's a nice way to mix my day up. I visit with Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Velza&lt;/span&gt;, Ms. Ginny, Ms. Shirley, Ms. Harriet, and Ms. Blanche while i feed and walk mama around. it's nice to see there little faces light up when i walk in and they get to tell me about what they did that day. Most of them don't have families that visit them. so I try to make a point to say hello and ask them how things are going. Ms. Shirley is the most advanced of them all. Her memory is fine, she just has trouble saying words. Luckily she sits right next to mama at the table, so since mama doesn't talk... it's a nice thing to talk to Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;shirley&lt;/span&gt;.  and that is my days, these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;erin&lt;/span&gt; got out of the hospital, there has been stricter rules placed for her. Although, mom forgets to enforce them sometimes. She now is to eat in the living room or out of her room. and She has to get her own things for herself. Which has been good. Otherwise she will spend days... weeks on end in her room and never come out. Which is RIDICULOUS. so. we are doing SOMETHING good here. also, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;erin&lt;/span&gt; is suppose to do physical therapy. soon. she hasn't yet. so we will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom is good. busy with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;kroger&lt;/span&gt; and working full time as fuel lead. I'm awfully proud of him for advancing so fast. he is ready to go home. and i can't say that i blame him. but i do feel an awful lot of stress to support him and support my family at the same time. usually, that goes in two different directions. which kinda sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that is life...  just a quick update to let you know how the whirlwind goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4499748902997188312?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4499748902997188312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4499748902997188312' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4499748902997188312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4499748902997188312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/03/two-weeks-into-school-game.html' title='Two weeks into the School game'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-964615734638624500</id><published>2009-02-22T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T21:46:52.666-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sacred'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tom'/><title type='text'>the art of a life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;the first time i went to see a movie in the theater i was something like 4 or 5. It was the first movie my mother ever saw in the theater since she had been raised strictly independent baptist and movies were "bad". it was somethng we have always shared together - our first movie. it was E.T. and i remember vividly to this day sitting in that theater watching E.T. die and Elliot come back to life with all the grown-ups wearing space outfits sobbing my headoff. i felt the pain of Elliot. i felt the loss of E.T. to the very core of my soul and i couldn't understand why all these grownups in the movie and the all the ones around me didn't seem to be as upset and heartbroken as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cried through the end of the movie. i cried as we walked out to the car. i cried as we drove to the reasarant (chili's). i cried while we waited to be seated and i cried until we ordered our food and my father threatend me i wouldn't eat if i didn't stop crying. and even though i stopped the gut wrenching sobs, i still silently let the tears slide down my innocent little cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now twenty plus years later, i watch a movie and inevitable i cry. today tom and i decided we would go and see Slumdog Millioniare in the theaters. we love movies, but to go out and see it on the big screen is something we rarely do because of the cost. but with our new found interest in all things Indian and Japannes and Chinnese... basically anything you can serve jasmine rice with... it seemed fitting to make sure we caught this one in aaaalll its glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got there early after having the rustica pizza at pizza hut (very good btw) and had plenty of time to settle into our seats and wait for the previews to start. There was an ad for the new Watchman movie and a blip about the song that My Chemical Romance did for it, which made me decide that maybe i'd like to read it before i saw it in movie form. Then the previews began and as always after every single movie i declared to tom in my most ennuciated whisper (which is usually kinda loud) that i &lt;em&gt;reeeeally &lt;/em&gt;would like to see &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt; movie. We saw a clip for the Wolverine movie (may 1st my friends) and at that point i decided that i would go over the edge geek and admit to tom that i actually would like to start collecting the X-men graphic novels. After one preview i was even already stiffling back tears, at which point i told tom that i was most definately going to cry at Slumdog Millioniare too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;and the movie was good. i was tense through the whole thing. completely on edge wanting the best for the characters at hand and also intense on soaking up the Indian culture and language and the way they said things like "mumbai."and the end comes and the waterworks begin. it usually seems to go that way. the end of the movie... i lose it. and it's not because of what happend. it's not the loss or the gain or the pain or any particular &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; that happend in the movie. it's simply because it did happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;let me explain, it seems by the end of the movie i see all of it at once. as if you took the timeline of the events of the story and folded them on end into a two dimensional picture. like a still painting. and see it that way. as if i were in a muesum of sculptures and paintings. and i were to stand back and see it all together. the entire picture at once. and just take in it's beauty. and then naturally my eye begins to roam the piece, taking in the details. the brushstrokes, the layers, the use of color and light and dark... every element. and then you step back and see it again... all at once. and that is the end of the movie for me. the beauty of a life. any life. good or bad. life. i think it is the most beautiful artwork there is. there is nothing like the woven tapastry of the messy thing we call life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;as an artist sometimes i get so bogged down on this one part of a painting. the lighthouse whose roof is slanted wrong. or the sea whose has a wrong texture. and i work it and work it and work it - till the paper can literally bare no more and i have to stop and just let it be. and life is like that sometimes too. we get so bogged down in this one detail. or this one area. or this the one flaw made right here that we swear everyone can see and we fail to step back and see the big picture. all of it. piled ontop of itself. no one else sees the flaws we see.. they just see the beauty of the artwork layered up to make the most beautiful piece of art one can have... a life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;and that's what i love about the movies. because after two hours of being swept off to India you walk out of there and realize the &lt;strong&gt;whole&lt;/strong&gt; picture in your own life. and not take for granted the sweetness of a moment like singing "help" by the beatles at the top of your lungs with your favorite person, even if you're &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; on your way to do the mundane job of grocery shopping.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-964615734638624500?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/964615734638624500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=964615734638624500' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/964615734638624500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/964615734638624500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/art-of-life.html' title='the art of a life'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7040634940668634232</id><published>2009-02-18T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T20:02:50.209-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>BUS115 and Mad Props to the Cuz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6633ff;"&gt;so i put the smack down on BUS115 as promised. I passed with an 88%. i only needed an 80 and i'm a happy girl. and then i went to finish registering for classes. so not good. i could sit on my soapbox of how crappy my expereince has been with the school. but i will refain. for now. there are still a few kinks to work out in the classes i have to take and how much and if i will be able to graduate in june. but. one obstacle has been dominated. yes. i am calling 88% domination. especially since everyone told me NO ONE passes the test. so take that crappy DeVry staffers! ha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;in other news..... mad props for the cuz (it's Rusty Mewha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A big hand for Kong at Meadow Brook Theatre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Donald V. Calamia &lt;br /&gt;In an era of bad economic news, job losses and a housing crash, it should come as no surprise that people are searching for - and desperately need - a really good laugh. And that's exactly what Meadow Brook Theatre delivers with the Michigan premiere of Kong's Night Out - and plenty of them!&lt;br /&gt;Created by playwright (and director) Jack Neary who always wondered what was going on in the room NEXT to the room invaded by King Kong's gigantic fist in the original 1933 movie, Kong peeks in on the second-generation rivalry between two Broadway producers.&lt;br /&gt;It's hours before opening night, and Myron Siegel (Christopher Howe) is upset to learn that pre-sold tickets for Foxy Felicia are being returned by the busloads. Why? Because the talk of the town has shifted to the top-secret project Carl Denham (Wayne David Parker) has planned for that very same night, and nervous money-man Sig Higgenbottom (Eddie Mekka) is threatening to pull his money out of Siegel's sure-to-bomb extravaganza. So with the help of his investor-mother (and former stripper) Sally Charmaine (Cindy Williams), Siegel schemes to uncover his rival's plans – and squash them.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, since Kong IS a farce, nothing goes as planned. Instead, what Neary offers is a silly, frothy and thoroughly delightful night of laughs, packed with plenty of twists and turns, door slams and witty banter to keep it interesting.&lt;br /&gt;But what REALLY sells the production are the near-perfect performances by not only the actors mentioned above, but also by the stellar supporting cast members who at times nearly stole the show on opening night.&lt;br /&gt;In particular, Kady Zadora brightens the stage as Siegel's giggly, buxom, but not-as-dumb-as-she-acts niece from Buffalo, Daisy, who eagerly agrees to help save her uncle's show - with strings attached, of course.&lt;br /&gt;And Teri Clark Linden beautifully captures both the charming and slimy sides of Bertrille, the sexy, opportunistic and side-switching wife of Myron (and secret girlfriend of Carl).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;However, it's Rusty Mewha who especially enchants the audience as Jack, the dimwitted fiance of Ann Darrow (the object of Kong's affection). Every entrance he makes is memorable - and you won't soon forget his impersonation of Kong crouching on a stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;All of the show's technical elements serve the show quite well - from Kristen Gribbin's recreation of an expensive New York hotel suite to Reid G. Johnson's lights and Corey T. Globke's period-perfect costumes.&lt;br /&gt;The production's only noticeable flaw occurs in Act Two, as poorly conceived and executed chase scenes lose their steam - and, seemingly, the actors' interest - half-way through.&lt;br /&gt;SHOW DETAILS:&lt;br /&gt;Meadow Brook Theatre, 2200 N. Squirrel Rd., Rochester. Wednesday-Sunday through March 8. Tickets: $30-$39. For information: 248-377-3300 or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mbtheatre.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;www.mbtheatre.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:encorefeedback@gmail.com?Subject=Review"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Click here to comment on this review&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://encoremichigan.com/calendar.html?seq=2325"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Performance Information&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Show times&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, February 11, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, February 12, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Friday, February 13, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, February 14, 2009 at 6:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, February 15, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, February 15, 2009 at 6:30 pm&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, February 18, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, February 19, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Friday, February 20, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, February 21, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, February 21, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, February 22, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, February 22, 2009 at 6:30 pm&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, February 25, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, February 25, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, February 26, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Friday, February 27, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, February 28, 2009 at 6:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, March 1, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, March 1, 2009 at 6:30 pm&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, March 4, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, March 4, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, March 5, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Friday, March 6, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, March 7, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, March 7, 2009 at 8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, March 8, 2009 at 2:00 pm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7040634940668634232?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7040634940668634232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7040634940668634232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7040634940668634232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7040634940668634232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/bus115-and-mad-props-to-cuz.html' title='BUS115 and Mad Props to the Cuz'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-5058623322238195628</id><published>2009-02-15T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T08:25:21.866-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>hearts, chocolates, and all that mushy stuff :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;We intturupt this studing cram session to bring you the highlights of valentines day.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;okay so we really aren't inturrupting anything.... just "popping out a blog" (as i told tom) before i get into a marathon day of the stuff (a.k.a studing).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;but yesterday was simply too divine to not take a moment to share it.&lt;/span&gt; i woke up early yesterday morning to get dressed to go and sit in on mom's class - senior project. This was for two reasons: &lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; if everything goes as planned, i will be taking this class "senior project" next term and it just &lt;em&gt;sounds&lt;/em&gt; ominous... this project you do as a senior where you work with a company addressing a problem they have and giving them a solution and then doing this HUGE presentation infront of three professors (three different times). I wanted to know what the heck i was in for. &lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; it was also just a great opportunity to spend time with mom and see what it is she does and where she goes when she runs out the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;so the class was &lt;em&gt;suppose&lt;/em&gt; to end at noon... HOWEVER, we weren't leaving campus until almost 1. which messed up my plan to run to the store for tommy. the class... went great. i gave suggestions (that was the purpose of this class...last time they meet before the 'big day) on how they could make things better. and i felt like i was giving the no brainers. just things that popped out to me. but one girl decided to pop up and tell me that i could get paid for giving people these kinds of ideas. which made me think of sharon and that i had she probably had rubbed off on me a bit. and that made me feel awfully good. so even though i  was running late, i was feeling GREAT cuz apparently i'm smart and people like my ideas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;tom had texted me to let me know that he was preparing me something special at home and he was planning for me to be there at 1. so i raced home fast as i could because tom had to head off to work at 2. I got there at 1:15 with just enough time to somewhat peacefully enjoy the most amazing meal of my life. it was like iron chef had come to our kitchen. It must be said that it's the end of the grocery two weeks and time for grocery shopping. there are no more planned meals yet to be cooked. nutin. so tom iron chef style - looked at the ingredints we had and made amazing gormet lunch. We had cheesy potatoe croquets - i'm still not even sure what a croquet is but it's damn good. We had heart shaped samon cakes (super yum). Roasted grapes - sounds wierd... but really good. and Carrots cooked in basalmic vinegrette glaze. i typically do not like carrots if they are even a tiny bit warm. these were amazing. and it was topped off with aztec style drinking chocolate... it had a spicy little kick which was most yum. it was all very divine and very rich and pleasing on my happy lil foodie taste buds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;i think it was one of the best valentines day gifts ever. it took a lot of work on toms part and creativity and it was so much more than just popping by the store and handing me a bunch o flowers. it was a gift from the heart and i think that is why it was so amazing. i told tom yet once again that he really should go to culinary school... i mean if can do &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt; with what's in the kitchen with no training... lordy almighty look out food network....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;i took tom to work where we found out that there is a strong potential that possibly within the next week he will receive a promotion to the lead fuel clerk. it would mean full time, a raise, and basically the responsibilty of managing the station. nothing official... just the rumors that run before people actually do what they are talking about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;while he was at work, i ran that errand i had intended to earlier in the day. and i got lost. like 4 exits down the highway from where we live lost. i just took TWO rights. TWO. and was so lost when i called my mom &lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; wasnt' even sure where i was. but i found my way to the highway and got back on track... just a litle behind schedule. i picked up a bottle of tupelo honey. if anyone knows us together... expecially in those early days of dating. there was van morrison and tupelo honey. tupelo honey is particularly difficult to find (i know i looked for a year), but i found a place that carries it here in GA. so i went for the sweet (literally) gift that represents the beginning sweet time in our relationship. i think it was nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;ran home with an hour to go before tom got home. and started whipping up some super yummy devil's food cake cupcakes with creamcheese frosting. i even started using some alton brown techniques while mixing stuff together. i felt like a super pro. but a super pro running out of time. it was already time for tommy to get off work and the yummy treat wasn't done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;so i picked up the man, and he handed me a lovely velvety box o' chocolates... truffless... *giggles* it was sweet. i decided since valentines day is about appreciating the one you love, that tommy and i could just finish the cupcakes together. so we did. so now we have sweet treats &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; fun memories of frosting cupcakes with cheesy hearts and chocolates. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;tom had make reservations at a super swanky place for dinner. but they were late (which worked out great in the end) and so we parted ways (him to our bathroom, me to moms') to get all spiffed up. and we did.... all perdy up for the occasion. i even had mom take some pictures cuz you gotta take pictures when you are all spiffed up! and we ate at Luciannos (i think that's what its name was). it's wasn't far but it was pretty packed. apparently recently rated by atlantans as the #2 italian place in the city last month. and i could see why. it was great. amazing amazing northern italian food. tommy got the rigatoni *something* and i got the lasagna... so yum. we topped it off with Tiramisu, which i think was amazing in and of itself becuase i think we had both eaten like 4 cupcakes already. the tiramisu... rocked. sooooo incredibly smooth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;by the time we started for the car to head home i was done. i think it was just hitting that point of fullness on all the senses. my tummy was golden. i had a single glass of wine. i was exhausted. i felt accomplished. and i felt overwhelmingly loved. so full that i think i was like drunk of fullness of life. i seriously could barely walk to the car and had to focus VERY hard to drive us home. but we made it home safely (for the most part) and i collapsed in bed. it was a good day for sure. a very very good day indeed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-5058623322238195628?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/5058623322238195628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=5058623322238195628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5058623322238195628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5058623322238195628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/hearts-chocolates-and-all-that-mushy.html' title='hearts, chocolates, and all that mushy stuff :)'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-8578238373648812020</id><published>2009-02-13T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T14:20:32.070-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Update: Comp110</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;i just came back from taking the Comp110 test. passed. most goodness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;now for cramming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-8578238373648812020?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/8578238373648812020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=8578238373648812020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8578238373648812020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8578238373648812020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/update-comp110.html' title='Update: Comp110'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2998975797935940796</id><published>2009-02-13T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T11:55:42.514-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Jumping through the Hoops</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33cc00;"&gt;ah school. so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been working on getting my credits transferred and registration and the all jazz one must do before they actually attend school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;the plan is for me to take 30 credits in 16 weeks. 16 credits (5 classes) for 8 weeks. and then 14 credits (5 classes) the other 8 weeks. and then THAT my friends will give me a finished degree. A degree in "technical management" (a general business degree) with an emphasis in psychology. It also makes me much more marketable in the business world in which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; got quite a few years experience working in. and so, hopefully all of this will get me a job. isn't that ALWAYS the point???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;well, yesterday i went up to school to register for classes. all my official transcripts were in and evaluated. (i have 4 including my high school transcript). and it has come back officially that i will need to take 35 credit hours in order to graduate with aforementioned degree. i have to take 30 credits to achieve the residency requirement. so i will need to test out of 5 credits... no biggie. one is a general computer class (what is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cpu&lt;/span&gt;? how do you send an email?) that kind of stuff. and the other was an excel class (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; an excel wizard... again. a breeze).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;now i have entrusted my mother with the planning of my schooling. it's her school. she is a former dean and currently teaches in the business sector, as well as, advises like 75 students (the most of any professor on campus). the lady gave birth to me, she knows what i can handle and she knows this school and how to work the system for ones schooling advantage. so why reinvent the wheel... she's my official school planner. so she planned it all out. gave me a sheet of paper with the classes i needed and the schedule she felt was good - making sure she got me the professors that were the best... the whole nine yards. takes a huge load off my back - let me tell you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;so i walk in yesterday - to register. everyone knows my mom. everyone loves her. (she's an AMAZING professor) and hand over all the work she's done for me. i get through the first person. no problems. no hint of a problem. check. i go to finical aid to sign crap there. no problems. no hint of problems. check. i go to register for the classes my mom has written on my trusty piece of paper.... problem. big. big. big problems. after crazy looks, the registrar chick goes and gets the dean. the dean explains to me that i can not simply take 30 credit hours in a semester.  that is crazy. they only let people take 19 at a maximum. now know that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; already had this discussion with my mom on the possibility and plausibility of this situation and she has assured me that she has had students do this before and that she believes it's something i can do. so here i am looking at the dean of students saying... but my mommy said i could. okay. i didn't SAY that... but what came out of my mouth, was pretty close. i felt pretty stupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;so said dean says... well you will have to complete an academic appeal to get the policy waived. so she gets me said form which requires a letter explaining what i want and why. and the dean says... we will go ahead and register you for up to 19 and then go from there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;so registrar sits down again to attempt to do this. computer freezes up and wont let her in. she tries and tries and tries. nothing. so she says... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; have to put it in later. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; just write everything down and put a note in your file. so she starts with the first class. A business survey class. again she looks up at me and rambles to herself and then goes and gets the dean. (she's gone quite awhile this time). registration lady comes back and says there are these problems the dean will talk to you in a minute. great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;so dean comes back out and explains that the class i need and was trying to register for is a prerequisite for ALL the other classes i need to take. and that THIS class must be &lt;em&gt;completed&lt;/em&gt; before i begin the rest. (well if that's the case, the plan to finish in ONE term just went out the window) however, she tells me that if i can test out of this class that will solve some of the problems. we will still have some conflicts, but at least we could go from there. she suggests i go to the library check out the book for the class and attempt the test in three days. yup. cram a whole class, self taught, and be able to test on it by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tuesday&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;so i go home. registered for nothing and a little defeated feeling yet DETERMINED to work through all of this. i write one kick ass letter as to how i am completely capable of taking this class load because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not working and that people who work and take ONE class have the same demands placed upon their time and life that i would have with 5 classes and NO work. and then i detailed out my 5 year educational history of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;gpas&lt;/span&gt;, course loads, academic accomplishments and part time work schedule i managed. as proof that i could do this because i HAD done this before.  i then handed it in to her before the end of the day. i wanted this dean to know i meant business. so i wait to hear on things on that front. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;so today i needed test out of that computer class. i go in to do so and apparently my electronic file has not been fixed from when i got screwed up yesterday. someone screwed something up (registering lady was training this other chick) and they had not done what they needed to do in the computer system and could not do it because it kept freezing up and all of this had to be fixed before i took the test. so i spent an hour waiting to take the test and did not. i gave her my number and said i would take it later today if she got it fixed - just let me know. otherwise i guess it will be tomorrow or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;monday&lt;/span&gt;... we shall see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;in the meantime, i am about to start cramming for this other test BUS115. mom ran some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;reconnaissance&lt;/span&gt; for me and found out the kinds of things on the test... apparently its very vocab heavy. so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;gunna&lt;/span&gt; cram and take said test on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;tuesday&lt;/span&gt;. this test determines a lot. it basically determines if i can take the course load i want, graduating in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;june&lt;/span&gt; and everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;my gut also tells me that this test will determine if the dean will approve my academic appeal. if i were her - i would wait to see how well i was able to cram for a test and then if i could succeed at passing it. if i could, then i would think that would be a good indicator i might be able to handle the heavy course load. if i can't, then it might say i need to take it slower. that's what i would think if i was the dean... and so again... EVERYTHING hinges on this test. so forgive me if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; absent till after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;tuesday&lt;/span&gt;... it's crunch time kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;happy birthday to my lady hope - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;lor&lt;/span&gt;! (may your 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; be the best yet)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt; the 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; to all of you... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;whoo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;happy Valentines to you all tomorrow. i know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;tommy&lt;/span&gt; and i are doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;sumtin&lt;/span&gt; special... perhaps topic of next blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;peas and carrots.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;p.s. my spelling &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2998975797935940796?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2998975797935940796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2998975797935940796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2998975797935940796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2998975797935940796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/jumping-through-hoops.html' title='Jumping through the Hoops'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7012200654113045684</id><published>2009-02-08T03:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T05:39:46.199-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>The Medication War</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#009900;"&gt;so it's an early &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sunday&lt;/span&gt; morning. earlier than anyone not working in their right mind should be up. but since it is a typically sacred day. and it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;happened&lt;/span&gt; to be my topic of fluttering thoughts while i folded the clothes and washed this dishes (already this morning - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;whoo&lt;/span&gt; go me!). i thought it time to sit down and really contemplate this idea/situation i battle daily. i also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hesitated&lt;/span&gt; before writing this.... is this too personal? to private a matter? to public a forum? and it might be, i think it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; squishes right up to the edge. but at the same time it does good to shine light on what is historically thought of as something that is secretive and shameful. that even i, in my very open personality type, shy away from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;admitting&lt;/span&gt; in public for fear of being shamed. and perhaps bring understanding to a group of people i have begun to see in the world around me that i like to think of as "the sensitives". so. i attempt to tread lightly, but to continue to tread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;previous to 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, i remember myself being quiet and shy. that had a lot to do with my family and growing up and my father. my parents &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;separated&lt;/span&gt; and divorced when i was in 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade (over spring break). but it was in 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade that it was like this light switched turned on in my world. it had been a couple of years since the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;separation&lt;/span&gt; and i guess it took time for me to come out of the coma of that situation. and i went from quiet to bouncing off the freaking wall. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;looked&lt;/span&gt; like a crazy text book example of kid with ADD. i couldn't sit still. everything seemed so alive to me. everything felt all of a sudden so deep. and i felt passionate. the sun was sunnier. my friends made me happier. it was like i had the energizer bunny living inside of me. and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; pretty sure i annoyed every single person i came in contact with. and having so much energy made me kinda &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; for a kid in 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;/8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade... that's when you are supposed to be "playing it cool". and i did not. not even close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;high school years, brought with it an incredibly emotional teenager. my mother and sister began calling me a "drama queen" which to this day i find extremely offensive.  to me a drama queen lives for drama, is excited by drama and has a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;tendency&lt;/span&gt; to create drama around them. i have never felt like i have done this in my  life... okay maybe a little bit. but when you are 16 doesn't everyone? it wasn't till somewhere in college that i figured out that i wasn't a 'drama queen' but someone who felt emotions seemingly deeper than the people around me and that i expressed these feelings at the same depth i felt them. which to the rest of the world might seem like it's being "overdone". but to me it was just the way i felt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;so as the years have passed. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; matured. had one breakdown. one failed marriage. off and on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;medication&lt;/span&gt; throughout these years because i don't have the money for it, because i think i can not take it, because i run out and i don't refill it, because lots of reasons. first let me say i was technically &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;diagnosed&lt;/span&gt; with bi-polar after the breakdown. i, however, wonder the accuracy of this diagnosis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;so here i am back in the battle of medication. my medication happens to be extremely expensive and does not have a generic to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;substitute&lt;/span&gt; for it. being unemployed and with out insurance, this posses as a bit of a problem. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; refilled it and paid for the scripts out of pocket since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;july&lt;/span&gt;. but some time ago, i ran out of refills and so now i would need to add in a very expensive doctors visit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;ontop&lt;/span&gt; of a pills i already can't afford. so i began the task of going off medication again. and these are the things i contemplate and know about myself that all play into my personal medication war.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;one. i am a sensitive person. not in the sense that i get my feelings hurt easily. in the sense that every outside element that comes in effects me strongly. i am not just talking about emotions or situations. but medications too. from the time that i was a baby taking my shots. my mom said they had to split them in half because the result is that they would make me very sick. (a point that recently was brought up due Kristy's baby shot problems - but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not surprised in the least).  but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; known for a very long time that medications that have hormones in them are even more effective to me. like "the pill" (taken for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; complicated things that i won't talk about on my blog. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;ewwww&lt;/span&gt;!) but we will say. it's not an option for me. i am so incredibly sensitive to the pill and it makes me so violently ill. that i would rather live in pain and misery than the side effects of that hormonal beast.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;i am also sensitive to others emotions, as well. every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;time&lt;/span&gt; i go off and on the darn medication i pick another piece to how i work and what is different and what the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; do and what they don't. and have tried to piece these bits together little by little over time. one thing they do is numb out my ability to feel compassion for other people to level that i naturally tend to feel at. i think this can be good. and i think this can be bad. good: is that i have in my life, carried the hurt of the world upon my back. and the hurt of the world has drug me down to a place where i can't seem to function as times. i am not intended to do such. but bad: because i miss things i wouldn't off medications. prime example - driving downtown last week tom and i hit a toll both. i had to go to a cashier and she gave me change. i took in her eyes and the profound &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;sadness&lt;/span&gt; they carried. and my heart was so heavily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;grieved&lt;/span&gt; for this woman. a stranger whom i wonder what has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;happened&lt;/span&gt; to her to make her look so sad. and i would have missed that if on medication. i would have been in my fake little sunshine world laughing with tom, but looked over this woman that i am sure literally thousands of people do a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;this being sensitive to the world around me is a really big point for me. because i feel i was made more sensitive.  that i observe things others often miss. that i can be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;empathetic&lt;/span&gt; when others cannot. i feel this is a part of who i am and how i was created and being on medication &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;denys&lt;/span&gt; me this part of myself but also protects me from allowing it to consume me. however, this time i wonder if i might have found a balance for this off medication. because in the end, that is really what i need. a way to balance who i am without denying it and without being consumed by it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;lets go back to my little lady in the toll booth. in that moment, when my heart was instantly grieved for this lady, i looked over to tom and told him about it. how very sad i felt in that moment. and this is one way tom complements me so very well. i feel he understands this very sensitive part of me but at the same time is not a person with such strong emotion. so i can share my instant sadness. take a moment to send up a prayer, grieve for her. feel understood and comfortable enough to say what is on my heart to tom and then let it go. let it be and not carry it on. and this seems to be working. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I have also learned that things like eating right, getting enough sleep, and having daily exercise also are good tools to keep me in a more balanced state off medication. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;other factors. my mom is very pro-medication. she is a mom and wants to fix everything. she also has been consumed in a culture of cancer and medication for a long time. and so she really just wants me to take medication and feel happy and good all the time. but the world isn't happy and good all the time and i think as a culture we run away from tears and grieving because we think of them as "bad".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;i know that off medications. i cry a lot..... i mean a lot. lately, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;jaime's&lt;/span&gt; blogs having been taring me up (her mother recently passed away). a commercial. a movie.  i can cry when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; happy. like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;Superbowl&lt;/span&gt; commercial where the two horses run off together. it's such a beautiful cute little story in a 60 sec &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;commercial&lt;/span&gt; that moves me... and i cry. a piece of art work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and this time with the waterfall of tears, i have found myself thinking why run away from this? why is crying thought of as so bad? it's not like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; hysterical or crying for hours. usually just a minute or two. but our instinct is to not feel. to push it away, push it to the side. and not think about how a moment or a thing moves us. to move through life smoothly without complications- and tears and emotions can most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; be complications. but the downside of this... this moving through the everyday without complication or rise is that it can make the day mundane. and we get so focused on &lt;em&gt;doing &lt;/em&gt;the day that we &lt;strong&gt;forget&lt;/strong&gt; the day. we are numbed by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;repetition&lt;/span&gt; of the tasks. i feel like the sensitive part of me, makes me stop and see the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;extraordinary&lt;/span&gt; in the everyday. a stupid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;commercial&lt;/span&gt; that makes me think of a love that would not be bound by anything. a woman in a toll both with great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;sadness&lt;/span&gt; - that there is someone outside of myself. and when i look at it like this. it feels somewhat like a gift and a great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;. i have the ability to see something beautiful in the simplest of things. how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;extraordinary&lt;/span&gt; is that! but also, if you see something - you can not just pass it up and do nothing. and so there is also a great deal of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;. and i find myself writing lots of notes. and messages. and so forth. but i like that about me. my life goal is to love. to love others as the best i can. and so being more sensitive gives me more of an opportunity (when in balance) to love others betters, because i see things i would otherwise pass up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and yet another factor. i could probably leave this part out, but it too plays heavily in the game. and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; attempting to be open and honest about the war i find myself in. kids. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; 28. and i have been made with what feels like a particularly strong "mother" jean. we will not go into the "this is not the right timing for kids" spiel. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; aware. trust me. but the medication i would take i can not with the bearing of children. and so wanting children one day, i worry what if i can't go off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"&gt;during&lt;/span&gt; that time. what if it keeps me from getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"&gt;el&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56"&gt;preggo&lt;/span&gt;? it's a fear that plays in the back of my head. as i type it... i see the fear based reasoning. but it's a factor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;however, all is not great off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not completely a super-being who is all loving and giving. *chuckles* oh no. this time i see a little clearer how i am also a little more unloving off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; too.  i feel like i have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60"&gt;tendency&lt;/span&gt; to snap at things more - at people more. it's like something happens that i do not like, and my first reaction is a strong burst of anger that usually comes out in ugly words. and then i feel bad about it. i feel more annoyed with people when they do stupid things instead of forgiving.  and this is something i have recognized THIS time more clearer. but i look back in life and see how it has been there all along. and &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; i do not like. &lt;strong&gt;this&lt;/strong&gt; is a problem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;this is something i am trying to wrap my head around on how to control and bring into balance. i haven't figured this one out yet. but it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; a factor for why staying on medication is good - i roll with the punches better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;yet another factor. is the diagnosis itself. i question if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; bi-polar at all. i don't exactly fit the textbook qualifications. if anything, i am only slightly bi-polar. i have never had full blown mania. only really hypo-mania and only '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63"&gt;severish&lt;/span&gt; cases' rarely. i also cycle fast. like. many times in one day sometimes. or every couple days. so with these factors, i question the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64"&gt;diagnosis&lt;/span&gt;. but then if not "bi-polar" what? i lean towards hormonal. :D it is purely a theory. but if i am just simply a sensitive person to all elements, then it would plausible that as my normal ole hormones shift and do their thing... so do i. with every chemical change, i react accordingly. it's a theory. but it fits better than "bi-polar". unfortunately, i think the only way to know for sure is to do lots of hormonal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65"&gt;panel&lt;/span&gt; studies and look at the patterns from them along side the symptoms i record in a fun little calender. i would really like to do this. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66"&gt;partially&lt;/span&gt; just to scratch the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67"&gt;curiosity&lt;/span&gt; itch. but if this is the case... then are medications necessary to treat a "condition" i don't have? or would you use the same medications (because they do work) to treat the symptoms? it's an interesting question. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and so you have it. the big factors of the war inside. what is the right thing for me? to medicate or not? i don't know. it's a tricky balance. for now, i have the deal i always seem to have with myself when i go med-free. it's okay and acceptable until you see the signs that you are beginning to not function well on a day to day basis. and then you go back on. so far: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; functioning fine. even getting up early and handling the bills and responsibilities in life better than usual. but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; usually not unemployed either ;). and so the teetering balancing act continues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7012200654113045684?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7012200654113045684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7012200654113045684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7012200654113045684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7012200654113045684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/medication-war.html' title='The Medication War'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-8816736041416121200</id><published>2009-02-07T18:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T18:39:26.863-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><title type='text'>Coffee - *insert some witty little tag line here*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Cuz i logged into the 'puter... and yahoo had a sneaky little tag line... "who beat starbucks in a taste test?". and of course, being 1. an avid fan of coffee and 2. loving all things starbucks had to know who could have &lt;em&gt;possibly&lt;/em&gt; beat them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;now... i do love starbucks. end of story. but i - being severly unemployed and shortly a full time student - have no money for such luxeries. and so in times of great need, i have fallen back on my favorite cheap at home brew, Five o'clock Coffee. One day when i visited this episcopalian church in ludington where the congregation was all over 80 (which made me stick out like a sore thumb). i got into a conversation about coffee with a little old late and how i am fond of the five o'clock stuff. and she told me (in a nutshell and paraphrased) the stuff is older than sin. but i like it. it's particularly cheap when you buy the bag that has the $1 off coupon inside. and use that coupon to buy another bag, with another coupon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;so what do my eyes see when i follow the aforementioned link.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;an&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://shopping.yahoo.com/articles/yshoppingarticles/204/consumer-reports-picks-the-best-cup-o-brew"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;stating in a taste test of columbian brewed coffee, Five o'clock beat out everyone. starbucks, folgers, maxwell, duncan... EVERYONE. i do love my cheap little finds! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;and hope this doesn't make them get a big head and raise the price. hmmm :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-8816736041416121200?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/8816736041416121200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=8816736041416121200' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8816736041416121200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8816736041416121200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/coffee-insert-some-witty-little-tag.html' title='Coffee - *insert some witty little tag line here*'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-6303520409852214735</id><published>2009-02-07T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T06:48:12.952-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Success'/><title type='text'>We Have A BED!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;it started really in July of 07. In the depths of heartache, i told the former husband we needed some space to figure stuff out and that i would move into the spare bedroom. The spare 'oom had no bed, but an old futon that was terribly uncomfortable. so much so, that i took the frame apart and slept on the futon mattress on the floor for a couple of months. and then, i moved out completely and slept on a friends futon... a little more comfortable but not great - until November. and then i moved to detroit, and got to sleep in a bed... a real live bed. It wasn't my bed and i long for my own things and my own place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;In like March of 08, i began sleeping in Southgate. and decided that i still needed my own place and my own bed. they were beds... but not MY bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;and so in June, i officially got my very own apartment with a borrowed twin mattress that i got to sleep on the floor with. whoo! it wasn't much. but it was mine. and then the heavy traveling began with WLS... and i wasn't any place for longer than a couple days it seemed. my placee. his place. a hotel bed. until august of 08 when i got laid off. and then .... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;october of 08 it was decided we move to alanta to help out with my sister. and we began sleeping on air mattress. at first it was an office with an air mattress in the middle of it. one that required being picked up everyday and everynight put back together. a pain in the @$$ and not really comfortable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;After christmas we finally rearranged our room and had a "bed space" that didn't require that we pick up our air mattress every day and it was better. but still not exactly comfortable sleeping. but yesterday. sweet, sweet yesterday...we borrowed a truck from my mom's friend and got the bed out of storage.  my bed. a queen bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;it's been a rough ride of sleeping arrangements over almost a two year span. and while it's not my bed with my things... it's still a bed. and if you've ever spent 4 months on an air mattress, you would know that it's a monumental feet of wonderfulness to have a bed. a real bed. i'm sitting on it blogging now. cuz i don't want to leave it's heavenly place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;it's a good day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-6303520409852214735?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/6303520409852214735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=6303520409852214735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6303520409852214735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6303520409852214735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-have-bed.html' title='We Have A BED!!!!'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7506233698658524382</id><published>2009-02-04T05:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T06:21:23.218-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Papa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bento'/><title type='text'>the Week Highlights in Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sooooo.... every family has it's nuancies and character traits as a whole. My family... particularly the role my papa plays in the family has an entertaining quality to it. he likes jokes. and he is known for "running to the store" (a tool store for sure) and actually going out for an hour or two for donuts and coffee, but of course he never says that's where he is headed too. He's the fella who buys every corney thing in the Cracker Barrel gift shop and giggles like a school boy when he plays a prank on someone. He's known for his infamous "he who smelt it dealt it" philosophy. He's favorite color is brown and his favorite publicaion is The Reader's Digest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;One year (i think it was 2002) after Christmas, everyone in the family started to recieving there very own year subscription to Reader's Digest. nothing was said... we all just started getting one out of nowhere. It was papa. Apparently, he got something in mail and decided since he loved it so much... we would all probably love it too. but he didn't tell anyone... he just sent them to us. He's that kinda guy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmgynjbVcI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Y7tGIlHm9Wg/s1600-h/Snuggies+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298943228049577410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmgynjbVcI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Y7tGIlHm9Wg/s200/Snuggies+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;This year... papa struck again. Two days ago, in the evening, a big ole box arrives. so we open it up and low and behold... we all (even tom) have snuggies. If you have not seen the mini-info&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="https://www.freesnuggie.com/?mid=523259"&gt;Commerical&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;you must. you really must. Basically it creates a problem and then solves it with the snuggie... it's info-merical awesome. I instantly began jumping up and down like a little kid yelling "there Snuggggies!!!!" I ran for the camera to document the momental occasion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmfcatO0MI/AAAAAAAAAEY/dawzIlQH8os/s1600-h/Erica+Sollum+Snuggie+Monk.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298941747132289218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 153px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmfcatO0MI/AAAAAAAAAEY/dawzIlQH8os/s200/Erica+Sollum+Snuggie+Monk.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I think they look like something that Star Trek:New Generation would wear. or a little "monk-ish" all the same: how can you not love the randomness of the gift that comes from a fella like papa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmf9Llly8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/AG5BKHocCfw/s1600-h/T+and+E+Snuggie.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298942310009392066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmf9Llly8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/AG5BKHocCfw/s200/T+and+E+Snuggie.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298942650465230578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmgQ_4lnvI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tHDHr37AnTA/s200/tommy+snuggie+robot.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Yep. Tom was doing the robot here, actually we both were but somehow when my brain sent this message to my face it came out more "monster" than "robot"... so i edited myself out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;so tommy has become obsessed with Japanesse culture. the flame was ignited back in the fall when we went out for the last time with the Hattons to the Chinness Buffet. they have a sushi bar and i am quite fond of sushi. I encouraged tom to step out of his comfort zone and at the very least try a california roll. he did and found he kinda liked it. then when he started working at kroger not too long ago, he noticed that this store has a full time sushi guy and what he says "is the most amazing looking sushi". So that fanned the flame. This weekend all he could think about was sushi. so he began researching it wanting to know more about the art. and if you tom at all, you know that once he starts with the wiki, he just can't put it down. he'll follow link after link until he's absorbed everybit of info he can and usually ends up on some site that has NOTHING to do with what he started out as. and so this is how he came upon&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmkHn6Gq6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/3ScQ1_RaN8s/s1600-h/Tommy+First+Bento.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298946887456828322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmkHn6Gq6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/3ScQ1_RaN8s/s320/Tommy+First+Bento.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bento"&gt;Bento&lt;/a&gt;". &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;And so he decided that he wanted to take his lunch in a bento box japanese style. So he researched until he found a cost effective little bento box. A blog recommended one of the Ikea food savers. So on our trip downtown yesterday, we picked up aforementioned food saver a.k.a. Bento Box. This morning the man was so excited to use it and pack a lunch for himself at work. That i think he got up at 4 am (he had to be at work at 5:45) just to cook rice for his lunch so it could be a proper bento box. Part of the idea of the bento is that it is asthetically pleasing..... keep this in mind. he's was so cute (in a manly kinda cute way, of course) that i had to take pictures. come to find out... so did he! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7506233698658524382?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7506233698658524382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7506233698658524382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7506233698658524382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7506233698658524382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/week-highlights-in-pictures.html' title='the Week Highlights in Pictures'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SYmgynjbVcI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Y7tGIlHm9Wg/s72-c/Snuggies+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4413175753425208412</id><published>2009-02-02T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T18:57:41.151-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><title type='text'>Superbowl 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;So i'm not a huge NFL watching kinda girl. I prefer college ball if i'm gunna watch. just do. but with tommy being a big football fan and the Official Superbowl Party thrower for all our friends, this year we had to at least watch. Even if we couldn't have the party like we would want to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;My favorite commercial was with the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spike.com/video/budweiser-clydesdale/3104812"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;Budweiser Clydsdale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt; who went running across the country to get his girl daisy. prolly a really girly commercial but it made me giggle and cry at the same time. (i cry a lot these days... side effects of weeing off the medication. but no worries....i'm not actually sad... it just seems like all emotion comes out in the form of tears). so if you missed the superbowl commercials... you should go and check this one out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;The Superbowl itself was pretty amazing. I have to admit the second half i started playing on facebook and yoville and only  half watched the game, but i did see all the important plays live. And it was honestly an amazing game. a very viewer friendly game. it was just one big record breaking play after another. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;Half time show was cool. i liked how The Boss actually had a good time with it. throwing jokes in and laughing. He looked like he was having as much playing as everyone in the stands. And that was just cool. Tom Petty last year was cool. I'm a big fan of the t.p., but i do believe the boss topped him big time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;all around, i would say it was a momentous event. one which involved lots of crying due to how emotional the game was... i know... i know, but what are you gunna do with me???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4413175753425208412?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4413175753425208412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4413175753425208412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4413175753425208412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4413175753425208412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/superbowl-2009.html' title='Superbowl 2009'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4830540562296088365</id><published>2009-02-01T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T13:10:09.387-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Success'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rachel'/><title type='text'>Successful and Accomplished</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;so these days i find myself busy with creating "to-do"lists and then trying to accomplish everything on them. School has yet to start... i still have another month. I'm not working. so i find making the aforementioned 'to-do' list and checking the items off, gives me a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction and an overal feeling of control of my life. it is so easy in the world of unemployment far far away from friends and whatnots to sit and feel like your life has no meaning and is rather pointless. and it is depressing to apply for job after job after job with no one even to respond to tell you, you are crap go knock on someone Else's virtual door. so the 'to-do' list has become my effect tool of feeling successful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Some of the things on my to-do list currently are to &lt;em&gt;Finalize the details of subletting my apartment&lt;/em&gt;. I finally found a taker on friday. I am still holding my breath until the papers are signed, but it's there. it's within reach. &lt;em&gt;Email the Bests&lt;/em&gt; - they are coming this way for family vacation and i've done some research on good deals and fun places to go. &lt;em&gt;Follow up on my National City Points&lt;/em&gt; - it's been a huge debacle... but i'm getting me my points back and those points are gunna buy me a bed (whoo!). &lt;em&gt;Call DTE&lt;/em&gt; - my heating bill for an apartment i don't live in and the heat is set at 50 degrees by the apartment complex so the pipes won't freeze is costing me $150 this month. so an inquiry to how an apartment i don't live in cost so much in heat i don't use - is now required. &lt;em&gt;Research Coupons&lt;/em&gt;. (i'll come back to this) and then a couple of other things like mail some cards out to people and other things i can't say cuz what if i type them here and you read them and then it spoils the surprise. so other things like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So Coupons. Coupons have become my life. it started off with the Savvy Shopper, i think. A publication that comes in the mail with coupons to places in the area. When going on a date, or out for any reason we try to use one of these bad boys. Then Friday i began to wonder if there might be a coupon for harp's Iams. so i googled "iams coupons" and hit upon a now favorite money saving site "&lt;a href="http://printable-coupons.blogspot.com/2005/10/restaurant-coupons.html"&gt;Mommy Saves Big". &lt;/a&gt;It's got tons of savings. so now. i'm a savings addict. With me unemployed, and tommy doing his best to work and bring in what he can to combat 'the man'... i can't actually INCREASE the household income. But i CAN save money and lower the cost of living. and so that's what i'm doing. Over the course of two days i researched the local sale ads (kroger, target (it's a super target), walmart), going through the coupon site for stuff we would ACTUALLY use. and then looking through our cookbooks for recipes that used the ingredients that were 1. on sale or 2. i had a coupon for or 3. both. Then i created a shopping list from there. and then off the shopping list, i went back to the coupon web sites to look for specific pricey items that i needed that were not on sale and that i hadn't found a coupon for. For instance... Rice Wine. It's not something we use regularly. Actually we've never used it... but the next two weeks includes three dishes that have it as an ingredient.... so i went in looking for it since it's something off the beaten path. and it paid off. We have a budget of $100 for two weeks of food. this is a couple items for breakfast, lunchmeat, and then one planned dinner meal (the recipe).... for $100 we can create 12 meals. most those meals have leftovers and become the next days lunch.  and so this is a lengthy paragraph in which i just described how awesome i am and super successful at accomplishing my made up tasks on my aforementioned to-do list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;another thing of late that i've become consumed with is facebook. i'm not sure what has snapped inside me. but staying apart of everyones life that i know has become really important to me. Perhaps it's the lack of people interaction that i have here in atlanta.  and thus, facebook is creating for me a sense of community. maybe that is pathetic. or maybe it's not. but staying in touch has created a sense of being loved and connected to the ones i loved and so if it is pathetic, then i suppose i'm willing to be pathetic in order to feel good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;and now, i hear my sister yelling through the house because she wants me to help her with her algebra test. which is... another blog in and of itself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;but before i dash off - an update on the visit of Rachel. It was so wonderful to see her. It is just always good conversation. Friday  T made three bean chili a vegetarian dish which was great and had lots of flavor (email me and i'll get you the recipe) and three of us all talked and just enjoyed one another company. Saturday, we all went out for Sushi (using a coupon from the Savvy Shopper of course) and then to the favorite place (&lt;a href="http://www.dreamygelato.com/"&gt;Dreamy Gelato&lt;/a&gt;) for of course... Gelato. So good. and again had great conversation. it was just good to get out and interact with a person and a bonus that, that person was the great Rachel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4830540562296088365?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4830540562296088365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4830540562296088365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4830540562296088365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4830540562296088365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/02/successful-and-accomplished.html' title='Successful and Accomplished'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2334437250380020210</id><published>2009-01-30T05:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T05:37:19.649-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vistors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rachel'/><title type='text'>Vistor Number 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;so it's 8. and i've been up since 5:30. Tommy had the opening shift and thus my early morning. tomorrow is the same. and on basic principle i am boycotting startin to clean because it's too early. no one should mop and scrub floors before 10 in my book, most certainly not before 8. The only exception is a menopausal woman, cause they are just crazy with the hot flashes and the not sleeping and the urge to clean things at 3 in the morning. but i'm not there yet. so... no cleaning. HOWEVER, my mother woke up and started cleaning crap about 45 minutes ago and asking questions about cleaning this or that and was i planning on doing this? and what about that? *ugh* moms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;i'm still boycotting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;the cleaning fury is due to visitor number 2! My dear friend Rachel is on her way from D-town to Atlanta. In a fun set of circumstances, Rachel had the opportunity to take an early weekend break/trip down her with her roomie. and why not when it's essentially free and you have cool peeps like me and tom to see??? so Rachel. Rachel and i go back a bit. I went to school with rachel. but i didn't know it until miss lor moved in with her across the hall from me back at Brougham manor. She worked at tyndale and one semester when my financial aid failed to come through was there with open arms to give me hug and stand by me as i figured out how i would financially be able to continue school. she later became my roommate when lor decided to go and get married to that muffin loving man. and that is the basis of knowing Rachel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;However, Rachel is so much more. She is the most balanced human being to walk this earth that i know of. I rate her on my list of cool people i love pretty much next to Madeleine L'Engle herself. and if you know me at all... you know that is one of the most highest honors. She is smart, incredibly well read, compassionate to no end, and a wonderful listener and wise beyond her years. She has the sweetest heart and if it weren't for the long talks over cheap white wine late in the night... i might have given up on God all together. But instead, i hung on and found Trinity. A church that is truely my hearts home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;You would think with the way i hold her in such high esteem i would spend tons of time with my dear Rachel. and yet that is not the case. Rachel and i have a horrible time stay in regular communication. Ever since i moved to ludington - the time when we split roomie ways... i just can't seem to pick up the darn phone and call her. this is not my only relationship that is like that ('drea). It seems to be a theme with a certain type of friend i have and i have yet to unlock the code to such as to why it is this way. all the same, i hold rachel near and dear in my heart despite the struggling communication situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;so it is with lots of love, excitement and high expectations that i look forward to seeing dear Rachel. I think we might have the vegetarian dish (new recipe) three bean chili tonight in her vegetarian honor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;so let this be a marker to you all... come and visit and i'll write cool blogs for you ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2334437250380020210?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2334437250380020210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2334437250380020210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2334437250380020210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2334437250380020210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/01/vistor-number-2.html' title='Vistor Number 2'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-6026839140524989014</id><published>2009-01-29T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T07:57:33.398-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='working out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>a 'weekend' update</title><content type='html'>ah yes. the blog. so it seems that i am a "bad blogger". oh well. i am accepting it as part of me. i've had it on my 'to do' list for about two weeks now and in the back of my mind for oooohhhh... always. it's always in the back of my mind. but somehow i've done everything on the list i can but this. and now. i can not NOT do it. it's like working out. i want to. i like the aftermath of it. but yet, i have a stupid internal battle constantly with it. maybe one day i will understand this stupid dynamic within myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we will do an "update".... it seems i'm always doing stupid updates. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we came back from michigan feeling refreshed. having had a couple months under our belt of EXACTLY what we were facing in this mess called Hotlanta. So we came back from the holidays ready to tackle it with new fervor. This included having some pretty deep heart to heart talks with my mom. And most importantly facing some life long wounds of my heart. I think it was the proverbial elephant in the room. Since then, I feel like we are all on the same page with life and the goals for erin and why we are here. which is 1. to rekindle/rebuild a relationship with my family and 2. to help my mom with erin... which means changing almost 10 years of co-dependent behavior between her and my mom. This is not an easy task. not even close. But at least we are on the same page, working toward the same goal and have achieved an overall understanding of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my job hunt continues. and it is not going well. Tommy has gotten a job with Krogers, which is "part time" but he seems to be getting about 30+ hours at this and there are talks and hopes with management that he will be full time soon. He is also keeping ears open for a 2nd part time job to help make ends meet. or make the ends a little more comfortable with them meeting. Since i have had little luck with the job. I've decided to go back to school and finish my stupid degree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a little research, we found out i can go to DeVry "free" because of my mom working there. "free" is subject to interpretation, though. there will still be class fees, book costs, and my mom will have to pay taxes on the cost of the class. but all this said, the cost is minimal in comparison. I have to take 30 hours to finish my degree. And when all is said and done i will have a degree in Business with a concentration in psychology. This should make me considerably more marketable when it comes to finding a job. Also, going to school opens me up to the resources of DeVry's carreer placement department which has a 98% succuss rate of finding jobs for their students. all of this is good. and so it is the plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way DeVry works i will start classes in March and finish the term by June. The term is made of 2 sessions and typically a full load would be taking 2 classes each session. In order to take care of this as soon as possible and to do so while i'm still getting unemployement, I will be taking 5 classes each session. 10 classes in 16 weeks. A LOT. i've never been strictly a "full time student". I've also worked at the very least part time. So i'm hoping that dedicating myself to complete and utterly school for 16 weeks will be possible. hard. but possible. and then come june... i have my pesky degree. a degree which will get me a little farther than my 2.5 upper level credits short of a psychology degree currently is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are still living here with my mom. and probably will be until june. but it's not bad. we finally rearranged the room we were staying in (the office) to be more condusive to us staying here. before... the room was an office. all around office with our air mattress in the middle of the floor. we would have to pick it up every day in order for the room to be useable. now, we have the office part of the room on one side and a permanent bedroom side to the room. so no more picking up an air mattress daily. now we can just make the bed like normal folk. i can not tell you how nice it is to have a space of our own instead of the previous situation of feeling like intruders in an office space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tom. tom is wonderful. a companion and partner in every sense of the words. i don't think i could do this without his support and continual encouragement. and laughter. never underestimate the power of laughter in a relationship. i'm pretty sure i could do just about anything with tom so long as we laughed our way through it. sometimes i wonder how i could have spent three years of my life with someone which was void of everything good. how did i end up there at all? and most the time... i don't know. and then in a glimpse... i know that i just didn't know before. like a kid who lives their life blind not being able to see the chalkboard and then gets glasses and is amazed by the clarity of letters and colors and shapes. the kid just didn't know they were blind cuz they had never seen before. and that is usually the best i can come up with. and i'm okay with that. &lt;em&gt;so it is good. it is very good&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new years resolutions has also brought tom and i to treadmilling daily. we've stuck to it pretty good for three weeks except for the last several days. a combination of schedules and health has kept us away from the gym, but today we get back on that horse. tom has done phenominal at weight loss... he's a regular biggest loser. i... not so much. but i tell myself (and actually try to believe it) that it's about being healthy and just doing it. and if healthy for me is heavier and bigger than what i would want. then it's okay. cuz i'm healthy. and that is really all that is important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so that's the update.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-6026839140524989014?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/6026839140524989014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=6026839140524989014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6026839140524989014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6026839140524989014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2009/01/weekend-update.html' title='a &apos;weekend&apos; update'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7252647836636783968</id><published>2008-11-11T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T10:16:07.903-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Blogging</title><content type='html'>i know i should be bloggin. posting everything. i wake up in the morning and think... today i will blog. i get coffee and think... blog. i grab somethin to eat and think blog. and yet i don't. days pass and i don't blog. infact, i have grown a slight aversion to the computer of late... mostly because it just makes me feel so homesick. i miss my people. and the lack of job interest is just disheartening. i've been waitin for 5 days now to hear back on this job with DeVry. my mom with the inside track says they haven't decided on anyone yet. she says no news is good news. but i figure if i didn't leave a good enough impression that they haven't choosen me yet... it couldn't be good. and honestly, i have no other leads. i will have to start over from scratch. it's just completely and utterly disheartening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i started reading the twilight series. i finished twilight and i'm not thinking i will go to the ole B&amp;amp;N to scope a copy of theirs... just borrow you know. since there is no money to be had for buying and the library copy is checked out. it's not that it's that great of a book... but it's something to do beside wait yet another day to hear nothing. it's just somewhere to escape where homesickness doesn't exisist. they economy is fine. and people aren't sick laying in bed all day wanting you to wait on them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so alas... i know i should blog. blog about birthdayness. blog about the upcoming arrival of chris and em next week. blog about the sportsbar and watching the lions game. about the church we've been goin to or anything else. but honestly, my heart just isn't there to do. i'm just hangin on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7252647836636783968?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7252647836636783968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7252647836636783968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7252647836636783968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7252647836636783968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/11/blogging.html' title='Blogging'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-192124667630831058</id><published>2008-10-27T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T21:55:59.456-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='italian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='erin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>HEY mambo... Mambo Italiano...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;tonight was italian night. mom gave us a bit of money to do some grocery shopping on since she doesn't actually eat REAL food (a story all unto itself). And so tom and i very carefully planned out the perfect little meals, the goal being to cook three good meals a week and survive off of leftovers the remaining time. and tonight was "Italiano".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now tom is a quarter italian. he has also been extremely poor the entire time i've known him. and this being said, i have had his spegetti and meatballs before. it's tasty. it's traditional. he does it well. and most important... it's cheap. so tonight Tom decided and psyched himself all up to make &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;his &lt;/span&gt;dish. and not just make it but MAKE it to impress the family. Tom loves to cook... it's true. anyone who knows him knows this. but more than just cooking tom loves to impress someone with his cooking. and so this gave him the perfect opportunity to do such and boy did he freaking knock it out of the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the sauce was amazing. huge cloves of garlic and onion... you could literally distinguish each ingredient as an individual &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;as a whole. each bit having a dominant part and yet each sharing to produce something bigger than itself. and the meatballs. amazing. big huge giant meatballs with such yummy flavor. the noodles were perfect and it came together ("come together right now"). i know some of you either make a mean spegetti or know someone who does and i have had some of these, but i assure you.. your spegetti would bow to what i partook tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was one of those meals that i imagined tasted like the scene from Chocolate where Juliette Binoche's character makes the birthday meal for Judi Dench's character and all the characters are falling over the food. it seems incredibly sensual as they eat and like they are about to keel over from how intense the flavors are in their mouths. or the scene from Big Night where everyone has eaten and is dancing around with joy and happy from the amazing 10 course meal they had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was one of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;those &lt;/span&gt;meals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to make the evening even more amazing was my sister. erin has not been known for parting from her bed often, but the more we are here the more we create reason for her to want to get out of bed. and she's been great... joining us whenever she feels up to it. tonight though was different. tonight she joined us even though she was in intense pain. tom gave her the 15 minute warning before the meal was to be ready and 5 minutes later out rolls erin quietly to the couch. i noticed that she lay in her spot (when she's not in bed) and was particularly quiet and pained looking. a few minutes later tears were running down her face as her pain level was quite high. but she stayed out with us. she took some pills (some really good pills) and choose to eat dinner with us. since she wasn't up to sitting at the table... we brought the table to her at the couch and the three of us had this amazing little meal. erin complained it was too spicy but i think that was just to keep up the roll of not being completely happy with something ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earlier in the evening, tom had mentioned the idea of what we might do for dessert. we had run down the options - normal ice cream or maybe baking chocolate chip cookies or maybe... just maybe we could drive up to that little gelato shop we saw this weekend and get official italian ice cream to top the meal off just right. erin shoo-ed the idea, but god love tom he brought up again as we ate. erin's meds were kicking in and as she ate she began to really perk up. we finished our heavenly meal and were letting it digest a bit when good old tom put the idea out there one more time... and she bit. of course, we had to go just as we were (i was in my p.js.) and she wasn't getting out of the car. but it was a deal. so we loaded up the car (a slightly time consuming process) and drove up two exits to get some gelato. so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the sweets were definately good. but the memory of the night and the laughs and the classic dean martin playing in the background... that was priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-192124667630831058?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/192124667630831058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=192124667630831058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/192124667630831058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/192124667630831058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/10/hey-mambo-mambo-italiano.html' title='HEY mambo... Mambo Italiano...'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4921988731891246414</id><published>2008-10-23T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T17:43:17.586-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>rest? or procrastination?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;so i am attempting to write daily. or maybe close to it. just to be closer to those that are actually far away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;today was kind of a wash day. in fact, lots of the days feel that way. but if we applied for jobs then i think i've done what i am suppose to do. but of course, i usually feel pretty down at the end of that. because job hunting just isn't what it used to be back in the day. back in the day, you had your resume in hand and you physically went in and shook someones hand, you introduced yourself, and they could decide without a personality test that you would or would not be a good fit for their company. But now in the age of technoloy and de-personalization job hunting is now you and your computer and the only thing a potential employeer sees is a piece of paper that represents you. or is at least suppose to represent you. and so many people lie this day and age. or try to make themselves look better than what they are. and so my resume, honest to a freaking crossed 't' looks, i'm sure, no different then joe shmo (not to be confused with the overly talked about joe the plumber) down the street. i'm sure i get thrown in the pile of all the rest. and my friends i am just not an "all the rest" kind of worker. i am good damn it. but when you are treated like you don't matter. you kinda start to feel that way. and so job hunting isn't what it used to be. and at the end of applying for every job posted on craigslist, careerbuilder, monster, the atlanta journal of constitution which uses Yahoo! Hot Jobs and then simplyhired on a daily basis and not getting a single response day after day after day... today i didn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;i meant to. i had every intention to. but i got up. cleaned the kitchen. got erin her meds. dyed my hair (nothing special). ate some lunch. watched a movie with erin in which i was so sleepy i fell asleep adn then woke up, helped make dinner, cleaned the kitchen, folded some laundry, ran the vaccum and then walked to get the mail. and the day is gone. i feel guilty i didn't job hunt today. okay i applied for one job. but not the usual regiment. and yet i also feel rested. and not depressed about the non-responses i'm getting. just guilty. if i could only shake that guilt. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;anywho, my mom did make a call and ask if i would at the very least be interviewed for the job at DeVry. She was told i was already on the list. They are only interviewing 5 people. and i know that there is also an internal person interested in the position. My mom says it's up to me to get it. She can only get me an interview. so they are suppose to be calling for personality tests and an interview. We shall see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;on the other hand, i got a call from a company wanting to know if i would relocate to Dallas, TX for a job. *sigh* i JUST did that. ... if only i had the job. ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;but alas, Grey's Anatomy is on in 18 minutes and the world will be right for an hour before i must return to reality. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4921988731891246414?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4921988731891246414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4921988731891246414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4921988731891246414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4921988731891246414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/10/rest-or-procrastination.html' title='rest? or procrastination?'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-9217933866125974003</id><published>2008-10-22T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T19:36:40.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tricks and Treats</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_jAHbVveI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/EIfkG-eRHRM/s1600-h/and+yet+more+pumpkins+save.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_jAHbVveI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/EIfkG-eRHRM/s200/and+yet+more+pumpkins+save.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260172480925253090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;we carved pumpkins. tom and i bought pumpkins on friday with the hopes of carving them. to get erin up and out of bed and to do something fun and bonding. i don't ever remember carving pumpkins as a family in my life. my mom swears we did it once, but i don't remember. it's not that my mom or famil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_hxl409uI/AAAAAAAAADo/5gIx9eWP3Hc/s1600-h/erin%27s+crow+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_hxl409uI/AAAAAAAAADo/5gIx9eWP3Hc/s200/erin%27s+crow+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260171131892332258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;y wasn't festive or that we didn't like to bond. it's just that usually there wasn't money for things like pumpkins and then if there might have been a few extra bucks, my mom just didn't have the time. she was the mom and the dad in our family. when she wasn't working or doing housework or yard work or when my sister got sick - taking care of her... she was usually collapsed in a chair resting or taking a nap. my mom's signature position at any family holiday get together is almost always asleep on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_iZf6g-6I/AAAAAAAAAEA/AY-SdnK4xeA/s1600-h/monster+pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_iZf6g-6I/AAAAAAAAAEA/AY-SdnK4xeA/s200/monster+pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260171817483565986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;the couch. becuase it's the only time the lady stops moving and sleep is pretty much instantaneous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;so we didn't carve pumpkins or dye easter eggs. we usually bonded around t.v. shows because that didn't actually take physical energy or creative energy. my mom used to watch the X-files. that was our big show... so were M*A*S*H re-runs and star-trek. erin didn't dig any of our shows, but two against one... hee hee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;but last night, we carved pumpkins. erin had a reason to get out of bed. mom could obes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_isZjqWVI/AAAAAAAAAEI/M6e_6KdVOOM/s1600-h/pumpkin-seed-cooking+tom+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_isZjqWVI/AAAAAAAAAEI/M6e_6KdVOOM/s200/pumpkin-seed-cooking+tom+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260172142194612562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;se about how to light a pumpkin without using a candle, i could get my craft on and carve and tom could do what he does... take it all in (and make amazing pumpkin seeds). it was a good time. we talked and teased and carved. it was a good time and i really like my pumpkin. it makes me happ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_h-Jbug9I/AAAAAAAAADw/MOKxbGW1bn0/s1600-h/the+happiest+pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_h-Jbug9I/AAAAAAAAADw/MOKxbGW1bn0/s200/the+happiest+pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260171347592381394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;y. tom's pumpkin makes me extremely happy too. i think some of the happiest people in the world are those with downsyndrome. i love the way they can capture love and life and happy in a smile. and tom's pumpkin... it is soo the downs pumpkin. it makes me happy. extremely happy. and it makes me think of beautiful gweny. which again... makes me super happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-9217933866125974003?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/9217933866125974003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=9217933866125974003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/9217933866125974003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/9217933866125974003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/10/tricks-and-treats.html' title='Tricks and Treats'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_jAHbVveI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/EIfkG-eRHRM/s72-c/and+yet+more+pumpkins+save.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-7805881997503597212</id><published>2008-10-22T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T19:17:07.148-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='move'/><title type='text'>we're here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XXDNVdsI/AAAAAAAAADA/fQZHtiYIvIk/s1600-h/trying+to+smile+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XXDNVdsI/AAAAAAAAADA/fQZHtiYIvIk/s200/trying+to+smile+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260159680790230722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just &lt;/span&gt;realized that it's been almost a month since my last post. good grief... time has been flying past. wow. i'm a little stunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywho. we are in atlanta. the past several weeks has been an amazing push and whirlwind of trying to get two apartments packed, interview for jobs 800 miles away, cut off services, change address', say goodbyes, make time for friends, fullfill commitments and load a 26 foot uhaul truck with everything the two of us own. it was three weeks of so much. so much i can't even begin to tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XiFZIu7I/AAAAAAAAADI/vWbHIYM3zmA/s1600-h/truckin+n+ridin+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XiFZIu7I/AAAAAAAAADI/vWbHIYM3zmA/s200/truckin+n+ridin+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260159870355159986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then we drove. a trip that usually can be done in 12 hours - one day. took two days and like 18 hours in the massive truck. we did the math.... i'm not even sure how it took so long. but it did. and it was exhausting. being giggled round and round up and down on that bloody thing after days of packing and lifting only made sore muscles... o&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XvngKkFI/AAAAAAAAADQ/NE1jwvoirNM/s1600-h/trucking..again+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XvngKkFI/AAAAAAAAADQ/NE1jwvoirNM/s200/trucking..again+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260160102849744978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;h so much more so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then we got here. and nothing. we unpacked the truck in a big ole storage unit and spent the next couple days sleeping and trying recouperate while making some phone calls, mailing out some paperwork and other mundane businessy crap. but all in all it felt pretty darn anti-clamatic. it was like going 100 miles an hour for so long and then we just hit a wall. the wall was our goal: get to atlanta. and then we were faced with the mundaneness of life. life that travels at more like 35 mph. here we are. in atlanta. now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_dAwNdpNI/AAAAAAAAADY/c_AXnW8OEzM/s1600-h/view+of+ride+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_dAwNdpNI/AAAAAAAAADY/c_AXnW8OEzM/s200/view+of+ride+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260165894803137746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we scooped out a church. a nice episcopalian number. we had plans to go on sunday. we even made a trial run to the spot to make sure we knew where it was and how long it would take in the morning to get there. and then, sunday morning was attack of my tummy. bad stuff kids. so we missed out on the new thing. and i slept all day. aaaalll day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now we apply to jobs. it's kinda of depressing in all honesty. when tom came down to visit and we were making the decision to move or not to move, we checked the job market out. and the market was good. and a month later. after hours and hours of coverage on how crappy the economy is.... the job market in atlanta is catching up with the rest of country. and so. it's depressing.  we try and hit all the job sites and all the new posts every morning and then spend the afternoon doing something fun. one night we went out on a date, and last night we carved pumpkins. today we uploaded photos and tried to get the posting on all the sites together. and thus...this post :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_eXDkPCoI/AAAAAAAAADg/IL5ctU3gOuY/s1600-h/fuzzykisses+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_eXDkPCoI/AAAAAAAAADg/IL5ctU3gOuY/s200/fuzzykisses+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260167377467673218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the honest to god truth is, this would be the most miserable time of my life if it weren't that my best friend is here with me. to talk about stuff. important stuff not important stuff. to laugh at the goofiness and naturally retarded ways of life and to be my strength. to make me a cup of tea or cup of coffee and smile or make fun of me. he is my oasis in this soul desert. and i can't tell you how thankful i am for him in my life enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-7805881997503597212?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/7805881997503597212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=7805881997503597212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7805881997503597212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/7805881997503597212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/10/were-here.html' title='we&apos;re here'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_XXDNVdsI/AAAAAAAAADA/fQZHtiYIvIk/s72-c/trying+to+smile+small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-6538282702258917357</id><published>2008-09-30T08:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T10:02:37.811-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='detroit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='road trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='move'/><title type='text'>A whirlwind of a week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;so here we are, tuesday... already. and ahead of me is one very crazy and packed week. i'm back in detroit and my visit to atlanta was life changing. it was good. it was bad. it was a many many things but i made some pretty big decisions while i was there. the number one - was to move to atlanta to help my mom out, to get to know my family again (it's been 8 years since i've lived near them) and to love on my sister. this was not an easy or quick decision made. there has been so much talk, so much meditating, so much thought put behind it. lists of pros and cons made and what it all really means. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;but this is what i know without a shadow of a doubt. that family comes first. that you take care of your family at all cost no matter what your or who your family looks like or is. and that this was the first time in my entire life that my mother called me to come and help her with my sister. that standing in the emergency room with my mother outside my sisters door and looking into her worn and weary eyes and realizing that she's given all she can give and she is asking for help - not just for a week or two.... but HELP. i've realized that my family has seen me evolve over the last 8 years from a distance and we have stayed in contact via the phone (at least me and my mom) but that there is much that a phone conversation or holiday visits don't convey. there is much they don't see or realize about me and me about them. that in reality my sister and i, the girl i used to protect from my dad, have lost each other. that her illness has kept her in a bed and hermit like and too sick to know me at all.. and me to know her. this is something that has grieved me a long time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;and then, i also know that i have no job. i have been looking here and applied few places as there isn't much to even apply to. or what is.. just doesn't pay enough to even cover my bills. my bills that i've even lowered over the last several months by several hundred dollars. and i know that the job economy is so much better in atlanta. 1. in job availiablity and 2. in the wages being paid for those jobs. i know cuz i've applied for about 50 of them. getting one potential bite... we will see (fingers crossed it's something good).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;and thus, these are the two largest driving motivations behind this decision. there are a ton of small little things, as is with anything. pros and cons. advantages and disadvantages. benifits and then again huge scarifices. but in the end, this is the undeniable open door that has presented iteself that i am saying yes... i will walk through you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;in addition, there is thomas. my dear sweet thomas who has never lived more than 30 miles from the place he was born. he has become over the months the other half of me. and seperation by 800 miles would be unbearable.  not to mention, he has been effected by the job economy in detroit for over a year now. and so, he will join me in my move to the south.  i can not tell you how much this means to me. that i do not have to walk this road alone and get to be accompained by my best friend. that i have found a person in my life commited to doing what is right even in the mist of huge sacrifice. that he takes on the responsibilty and the duty of my family as his own with love and care as if it were his own family. it need not even be said how radically different this is for me. coming from a relationship in which i spent one christmas with my family in a three year span. the only time, aside from my wedding, that we were around my family at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;and so, this week will be and already is a whirlwind. we arrived late last night in detroit with about one week to pack up and move out. attempting to get back to atlanta as soon as possible for a multitude of reasons. to not pay out any more rent between our two places as possible which limits the money that is going out... considering we have my unemployement as the only source of income. to get jobs as soon as possible to get money coming in. and to be there for my family as my mom has classes starting back up the end of this week. it's a lot. it's heavy. so much to do and so litttle time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;the hardest thing is saying goodbye to all we love. i love detroit. i have found a family apart from blood in this town and leaving when it seems i JUST got back is hard. a luxury i am scarificing now for a period of time. i know that it won't be forever. i will be back to live. but for the next year, maybe two... my life lies in all the above things. there will be visists. this time will be different. not so far apart and not so short and i am going to do my darndest my freaking darndeest to stay in touch with everyone long distance. and to not do such a crappy job of staying in touch like the last time i left. and so. as i get a little emotional.. the real world calls me to do the real job of a butt-load of packing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-6538282702258917357?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/6538282702258917357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=6538282702258917357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6538282702258917357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6538282702258917357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/whirlwind-of-week.html' title='A whirlwind of a week'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2678716744985461391</id><published>2008-09-25T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T07:45:51.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>an overdue atlanta post</title><content type='html'>i've started an updating post a couple times now, over the last couple days... but.. didn't get farther than the title before i was interrupted or lost interest... so. here is another attempt. and so far, i've gotten farther than the title so i must be on a role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so erin, my sister is out of the hospital. we had a bit of a scare on thursday night with her blood sugar dropping super low and a very green nurse not knowing how to adminster the glucose shot. so not cool. scared the crap out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then my mom got erin out of the hospital on saturday morning and by saturday night we were back in the emergency room. they ran all the normal tests, gave fluids, gave mega drugs and then said there was no medical reason to admit her even though she was visibly sick... so they sent us home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we have been home since. all of this such a nut shell version of the events. it's been a pretty emotional rollercoaster. what i do know is that my mom is a very tired lady. having lived here and taken care of my sister for sooooooooooo oooooo oooooo many years alone, she's hitting her limit of what she can do. and that has led me to seriously question my part in this whole thing. i moved to detroit about 6 months before my mom and sister moved to atlanta. i went to school. fell in love with detroit. met so many cool people that essentially became my family away from my family and i have now lived almost 10 years away from my mom and sister. comin back for holidays and vacations for visists. my mom has always done well handling things. always managed to happily juggle everything and completely earned the award for the most amazing mom ever. i never felt like i was needed per say. i was always welcomed to move to atlanta and my mom has always said she would love to be near me again. but i never felt led to move per say. until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now my mom is tired. and visibly needs some help. if not help, just support. and so here i am now looking for jobs in atlanta. thomas is here too. giving me support and looking to move as well. the job economy has been so rough in detroit and with both of us jobless and a very big need arising in my family... we are seeing what we can do. so that is the scoop. it's been a little tryin. and a lot of questions.. are we doing the right thing? what is right? it's just such a big step... especially after i JUST moved from ludington. but alas, family is family and i believe that you take care of your family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2678716744985461391?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2678716744985461391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2678716744985461391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2678716744985461391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2678716744985461391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/overdue-atlanta-post.html' title='an overdue atlanta post'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4042451778959004581</id><published>2008-09-17T19:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T10:40:20.513-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='road trip'/><title type='text'>The Ride in Music Reflections</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;We had the Phoenix trip recapped in pictures - made up pictures at that. and now we have Atlanta brought to you in songs heard on the radio and the rambling memories they brought. We have the top &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:courier new;" &gt;9 songs of the trip countdown&lt;/span&gt; (because 10 is over-rated): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;9. Phil Collins - Paradise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;First of all i have an undying love for Phil Collins.. how can you not love man? Second, i have an undying love for Phil Collins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;8. Tom Petty - I Won't Back down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Tom Petty brings me to the last quarter at Cedarville with my ladies. It was Ms. Gina that introduced me to Live and Tom Petty and we must of listened to Mary Jane a million times as we drove between Xenia and the 'ville. Since then "T.P." has always had a special part in my heart.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;7. Semisonic - Closing Time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The song came out the year before i graduated high school and this particular day on the radio on, once again, a drive between Xenia and the 'ville with my first roommate of the 'ville experience. I had an extremely difficult time adjusting to life at the ville and being so far away from home. It was fall and i remember staring out the window getting lost in the passing trees and really listening to the lyrics hoping that they were true. that as one door closed another would open and that i would soon find my place at Cedarville and college and life. I did eventually. But the song brought back that seemingly innocent drive (and it was) that day.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;6. Nelly Furtado - I'm Like a Bird&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I was first introduced to Nelly by Shinn. I think it was one of the many occasions while i lived with the cult that he called and said. I'm coming over in 5 min be ready. and we went up to a Billy T's. [apparently doing homework on friday night was unacceptable to him.] We were drivin back from the event, i feeling particularly low... who knows why - probalby a result of one of my most recent stupid decisions. and he popped in his new Nelly Furtado cd. i was captivated. when he dropped me off, i borrowed the cd and sat in my room listening to it over and over and reading the lyrics to soak it all up. i loved it. loved it. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;5. Marcy Playground - Sex &amp;amp; Candy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;ohh high school, i remember driving around in leona's car and singing at the top of our lungs. driving the drag! ha! for those not familar with my "high school drag" it was sonic, down one of the main roads to main street, turning around in the gas station and then back... like a 4 mile one stop light drag. small life i'm telling you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;4. Journey - Separate Ways&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;love journey ... how can you not! Lordy i'm a product of the 80's i tell you. I went and saw them in concert with a large cult group including the bests it was great. We listened to the CD all the way to Pine Knob and pretty much got a contact high from the pot being smoked around us. such good times.&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;3. Heart - All i Wanna do Is Make love to You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;again. love heart. and again... a reminder of the Cedarville days. The second roomie of the year loved heart and introduced me to the group. We used to crank it in the dorm and dance around. This one was one of my favorites and as i left the 'ville to go back home i made a mix tape of all the great songs that defined my time there. This was one of them. It's not played on the radio often...so a real jem when i happened across it on the drive to Atlanta.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;2. Old Crow Medicine Show - Wagon Wheel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;This one might be cheating a little bit. All the other songs were on the radio and complete happenstance. Where as, this one... was on a cd i brought with me. But i am soooo loving this song these days. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, i am determined to memorize the darn thing. i love songs with lots of lyrics and the sound of the song is great... i must have listened to this song 30 times, easy in the last 48 hours. i just keep going over and over it and it never gets old. I don't know why some songs are that way. Another one of those was, Matchbox 20's, Unwell which also got played 30 or more times on a former trip to Atlanta.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;and now... without further adieu...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;1. Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;it's classic. bottom line. but the memory attached was one recently formed within the last year. On my last trip to Atlanta back in March, i gave a ride back to my very proper Aunt to detroit. I love my aunt to pieces as we are much alike. But she is slightly on the proper side. and i was playing through my mp3 music and on comes Bohemian Rhapsody.. and we drove along singing together at the top of our lungs and as loud as the radio would go... "Mama... i just killed a man... " an awesome memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4042451778959004581?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4042451778959004581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4042451778959004581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4042451778959004581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4042451778959004581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/ride-in-music-reflections.html' title='The Ride in Music Reflections'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-8259311971063295556</id><published>2008-09-17T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T19:37:49.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Atlanta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: courier new;"&gt;i had this great post that i formed in my head as i was driving.. and i may still do it. but right now, i just don't have the energy. i sat at the hospital all day. i took a nap and did nothing and yet i am exhausted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: courier new;"&gt;here is a picture of harp that makes me smile. she is laying her head on my lap in the car on the drive down. she's my sweet girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SNG-yB9h1XI/AAAAAAAAACA/Jiw2f1CkLnM/s1600-h/harp+lap+small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SNG-yB9h1XI/AAAAAAAAACA/Jiw2f1CkLnM/s320/harp+lap+small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247184807592580466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-8259311971063295556?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/8259311971063295556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=8259311971063295556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8259311971063295556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8259311971063295556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-atlanta.html' title='In Atlanta'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SNG-yB9h1XI/AAAAAAAAACA/Jiw2f1CkLnM/s72-c/harp+lap+small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-74138600499915623</id><published>2008-09-15T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T14:37:09.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Preparing to Leave Again</title><content type='html'>My sister intially went into the hospital because she was dehydrated as a complication to not being able to keep anything down. They admitted for the week to 1.) figure out why she was so sick and not able to keep food or water in and 2.) to rehydrate her after a long stint of not being able to do so. Once this was accomplished she was released on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Friday afternoon, she was having terrible leg cramps and charlie horses mostly in her legs, but effecting her entire body... including her head. Who know a head could have muscle spasms? She was readmitted to the hospital- actually ICU - this time because once she arrived at the hospital she was "DKA".  &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diabetic_ketoacidosis"&gt;Diabetic Ketoacidosis.  &lt;/a&gt;They put her on an i.v. of insulin to try and regulate her. Yesterday afternoon she was moved from ICU to a regular room and awaiting news on what comes next. Today she still has muscle spasms which no one yet seems to know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus, with this going on and my mom continuing to teach classes and attempt to work on her Doctoral Thesis, she has asked me to come down and help. So tomorrow in the morning i leave for yet another trip away from home. I am not expected to return until Oct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, is preparing for this. *sigh* i feel like i am always leaving these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-74138600499915623?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/74138600499915623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=74138600499915623' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/74138600499915623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/74138600499915623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/preparing-to-leave-again.html' title='Preparing to Leave Again'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4298985971553198131</id><published>2008-09-10T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T19:51:37.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>meh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am cranky tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;so take that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4298985971553198131?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4298985971553198131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4298985971553198131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4298985971553198131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4298985971553198131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/meh.html' title='meh'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-8495898645478785371</id><published>2008-09-09T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T13:47:07.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Views on the Ride and a failed Hike</title><content type='html'>So on my drive, i passed some cool things and used my handy little phone to document my trip.... visually. preparing for this post. so i get home (i'm back in Michigan now) . and go to upload my pictures, and BAM! they are deleted. long story short my "synchornizing" settings deleted them upon impact. they never had a chance. sooo i have searched the web and done my best to recreate my ride in picture form. all pictures are stolen and chosen because they were the closest thing i could find to the ACTUAL pictures i once had. so enjoy. the trip in images.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbSKSrg0XI/AAAAAAAAAAY/HTwcsDaMTV8/s1600-h/St.+Louis+arch.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbSKSrg0XI/AAAAAAAAAAY/HTwcsDaMTV8/s320/St.+Louis+arch.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244109890374390130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know. it's a well known image... the arch in St. Louis. my picture was similar... a rainy day and blue tones.  super cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbTZMBvPEI/AAAAAAAAAAg/MNiuzIO5ih0/s1600-h/ok+windmills.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbTZMBvPEI/AAAAAAAAAAg/MNiuzIO5ih0/s320/ok+windmills.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244111245798227010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone knows that i hate Oklahoma. However, there were these fields of giant windmills. it was a particularly striking image. completely flat land with towering beasts churning away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbT3AV4Y0I/AAAAAAAAAAo/WiTzAVqlYDY/s1600-h/new+mexico+I40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbT3AV4Y0I/AAAAAAAAAAo/WiTzAVqlYDY/s320/new+mexico+I40.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244111758057562946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Oklahoma City i picked up I-40. And i traveled it for 852 miles. Going through Amarillo, and across the entire state of New Mexico. This is the scenary the entire drive. Very typical Southwest look, but when you are ACTUALLY driving through these bad boys you feel amazingly small. totally surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbXZtaxG1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/Qe24r7frQZ4/s1600-h/new+mexico+i40+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbXZtaxG1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/Qe24r7frQZ4/s320/new+mexico+i40+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244115652808088402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbYAq8peCI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KkYTrPVPun0/s1600-h/Sick+Moby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbYAq8peCI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KkYTrPVPun0/s320/Sick+Moby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244116322159786018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moby got sick on the last day of travel. We had to stop a lot and i took pity on him and let him sit in my lap while i drove. He was pretty pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbYj5HuePI/AAAAAAAAABA/grsfu24wblA/s1600-h/talkingamerica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 94px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbYj5HuePI/AAAAAAAAABA/grsfu24wblA/s400/talkingamerica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244116927259769074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the highlight of my drive was passing the BBC election 08 bus. I know this sounds completely retarded but - one. British people are cool. and two. i have been completely sucked into the presidential race like never before. who knows why. maybe cuz i'm older. maybe because thomas is more into politics so we talk a lot about it. or maybe because this is the FIRST time since i was born that my birthday falls on election tuesday on a presidential election year. I was born the day Reagan was voted into office. anyways. it kicked butt that i saw them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbZt_PWuRI/AAAAAAAAABI/ROKKjB4qR4M/s1600-h/sharon+and+bill+on+thunderbird+mt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 247px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbZt_PWuRI/AAAAAAAAABI/ROKKjB4qR4M/s400/sharon+and+bill+on+thunderbird+mt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244118200212699410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it gets a little silly about now. S &amp;amp; B convinced me we should go hiking. and this sounded like a great idea since i had sat for three days straight in a car and added countless pounds since i had eaten crap food, as well. This is the "small" mountain that was to be the "prep" climb to a planned&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbagBjjc0I/AAAAAAAAABQ/BRbr2Ixah_I/s1600-h/b+and+s+hike+to+top.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 202px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbagBjjc0I/AAAAAAAAABQ/BRbr2Ixah_I/s400/b+and+s+hike+to+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244119059827749698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; trip up Camelback - a serious hike... and um. needless to say... i didn't even make it to the top... but they did! goooo them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... ya... below... that is camelback. big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbbZ_r9vTI/AAAAAAAAABg/pz0LMjcPJpc/s1600-h/camelback.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbbZ_r9vTI/AAAAAAAAABg/pz0LMjcPJpc/s200/camelback.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244120055758568754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbdQfkDtJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ldBSY06g-s8/s1600-h/view+from+mtn+erica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbdQfkDtJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ldBSY06g-s8/s320/view+from+mtn+erica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244122091539903634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbcbXJ8e-I/AAAAAAAAABw/dpzwaYJiwWg/s1600-h/erica+dead+on+mtn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbcbXJ8e-I/AAAAAAAAABw/dpzwaYJiwWg/s320/erica+dead+on+mtn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244121178749828066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like i said. i did NOT make it to the top of Thunderbird Mountain. the mountain that was suppose to be a 20 min hike up and 20 min down. i don't know if i was out of shape. (probably). or the heat (105 degress that day). the altitude... um it was high and the air was thin. all i know is my body protested... BIG. the REALLY discouraging thing, was that 5 minutes after i told B&amp;amp;S to go ahead without me... i would wait for them right where i was.... i kid you not... a 7 month prego lady RUNS up the mountain. boy did i ever feel like i sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this concludes the tour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-8495898645478785371?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/8495898645478785371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=8495898645478785371' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8495898645478785371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8495898645478785371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/views-on-ride-and-failed-hike.html' title='Views on the Ride and a failed Hike'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SMbSKSrg0XI/AAAAAAAAAAY/HTwcsDaMTV8/s72-c/St.+Louis+arch.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-6247284541454974420</id><published>2008-09-07T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T10:46:36.914-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='road trip'/><title type='text'>bumps in the road</title><content type='html'>i have safely arrived in phoenix, arizona. tired and quite simply exhausted from three days of driving... i pretty much collapsed. i did, however, have a few interesting little stories of complications on my little journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it first started with the hated state of oklahoma. anyone who knows me knows that being from texas it is inbred in me to hate oklahoma. its a football thing. so as i travel this horrible state of flatness and desolateness and network of horrible toll roads with no exits... i come across the 19th toll of the day. having the foresight of this already, i have been saving and collecting my small bills and change. Hoooowever... i come to this last toll and i am out of change. i need $1.00 and i have $.80. There are two toll booths... but no people. to "accomodate" this situation the "great" state has decided to put change machines infront of the toll collecting booth so you can make change. however, on this day... their lousy machine is not working. now tell me what do YOU do.. when you have no money, are on a toll, the equipment is working and there are cars piling up behind you honking in anger when you are faced with sitting at a toll for the rest of your life or going forward and breaking a law???? what i did, was panic and start through anything i could at the darn machine... okay not anything... but pennies. hoping it toooo might malfunction and decided to count them towards the $.80 i had already dumped in there. and then, in a moment of desperation my eye caught a phone number on the machine... and i called it. telling them my situation, and that i had no idea what to do. so in case you ever find yourself in this situation... this is what you do. you call the number. you give them the number of the machine. you write the number down so you can call them the next day and figure out how to pay your toll.  it only reinforced my thoughts and feelings on how horrible oklahoma is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next day, friday morning i wake. and find myself depleted of cash from two days of travel and tolls. so i do what any normal person does and goes to the first atm i can find, disregarding any fees and attempt to get cash. and the stupid thing ATE my atm card. so i calm myself, walk into the bank hoping they can just open the little machine and give me back my atm card. and the woman inside informs me that 1) they do not have a key... a seperate company manages the machine 2.) the company will not be there till late in the day and 3.) the likelyhood of my card NOT being shredded is pretty much slim to none. so here i am, in amarillo. no cash. about 800 miles from phoenix. 1200 miles from home with no cash. and facing a drive through the desert with pretty much one city between there and flagstaff - 600 miles away. yep. i needed cash. luckily, i had grabbed my checkbook just "incase" i might need it. and i needed it. the bank was nice enough to cash me a check for cash and get me back on the road with lots of apologies. i still have to call my bank, cancel my debit card and order a new one which will take a couple weeks to get. but at least i was able to get back on the road with only an hour and half delay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but THEN i realized i had left my phone charger in the hotel and that i would HAVE to go back for it. yuck. pretty much at this point i was thinking texas MUST be taking revenge on me for having left its borders. it was punshment for leaving and moving north.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then back on the road, getting on the exit to the great I-40 which i drove for over 800 miles across the country... a stupid texan driver STOPS on the entrance ramp. WHAT?!?!!?!? she stops. doesn't merge and waits for the traffic to clear. by this time, i was so ready to leave texas it wasn't funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all things considered - it was a good trip. i saw a huge part of our country. was exposed to lots of radio talk shows and small town americas opinions on the political race. and have a great story when i'm 80 years old and rocking on the porch to tell my grandkids about the time i drove over 2,000 miles across the country by myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-6247284541454974420?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/6247284541454974420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=6247284541454974420' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6247284541454974420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/6247284541454974420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/bumps-in-road.html' title='bumps in the road'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2025062827753163304</id><published>2008-09-05T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T07:03:52.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Language of Being</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;so, as these things go... in a flash i am on my way to phoenix, az. driving 2,000 + miles in the course of 2 and 1/2 - 3 days to deliver the friends pup - the great mob-ster.  this is day 3 of my trip as i blog from Amarillo, TX. (go texas). so much driving has given me time to think and drive and listen to sub-par books on tape. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;on Wednesday evening, i found myself wishing i had chosen to bring my serious read "Soul Mate" by Thomas Moore instead of my silly read... "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants - 2". "Soul Mate" sounds like a title of book that goes with a mushy read of flowers an fluff. This is not, however, what this books hold. It's the follow up book to "Care of the Soul" and speaks about the language of the soul particular in relationship... and not mushy relationships but just relationships of all kinds. It is filled with lots of mystic language, because after all - a soul IS a difficulty thing to put into words. There seems to be lots of greek myths mentioned... needless it's a bit interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;but i found myself wanting to read this as i drove, because the soul is a funny thing. i mean it completely has NO brain. it can not be reasoned with. its just this essence that seems to flow from you and you get feelings but there is no words for them... they just come. sometimes you get images or remember things, and your mind says to you... "why are you feeling THIS about THAT??? we've already worked through THAT and you are over it." but your soul is like "whateva whateva... i'll do what i want". (ha!) and all you can do, like a child that just won't cooperate is let the soul sit and flow until it lines up with your mind.  and occasionally shake your head at the ridiculousness of what it wants to hash up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;road trips are good for soul flowing, i think. because you drive, you physically are "flowing" down the road. a song comes on that triggers a thought a memory... you feel it and then move on to the next spontaneous thing that bubbles it up. in the course of a normal day, life just gets to busy to deal with all these little spontaneous thoughts. so we have the tendency to push them aside, shove them down, not take the time to think about them (at least i am guilty of this) and go along our day because there are just things we have to do. and i think sometimes, our soul gets full and it overflows with life unprocessed and if not processed will just make us sick. i think i've gotten there recently. and so this trip has been good for me. i can't even tell you what i've thought about... because it happens in a glimpse, it a split of a second. an indescribable feeling that you feel that has no rational thought. all i know is that at the end of a long road trip like this one... i just feel better. i feel lighter. i feel fresher. it is the mystery of the soul... a language of being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Random fact: a paper less crayon can only bare 4 lbs of weight before it will snap... but a papered crayon (with wrapper) can bare up to 8 lbs before snapping.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2025062827753163304?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2025062827753163304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2025062827753163304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2025062827753163304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2025062827753163304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/09/language-of-being.html' title='A Language of Being'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2182621710419792235</id><published>2008-08-28T06:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T06:22:38.828-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='detroit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Why I moved to the D-town</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;i get a decent amount of questions or questionable looks when people hear that i'm from texas but i think of detroit at home. that not only did i make the trek to the metro area a little over 8 years ago. but that i also came back after my divorce. i could have gone anywhere... namely, atlanta where my mom lives. or back to texas where 80% of my family is. however, my heart was here in detroit. and the last week has served nothing but reinforcement of that decision. as i mentioned in my last blog, i've been pretty sick. i finally went to the doctor (read urgent care since i have no insurance).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the weeks leading up to my 12 hour visit to the u of m complex, thomas has been amazing. being incredibly supportive and putting up with my whiny, whiny ways. and i assure you... i can be whiny when i am sick. but he has been a champ. including waiting with me in the e.r. and giving updates to kristy and my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the following day of the e.r. trip, seemed filled with a million phone calls. my mom. every individual of the smallish clan (and there are 8 folks!!). im-ing with lor. i even had a call from the miss samantha (although it was completely unrelated). i was struck with how many people in my life love me. how many people in my life i am so blessed and fortunate to know. i don't think i can even take in the full impact of the whole thing. because a glimpse of it seems to blow me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i found myself curled up in bed, exhausted and feeling rather puky thinking... this, THIS is why i moved to detroit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2182621710419792235?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2182621710419792235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2182621710419792235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2182621710419792235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2182621710419792235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-i-moved-to-d-town.html' title='Why I moved to the D-town'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-2932039348670423558</id><published>2008-08-23T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T17:56:11.780-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apartment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>kicked when down</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;so it's been a bit. and i haven't fallen off the world. promise. well, maybe i did for a bit. but for the evening i've rejoined.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;the past week i've been yuckily sick with mysterious sickness of no name. just symptoms of fever, backpain, and the amazing ability to sleep 17 hours a day (and other random irritations i will not mention). i really think sleeping this much is really quite a talent. i heard on CNN several weeks ago that NASA was running tests on sleeping and looking for volunteers to live in bed for three months straight and they weren't allowed to get up. i think this week, i would have been a fine candidate for such testing. The report said it was paying quite a bit for people who willing to stay in bed for three months.... and with the new status of jobless, this could come in handy. maybe i'll look into that for a new job... NASA volunteer. could look good on the resume. its' an option. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;so we will rewind to the week after i got home from Arkansas and before i became ill and couch ridden. that week i spent feeling empowered. having spent that first weekend in shock and depression that for the first time in my life i had been let go from a job. been told my services were no longer needed. the last thing remaining from my "old" life of marriedom... i got to my feet determined to kick some job finding butt. and one thing stood in the way... a laptop cord that had a unrepairable short that caused it to REFUSE to work. i could jiggle. i could hold. i could do a little dance and pray and beg for it work... and it would not. it might as well been snapped in half. this little problem was discovered while i was still in Arkansas and trying to be proactive and on top of things ordered a new one over the net with "free shipping". if only they said... it's free but it will take an ungodly amount of time for us to get it to you because we send it around the world on a vacation before you get it. but they didn't. and it took over a week and a half to get the cord. a week and a half in which i was empowered to find a new job, with no ACTUAL way to search for one since my only means of technology only has a two hour battery time that had run out days before. not to mention, my little laptop friend holds all my top secret files... like my resume and my super duper cover letter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;so i tried to be resourceful and go to the library... but you can do very little in one hour increments. but i do now have an ypsi library card (go me!). i also successfully and quite humbly applied for unemployment. i thought i was not eligible... apparently i was wrong. this was good news as it will give me a little more time to find a job and not lose the roof over my head.  so with the job stuff on temporary hold since i didn't actually have access to my resume, i spent this week to finally put my apartment together. i hung pictures. i went through my files and filed. i organized. i threw out 6 boxes of crap. i painted a table (which turned out great i might say) and i changed my address with the post office. i simply worked my butt off around the apartment.  and then... i got sick. the cord did come the beginning of last week, but too sick to ACTUALLY use it. so. that brings us up to date. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;so with any luck... i will stay well. who knows, i seem to be sick a lot and i'm pretty sure that even if this "spell" is over. i need to take actions to get to a doctor.  this is not my forte. not a big doctor person. but i think it's time this changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-2932039348670423558?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/2932039348670423558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=2932039348670423558' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2932039348670423558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/2932039348670423558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/08/kicked-when-down.html' title='kicked when down'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-8237698548966365199</id><published>2008-08-06T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T10:21:55.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hell in a hand basket</title><content type='html'>so friday seems like it can not come fast enough. here i am in arkansas... just trying to squeak in the last bit of work before i am most officially gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on top of it all, my laptop cord has a short in it that is completely unfixable with electric tape or the fix-any-problem duct tape and thus i have had to order a new one... sent to home in Michigan. which means that my resume and all things on my laptop are not accessible until i get home. which means, hunting for a job this week is out of the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all, i am in good spirits today. somehow we decided to have a pot luck here in the office for lunch today. i like to think of it the "we're all going to hell in a hand basket... might as well, be fat" luncheon.  so i better go get my food because if i here one more hick say in deep southern ozark slang "c'me on erica!" i might get violent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-8237698548966365199?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/8237698548966365199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=8237698548966365199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8237698548966365199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/8237698548966365199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/08/hell-in-hand-basket.html' title='hell in a hand basket'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-5262592003743340769</id><published>2008-08-04T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T09:43:11.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink Slips</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000099;"&gt;I just received the official word. as of friday, i have no work. i am told to check back to see "just in case there is something" in a week or so. but i know there won't be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000099;"&gt;so here is to joblessness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-5262592003743340769?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/5262592003743340769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=5262592003743340769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5262592003743340769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5262592003743340769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/08/pink-slips.html' title='Pink Slips'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4077741946147198932</id><published>2008-08-02T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T08:10:53.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What goes Up must come Down</title><content type='html'>This week on the job scene has been an interesting one to say the least. And everything pretty came to a head at about 4 o'clock central time on Friday (yesterday). The basic version is that the client we work for in Arkansas has complained about expenses and wants us to cut back  on that in whole. Rumor has it they have an auditor fine tooth combing everything we have done and do. In response to this, many of the people who work out of the state of Arkansas and have work shipped to them are being told there is no longer any work for them on this project. When you are an independent contractor this is the polite language one uses to say you are "laid off".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told i was safe. How much stock i held in that, was not much, but knew all i could do was sit back and ride what there is to ride. However, the client this week began stopping work that was in progress. Twice this week, in the middle of working, i was told to stop immediately what i was doing and box it up. It would not be needed. And it is not just me that was stopped but at least 5 other examiners, as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then i began helping the office manager assessing what work there was to do. and what people needed work. After doing this, the resounding conclusion was... all work that was still approved to do at this point, was in a county i am unable to work in from Detroit. No one has looked at me and said... we have no work for you. but i'm a smart cookie. when i leave from here on friday, aside from a miracle... i will be told "there is no work for me".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our company does work in multiple states and there are other projects i could go to. Mostly the one that seems to have openings is in Pennsylvania. However, i would more than likely be asked to move there. I do not want to move Pennsylvania. I do not want to move anywhere. I want to be Detroit with my friends and my amazing boyfriend. and thus, clear as mud... come friday... i have no work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if anyone knows of jobs opening in the detroit area... please, please, please give me a heads up. i am very discouraged about the prospect of finding another job. I looked and looked several months ago and i couldn't seem to even get an interview. Which is frustrating, because i am a good worker and loyal and dedicated. I'm a smart cookie and i can handle a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today is going to be filled with balancing the checkbook and going over the budget to see how small of an amount of money i can manage to get by on. and of course, looking online at job postings. i hate. hate. hate. applying for jobs online on stupid applications. it seems all the rage and they only make me go into a rage. but i guess it is what i have to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4077741946147198932?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4077741946147198932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4077741946147198932' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4077741946147198932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4077741946147198932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-goes-up-must-come-down.html' title='What goes Up must come Down'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-3303015500759707009</id><published>2008-07-31T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T20:04:11.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spontaneous Swimming</title><content type='html'>yesterday a couple of co-workers and i went out on Greers Ferry Lake. I thought it was going to be just a short little boat ride around the lake and then call it good. It was already a quarter after 7 and so how late could we really be gone anyways?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well... we went out a little ways on the lake. and just let the boat sit... and we sat and talked about the adventures of the day (and there have been many adventures). and then with the heat wave, etc.... swimming commenced. and it seemed once we started, we just didn't stop. we swam or tread water or floated for almost 3 hours in the lake. talking. listening to the radio. and just relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the sun went down and the stars began to come out and off in the distance over a mountain a lightening storm commenced. and so we drifted along in the water watching the scenery. it was amazingly lovely and mostly relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do think i might have wore myself out a bit as i went directly to bed without showering, washing my face, or even taking my damp clothes off. but i woke up with no tension... at least until i got to work this morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-3303015500759707009?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/3303015500759707009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=3303015500759707009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3303015500759707009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3303015500759707009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/07/spontaneous-swimming.html' title='Spontaneous Swimming'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-3885694677179054249</id><published>2008-07-29T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T06:32:34.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My alone time - Sacrificed</title><content type='html'>so upon getting to work and attempting to get a hotel for the rest of my stay, i find out there is a room available but there is nothing in town for the last night. so the office manager lets me stay in her spare 'oom last night. which is cool we cooked out and another co-worker popped over who is from Brighton. and it was lovely. however, both insist. INSIST. that i stay up there and "live" a little while i am here and not work so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had originally planned for this two weeks to be a time of contemplation, reflection, and questioning. searching for answers to what i realized in the last week is a lot of questions about my world views that i just didn't know about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now, with the insistence that i stay up where everyone lives and stays... how do i say. that is lovely, but i'm soul searching in my free time. *sigh* trust me. it doesn't work so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to say the least i am a bit bummed. but i think i will have to find ways to have time alone and think and read regardless. perhaps if i get up early and go to bed early... i can read and have those moments of thought and contemplation. it will make it more difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have been pondering about sacrifice the last several days. what does it mean? what place should it take in your life? what does it look like? how do you know if it's too much? too little? i tend to be a bit on the masochistic side of life. i take pain well. and can suck up just about anything. and so sacrifice tends to be something comfortable for me... but i am realizing. questioning. where the balance lies.  there will be more on this to come. but a little insight into some of the things i'm pondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-3885694677179054249?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/3885694677179054249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=3885694677179054249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3885694677179054249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3885694677179054249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-alone-time-sacrificed.html' title='My alone time - Sacrificed'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-3961512407189109531</id><published>2008-07-27T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T20:10:10.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Third Times a Charm</title><content type='html'>and yet again i am *gasp* in arkansas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is my third trip this summer. this time it's only been two weeks since my last trip. two weeks to settle into the new apartment. needless to say - not much settling happening. but i am taking deep breathes and taking it for what it is. nothing i can do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i do have too say i am riding one lucky wave of rental cars. I always, always, always shop every rental car place for the cheapest rates and always choose the economy car... i figure i own a Chevy Aveo... why not rent one? and thus far, i have gotten nothing but lucky. on the first trip i was upgraded to a Saturn Vue. Even the boss, was jealous. The second trip, a Volkswagon Rabbit... i was rocking it, i'm telling you. And this time, i kid you not... she looks for the keys to the pathetic little Aveo... and says.. "oh, no cars... do you mind the convertible p.t. cruiser?"... hmmm... let me think about this. My work pays the gas, since it's a work trip. I rented the cheapest car i could and you don't have one. and i could spend two weeks tooling around the ozarks with the wind blowing through my hair....  it was a hard choice. let me tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am beyond amused at my luck. i smiled all the way to the hotel. this time since my flight was late. (i hate southwest). i just snagged a room outside of little rock. i will drive the rest of the way in the morning. (it's an hour and half drive easy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week has been a crazy week. read CRAZY WEEK. perhaps blogging for another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-3961512407189109531?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/3961512407189109531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=3961512407189109531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3961512407189109531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/3961512407189109531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/07/third-times-charm.html' title='Third Times a Charm'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-4884509876708261407</id><published>2008-07-22T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T06:48:22.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Times they are a-changing</title><content type='html'>a year ago... almost to the day, i moved out of my "marital room" and into the "spare -oom" (go ahead, hear the narnia lingo in your head). it was at that moment, i became, somewhat, homeless. no longer living in a home that i had created with my husband, but instead sleeping on a HORRIBLE futon mattress on the floor of the room where arts and crafts normally took place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there, i moved in with a sweet and adorable cousin of sean's and stayed in her "spare -oom" with only a few things of my own that i needed on a daily basis. and then about 3 months later, moved to Detroit where my gracious soon-to-be-ex-sister-in-law, allowed me to stay through winter while i tried to get my feet back under me. Everything i owned packed in boxes in her basement with the exception of the clothes i needed and a few girly lotions and a picture of my precious little niece. As Winter began to dwindle, i moved once again to stay with a friend downriver till i could secure a place of my own - in what i hoped would be - 2 months. i flew to arkansas for work in that time and all along yearned for a place to call home. all of my previous stays, were indeed homey and i most certainly couldn't have made it this far without them. but there is something to be said for having a little piece of earth, even if rented, that you can say "mine" to. that you can decorate. where you can let your hair down in a way you can't anywhere else. there is just something to be said for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and alas, i have secured such a place... finally. a little apartment surrounded by trees and parks and a lake, in ypsi. Unfortunately, i found such a little jem the week before i was to leave for Arkansas for two weeks... so the extent of "moving in" was my couch, bench, and a chaise lounge before i left for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then upon my return, i found out i would be leaving again for Arkansas in two weeks. less than one week from today. so that means two weeks to move. two weeks to get my life into some kind of order before i jet off to the ozarks to be all consumed by work. and this same two weeks, has overlapped the two weeks that my dear friends husband has been gone with the national guard for training. which is wonderful. but he leaves behind 6 children, ages - 12, 11, 10 ,9 and twin 7 month old babies. THAT in a nutshell... overwhelming and yet... each child has there own issues, it's a blended family of the most extreme modern blended family and one of the child has possibly autism. uncaught till now. so these two weeks have been taken over with helping out a friend. which i love doing. but i don't think work really cares.... i wonder if i spun it that really... i was helping the country. because it's stepping up to assist in the absence of a man that is training to help the country... i wonder if that would work??? it's a thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my life. in a nutshell, is spinning. helping national guard widows, keeping up with work, unpacking boxes, finding and purchasing needed things like - plates (more poor dog is STILL eating dinner out of box lid) and somehow finding time to spend with my darling thomas. it's a lot. but i have faith that this is just a season of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but looking back to where i started a year ago... i've come a long way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-4884509876708261407?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/4884509876708261407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=4884509876708261407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4884509876708261407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/4884509876708261407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/07/times-they-are-changing.html' title='The Times they are a-changing'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416343764910280492.post-5338814732679227751</id><published>2008-07-06T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T20:00:48.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a new beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;well, it is a new blog.&lt;br /&gt;in view of the changes in my life. in my company now monitoring myspaces and the like. and that perhaps i have grown up beyond "livejournal". i have started this new lovely blog. what i am thinking of as "the grown-up blog". a place to put out into the greater wide (web) world my thoughts, my life, and of course... random rants that burst forth in moments of frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had much to say as i drove from sherman to little rock, plotting funny and witty posts. thought provoking and contemplative. and now. exhausted from the weekend of family. the stress of my grandfather being ill. a flat tire in texarkana. this will have to do for the 1st post. perhaps the next will encompass all of those things... and maybe even a picture....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1416343764910280492-5338814732679227751?l=texaskanga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/feeds/5338814732679227751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1416343764910280492&amp;postID=5338814732679227751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5338814732679227751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1416343764910280492/posts/default/5338814732679227751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://texaskanga.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-beginning.html' title='a new beginning'/><author><name>TexasKanga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03563762111638744062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3QEy30TXH1M/SP_UnY2zWWI/AAAAAAAAACo/ouurbsaGCfY/S220/erica+3+small.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
