tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18153139419872721672024-03-13T07:32:37.320-04:00How to....This is a blog to let me have a chance to share some on my crazier life experiences and get to play out my fantasies of being a stand-up comedian.ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-13654389514839346392018-06-25T20:40:00.002-04:002018-06-25T20:40:21.645-04:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />Our living nightmare</h2>
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No pretty images, or snarky remarks, just an update. </h3>
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If you are reading this, thanks, and sorry that this will lack the humor of my previous posts. Following the completion of my marathon, I was accepted to VCU for a PhD in Education. I only mention that to explain my absence from this platform and apologize for how long it has been. Over the course of my PhD my life changed a lot. I got divorced, because my husband at the time just did not share the same vision for our future and the future of our family. I met the love of my life, the geek I had always hoped for, and we were married in one of my favorite places, the Stargate convention. And, just days after I defended my proposal, while my entire family was celebrating in Disneyworld and getting ready for Christmas, own home burned to the ground. </div>
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We lost everything, including our rescue tortoises, cats, lizards, guinea pigs, ferrets, rats and my beloved dog Gaia, my best friend and companion for a decade. </div>
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It's still hard to type that, as I still wake up every day hoping that it was all just a bad dream and it is over. </div>
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I don't remember much of the aftermath. I remember being at the O'hana breakfast and getting the call from the Fire Marshall and falling to the floor of the Polynesian Hotel. I remember being numb the train ride home. I remember the firefighters and my husband pulling me from the ground as I sobbed into the ashes of my home. And, more than anything, I remember the outpouring of love from my friends and family. Meals, gift cards, things for the kids. It was completely amazing. </div>
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So, moving forward we hit our first hiccup. My ex, money-hungry as he and his family have always been, saw my insurance payments as an opportunity to cash out. Planning to rebuild was halted, as I had to spend over $1500 of our meager savings to fight my ex to not force me to sell the land, the only place my children had ever known as a home, and instead allow me to buy him out. It took a number of legal calls, etc. but in the end, I owned the land with the destroyed house outright, and my ex was off of the land and house that I, AND I ALONE, had worked so hard to get. </div>
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Finally, finally, we were free and clear to start. We found a plan that we loved as a family, and with a little tweaking would meet the guidelines as set forth with the insurance company (comparable size). We went with a builder, ACB Construction, who has worked with my mom (who is a realtor). He was very excited by our modern plans and industrial concept and assured us that we would be in by this summer to celebrate. </div>
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Rain delayed the start of the build but finally (and I mean finally, because for some reason nothing could get done for a few weeks even after the rains stopped) we got started. From the very beginning there were problems (the lender, for one, was strongly recommended by the builder, was a commercial lender and not a residential one, and this caused a number of delays as he did not know how to set-up a residential construction loan...) but we had a contract and to break the contract would cost us $40,000...</div>
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So we persevered. We stayed on top of the contractor who continued to not give us items promised us on the contract: <span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Draw Schedule? Nope. Selection Sheets? Allowances? Nope Nope NOPE. He grew angrier every time we found an error (incorrect showers installed, light fixtures in the wrong place, lack of insulation in specified areas). He even tried to convince us that we needed roof that cost an additional $7800, and tried to get us to agree to "help him with the cost" without a change order (a legal requirement in our state). The straw that broke the camel's back was our siding, what we had been promised would be Hardie Plank siding, was instead Hardie Board (the flat board used UNDER flooring) was used, with NO texture and the builder planning to just paint over it. My husband was LIVID and could not believe that was the siding. We met the builder, and talked out our issues, and everything seemed alright. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">So, last Friday, I ride out to the house to feed our livestock (which survived the blaze). I discover that the contractor has not only done NONE of the things we requested, but I found the sheetrock crew in the house, rocking over things that should have been insulated. We called the builder, and on a Friday, he didn't answer. (He had told us that he does not work weekends, but evidently Friday is a weekend as well). We left a message, trying to explain what was happening, and for him to call us. We heard nothing for all of Friday and Saturday. Sunday rolls around and he calls. We tried to explain our position and he became enraged, screaming and yelling. The entire call became a shouting match, with the builder insulting me and my husband. Everything we said he took as a personal insult and when I asked for invoices and the documents (listed above) we were promised, he quit and hung up the phone on us. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">That was yesterday. As of today he has contacted all sub contractors to cancel all work. The shady bank does not want to work with us at all to finish, even though we are in the trim out stage. We have called an attorney, but in the meantime my children will come home from camp this week only to discover that the house they has just picked fixtures for is now in limbo. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">I'm not sure why I wrote this post. Maybe I just needed to get it out. My life is a living nightmare and I am struggling to figure out why me, and more importantly my kids, deserve this. </span></div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-22134382597556127422016-06-14T09:00:00.004-04:002016-06-14T09:00:45.686-04:00A letter to my Representative Dr. Brat,<br />
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Brianne XXXXXXX here (RMC, class of '01) and I am writing to urge you to do something, anything, to stand out against the ease in which people can obtain and use military-grade weapons in this country. I include my graduating class as I respect you outside of this office and want you to know that I am fully aware of not only how hot-button an issue this is, but that I understand the facts of the matter as they stand.<br />
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1. I realize "owning guns" is part of the 2nd amendment. I majored in History. However, this amendment, as you know, specifically calls for a "well-regulated militia." The fact that my neighbors, who DRINK while SHOOTING "legal" semi-automatic weapons at all hours of the night is proof enough that we are not well-regulating any sort of militia. In fact, the level of regulation for something that constitutionally is supposed to be regulated is astounding compared to the lengths I have to go through to drive a car, register property, get married or divorced, all of which are activities that are not created to kill. Gun, however, are created for exactly that purpose. There is only a background check, no requirement to actually prove the ability to use such a weapon and no continuing education/renewal to continue such usage (as we are required to for an automobile). It just doesn't make any sense.<br />
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2. Isolated incidents of crime such as this are typically found to be tied to mental illness, despite the rallying cries of terrorism/gun control/etc. And yet, that being the case, your party does nothing in terms of promoting better mental health care. In fact, the Republican party, the party that is supposed to represent the Christian faith, casts aside "lepers" in such a fashion that is not only disappointing, but contrary to the faith they claim to support.<br />
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3. Finally, the United States touts itself as the great "Melting Pot," the "Land of Opportunity" and a place of equality. However, rarely do I see our representatives on popular media platforms reminding people of this very fact. You don't have to like what an individual does in their personal life, but as long as it is not a violation of the law, they have a right to do it. Instead, you are letting your party be represented by reality television trash, someone who I was forced to endure my parents and my ex-husband watch on television, who called women derogatory names, uses constant hateful and racial slurs, and brags about cheating the system. This is the person who commented on this tragedy, and of course, did so in a crass uneducated manner. Where are MY representatives? If mainstream media cuts these things out, then you know what? Stop buying $400 ink pens and get a Congress cable channel and report to us yourselves. Not CSPANN, but an actual outlet where you can do what the founders intended representatives to do: report to the people. Not hide in their offices.<br />
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In understand the difficulty in what you do. I myself have been approached to run for local office here in Hanover, and have politely refused, as it is a responsibility I do not wish to bear. However, those who do must do so for the greater good and not for their own personal glory. That's why become educators after all, right? You weren't going to become wealthy and famous teaching at R-MC, no more than I will when I begin my own professor post once my doctorate is complete. Representing the people of your country should be no different.<br />
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Thank you for your time. I hope to see you around campus soon.<br />
<br />ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-32212874612067717492016-04-26T13:18:00.001-04:002016-04-26T13:19:54.300-04:00A rambling on the state of things<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Let’s be honest for a moment…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">America was founded by those seeking “fortune and glory,”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was populated by those wanting to be who they were, without persecution,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was won by those who saw the opportunity to be great, even if it took change and sacrifice,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was strengthened by creators, thinkers, challengers, those who took up the mantle to question,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And then it stopped.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because despite those seeking fortune and glory nearly ruining it all, TWICE, in ONE century, WE, the creators, thinkers, challengers, those wanting to be who we are have stopped. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’ve stopped creating. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead we copy what has been done before, calling it upcycling, rebranding, as if it is actually an original idea...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’ve stopped thinking. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead we allow others to think for us, citing religion, citing articles on social media, citing news outlets, citing friends…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’ve stopped challenging. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead we worry about who we might anger, because that’s uncomfortable and any argument any confrontation is unhealthy and toxic and that needs to end. Drug it, stop it, NO bad feelings here, let’s all live in a happy haze of never worrying about anything not being hunky dory all the time…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’ve stopped taking up the mantle. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead we pick easy causes and let ourselves get distracted by things that are non-issues and by celebrity gossip while the real problems just keep mounting…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we’ve stopped being who we are because we’re so worried about who someone else WANTS us to be…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And then it’s over, or it’s over for someone else, and we make a meme or write a eulogy and talk about missed opportunities and reflections and changes that will never be taken again only to go back and not take them ourselves. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because we won’t create, think, challenge, or do ANYTHING. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we let those who destroyed the first people to take their riches, and those who are destroying us to take ours just keep destroying. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But it’s ok. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Voice is on. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And click the red “x”. </span></div>
ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-77519337307328809582016-02-19T13:33:00.003-05:002016-02-19T13:39:15.816-05:00A venting...Why did I find you now?<br />
When I'm already broken, a shell, a small lonely girl hiding inside of a person she doesn't even recognize anymore.<br />
Where were you when I was the only one like me<br />
When I thought there was something wrong with me because I hated what they liked<br />
And I didn't look like them<br />
think like them<br />
feel like them<br />
want what they did<br />
When no matter what I did it wasn't good enough unless it was useful<br />
And then I was great<br />
Then I was spectacular<br />
And I'd forget about you for a while<br />
Those times when I'd stay and I'd think that it was alright to be just the littlest bit different<br />
Those times when I thought that I could help someone else who was just as alone<br />
Wait...<br />
I'm alone<br />
So alone<br />
Where are you?<br />
And now I can't leave.<br />
And so the cycle repeats.<br />
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Why did I find you now?<br />
When every night brings a new nightmare<br />
One in which all I have left just falls apart<br />
Because the only thing I have ever been able to rely on doesn't have much in her<br />
That cold face you see me get,<br />
the one with no emotion<br />
That's what remains,<br />
that zombie,<br />
that's me,<br />
there is so little left but hurt<br />
There are days when I actually don't feel anything at all and fake it<br />
Those days I hold you tighter<br />
Those days you notice<br />
And you worry, I see that worry, I see it in the boy and the girl, and I feel so helpless<br />
Because you showed up when there was really nothing left to show up for<br />
A shell...<br />
That breathes<br />
That eats<br />
Why now fate?<br />
I curse whatever kept you from me<br />
I needed you before I became this<br />
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Why did I find you now?<br />
When I don't love me anymore<br />
I used to.<br />
I used to think I could do amazing things.<br />
That I was beautiful.<br />
That I was special.<br />
That I deserved people that cared about me, that would love and support me.<br />
Now I think I was a mistake.<br />
I'm not sure how I got here, why I was put here, who screwed up and put me here but what I thought was right is not, what I thought was just is not, and what I thought was special just isn't.<br />
I cried so many nights hoping you were real, that someone like you existed and now that I know you do?<br />
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You can't be real.<br />
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I'm going to wake up, or not, this is a nightmare, not a dream, but a nightmare, and I did it, I ended it and in my final moments I have dreamed you up and you, the one I hoped for, are my last thought.<br />
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Why did I find you now?<br />
I have nothing to offer.<br />
I shouldn't have torn up that essay, but I did.<br />
I shouldn't have sent in that application, but I did.<br />
I shouldn't have said "No thank you," but I did.<br />
I shouldn't have gotten on that plane, but I did.<br />
I shouldn't have signed on that line, but I did.<br />
I shouldn't have given in to expectations...<br />
but...<br />
I...<br />
did...<br />
And now, what you have is what you see; someone trying to fill in the holes left by the shouldn'ts and the regrets.<br />
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I'm sorry.<br />
That's what the "I'm sorrys" are for, fifty a day, a night.<br />
I'm sorry that the person I was, who was supposed to be for you, that kind, beautiful, intelligent woman is gone and this is all that is left. I'm sorry I couldn't hold on to her.<br />
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I tried.<br />
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Why did I find you now?<br />
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If I didn't believe before, this? This just proves to me that nothing here or elsewhere cares about me at all, other than you.<br />
<br />ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-20612621082353724472015-12-10T12:12:00.000-05:002015-12-10T12:12:01.868-05:00How to Change...<br />
So, no fancy graphics or subtitle this time.<br />
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Instead, this short post is to bring about the waves of change. While my life is amazing and Danny and I keep a running tab of the more funny things in our lives, I need this blog to be an outlet of my other thoughts. There's been a change in the wind, a shift in the way things are, and I feel obligated to be the one person who is trying to just have some common sense because it looks like that is few and far between nowadays. We may not always agree, but I need a forum to express those thoughts and hopefully, someone will stop and think for a moment and make positive change.<br />
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Not sure what I will address first. I may start by having a guest blogger who is an expert on American History review the Constitution, as both liberal and conservatives both seem to have lost the ability to read.<br />
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I'm also considering a new name for this blog. I welcome suggestions on this as well.<br />
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Thanks for reading.<br />
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Let's see how this plays out...ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-87458374930726094522015-01-12T08:46:00.000-05:002015-01-22T12:31:30.653-05:00How to be Educated<div style="text-align: center;">
How to be Educated</div>
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Subtitle: I'm gonna try to weigh in on #FreeCommunityCollege</div>
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Today's post comes mostly at the request of friends. As a lifelong educator and now an education professor I have very strong opinions on what works mostly based on two things. </div>
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1) Empirical Research </div>
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2) WHAT I HAVE ACTUALLY SEEN FOR 15 years. </div>
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So, when Obama rolled out his proposal that the USA offer Community College free to all who would "work" for it, my friends started asking. I will admit at this point, because January is a crazy month for me, that I have not looked into it much but I plan to. There is though, one glaring problem that the president is overlooking. </div>
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No one takes Community College seriously. </div>
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Before anyone explodes, let me explain. </div>
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I love the Community College system. It's affordable as it is now, offers complete and comprehensive programs, has support systems that many four year colleges and universities lack, and training programs for students who want to learn a trade. It's staffed by competent and caring individuals that are experts in their field, who do not get the credit they deserve from their academic peers. </div>
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Ok, then, so what's the problem? </div>
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Unless you are going for a trade that has a license at the end, you can't do anything with a community college degree. Sure, I bet someone reading this blog is going to be the exception to the rule, but remember, I do education for a living, so I work with HUNDREDS of students each year, at grades K THROUGH College Senior, whether that is teaching, volunteer work, or tutoring. I also have friends at varying levels of education who come to me to ask what they should do because I know. It's like calling your buddy the mechanic if you have to buy a car. Wanna know what classes to take? Ask the lady who has made education her career. </div>
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The thing is that the Community College degree is useless unless you ARE getting that specific certificate. While the advocates claim it "transfers" to four year colleges and universities, what they don't tell you is that classes many Community College students think will count as Gen Ed requirements are called "electives" when they transfer these grades to the four year program and their GPAs do not move over. Imagine going to Community College for two years, thinking you have finished your Gen Ed requirements and only have to pay for two years at the more expensive State University only to get there and discover, nope, not everything transferred and you will have to go three more years, maybe even start over. </div>
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That's the dirty little secret that nobody tells. </div>
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But I've seen it happen over and over and over, to STRAIGHT A students majoring in DIFFICULT subjects. </div>
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Furthermore, as our still weak economy is recovering, many of my friends, family members and neighbors have lost their jobs due to the typical economic issues: downsizing, closures, etc. They rush home to retool resumes and there has been one pattern that I have witnessed as consistent among their successes in finding new jobs. </div>
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Those with 4 year degrees or higher = find a job, and usually a comparable one. </div>
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Those with 2 year (Community College degrees) = don't. </div>
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Or, if they do, they take a pay cut or are putting themselves into a risky position that may result in another job hunt a few months later. </div>
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Is it fair? HELL NO. But that's what is actually happening in the trenches, in the real world, to real people I interact with on a daily basis. </div>
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So, I laud the president for making education more accessible because I myself was a student who could not afford an education. Fortunately, I had the grades and the drive to make it happen regardless, but I don't think killing oneself for simply the right to earn a degree is what a first world nation should have as the norm. </div>
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Instead, I propose the following: </div>
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Use some of that money to:</div>
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a) Raise the salary of a K12 teacher to attract more individuals to the profession. And make sure that is salary to veterans, not just to entice new teachers. Many new teachers come for the idealism, but once they realize it is VERY difficult to raise a family on the meager cost of living increases, great teachers leave the profession. </div>
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b) Offer this free college education to more than students at Community College. Maybe start partnering with business to get a program that offers this education at 4 year universities. Personally, two years at a Community College would have done me NO GOOD, in fact, it would have extended my college career to longer than it needed to be. </div>
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c) Put money into online education. The world is mobile. People have to move for work, sometimes out of the country. Online learning, when done correctly and structured based on peer-reviewed empirical research has been proven to work, time and time again. </div>
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Then again, maybe this program could help with the poor image that Community College has, as it should. It's a great program that deserves better. </div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1United States33.7243396617476 -76.6406258.2023051617476 -117.949219 59.246374161747596 -35.332031tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-48969885188223724612014-10-13T13:24:00.001-04:002014-10-13T13:24:35.582-04:00How to Understand The Walking Dead <div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">How to Understand The Walking Dead</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Subtitle: This is the best show on TV. Hand's down.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Because it's about us.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A day late, but thanks to the marvels of DVR technology, I was able to watch the season premiere this morning over breakfast. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Oh. My. Athena. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Warning: Spoilers, so just stop reading now if you don't wanna be spoiled. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">To recap, briefly, we left our band of heroes last season in a train car, prisoners to a colony of cannibals, presumably to be eaten. Rick declared as the season closed that "They don't know who they're messing with," and they don't, I mean, how did those poor innocent cannibals know that they were imprisoning the series leads? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">*snicker* </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, we open with Rick, Daryl, Glen and Bob getting reading to be "put down" ala cattle and be strung up for eatin'. We watch this happen to four other men, graphically, when an explosion sounds, right about the time Glen is gonna be slugged in the head with a bat (Lucille anyone?) for a second time, bammo!! explosion and we flash to Carol and Tyrese. Some talking and Carol badassery later we determine that Carol, single handedly, has caused the explosion and allowed her friends times to escape. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was bea - YOU - ti - ful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So let's get through the popular things first. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">1. Carol + Daryl: I don't "ship", in fact I QUIT shows that become all about "shipping", but this is just SHEER perfection. I could go into the reasons why, but that would be another blog. ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">2. Baby Judith and Grimes Family Reunion: How to make Rick human again in SECONDS...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">3. MORGAN!!!! (If you are lost, please rewatch season 1) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But there is something hidden, a quick line spoken in an action packed scene, a line that is essentially the ENTIRE reason we watch the show, cry for the characters and cheered as they were all reunited last night: </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"But that's who we still are."</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This line, spoken by Glen as Rick started to escape, leaving the others in train cars to their fate, is the reason, really, even if we don't realize, that we all keep watching. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Who ARE they still? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The good guys. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We've seen people in the show turn to murder, rape, cannibalism, looting, torture and if the comics are any indication as to what is coming who knows?? But despite EVERYTHING that has happened to them, everything, they are STILL the ones trying to hold on to some semblance of morality. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And, I think this will be the theme of this season. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Think about the dialog between Tyrese and the one cannibal. Tyrese has been struggling for a while, he's not a killer, he's a GOOD man, and this episode really called on him to question what was right and was what wrong. Think about what the cannibal leader said to Carol as she was pleading for her life; that they WERE the good guys once and lost their way. Think about Rick wanting to exterminate all of the cannibals, the group's insistence that they just leave, and what happened as a result. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The thing about this show that makes me tune in week to week and scream and yell isn't the action or the love. It's the fact that using the backdrop of zombies, which at first might seem silly, the writer's of The Walking Dead are asking us to question right and wrong, week in and week out. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who decides who lives and dies? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who has that right?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">What IS family? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who can you trust? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And so on. Laugh at me for taking this out of a zombie show, but the things you are asked to think about as a viewer of The Walking Dead are FAR more complex than ANYTHING on "reality" TV.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">FAR MORE. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And the feeling afterwards, of excitement, emptiness and confusion are all there to make you question your own morality and when all of the odds are stacked against you, what would be your choice? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292f33; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;">That being said, BRAVO actors, writers, directors of The Walking Dead and I cannot WAIT until next week!! </span></span></div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-5722502293288100172014-10-06T07:59:00.002-04:002014-10-06T07:59:46.701-04:00How to Be Fair <br />
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<b>How to Be Fair</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: How come only trends in Halloween are ok? </i></div>
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<i>What about the other kids??</i></div>
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My kids wanna be 10 and Rose for Halloween. </div>
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I might as well have told some people they wanted to dress as Nazis....</div>
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And then I see on the news blogger after blogger defending a little boy's right to dress up in a girl's costume for Halloween and EVERYONE is on that bandwagon. </div>
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I am too, little guy should wear whatever the heck he wants, but so should MY kids, even though it's not trendy enough to go viral. </div>
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In case you have NO idea who I'm talking about, 10 means the 10th Doctor from Dr. Who, played by the amazing David Tennant and Rose Tyler, his companion, played by Billie Piper. It's a British show, and yes, my two rural-living American kids watch British TV. </div>
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And that's ok. </div>
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You see, my kids aren't fussed with Frozen. They liked it, sure, but after it was over they shrugged their shoulders and went about their business. I'm not "hating" on Frozen (because since it is playing well with mommies GOD FORBID) but it was just ok. My kids don't sing the songs, didn't go to the ice show like every other kid in their school and haven't even asked me to buy the Blu-Ray. </div>
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My kids don't really care for team sports. They don't play them and they don't watch them. They like Minecraft, but they also like to play outside and don't come in running and sobbing and hating the outdoors over a skinned knee. They watch 1980s movies, take hip-hop dance, yoga, prefer museums to parks. They talk about what they wanna be when they grow up (which for my son has been the same for 7 years now), they talk about where they wanna go to college (that needs to be another blog, god forbid my kids like to learn) and they love to go to local community theatre. </div>
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They're kids, just not the kids that society wants. </div>
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They're different, and different is only a "good" thing when it's the kind of different that's in style. I could list the "in style" differences here, but I won't as to not offend anyone, and there are probably a lot of you nodding right now and thinking yeah I've noticed that too...</div>
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And I think that's what's wrong with our society as a whole. It's now "in style" to embrace different IF we are OK with that brand of different OR it has a celebrity/company to back it. Outside of that, you're on your own. </div>
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Why can't people just like what they like and be left alone?</div>
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Be who you are? </div>
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And it's not even an issue of having the strength to be yourself, it's the NON-STOP comments and harassment of those people who just can't wrap their heads around it. Yes, see that word, HARASSMENT. </div>
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THAT ought to gets someone attention. </div>
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Just because OUR kind of different isn't yours and isn't popular doesn't make any less valid.</div>
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It just makes it different. </div>
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I will close today with practice dialog, for those of you who may encounter someone NOT doing what everyone else does, in particular, a kid dressing as something for Halloween that's NOT all over the news/TV/social media. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>"Child X, so what are you dressing up as for Halloween?"</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>"The Tenth Doctor." </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>"Cool (<---- very important word there, this kid made a CHOICE and THOUGHT about this, acknowledge it!!), who's that?" </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>"From Dr. Who. It's a TV show. He travels through Space and Time helping people." </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>"Awesome, sounds like a great show (<---- EVEN if YOU don't like space & time show, THEY ARE A KID!!! LIE!!). I can't wait to see it (or pictures)" </i></div>
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See? Now how hard was that? </div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-30049697084597123772014-08-11T08:01:00.002-04:002014-08-11T08:02:47.815-04:00How to Look Back <div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">How to Look Back</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Subtitle: Ok, look, just bear with me on the serious for a moment. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm dragging myself out of bed this morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My "summer" is over, and it's back to work, students, classes, and real responsibilities. There only remains one more thing to attend and that's Stargate Con, the last one ever and will probably be my last con ever, or at least the last one I try so hard to get to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two years ago I was packing, getting a rental car, sitting in my office staring at ONE ticket for ONE photo op, my heart racing. See, I've never really understood the celebrity thing, they're just people that chose a different career path. They wanted to be actors like I wanted to be an educator and I appreciate their passion and the fact they share their art with us because I sure as hell need a break at the end of the day, in love with my job or not. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yet here I was, staring at a photo op for Michael Shanks. Nope, he's not Alexander Skarsgard, or whoever the heck else you people wanted to play that bondage dude in that dirty Twilight fanfic movie. He's just a regular old person who happened to play my favorite fictional character of all time. Many of my readers already know that after beginning my teaching career I suffered some set-backs, the greatest of which was serious depression, and that for some strange reason Daniel Jackson was the thing that got me out of that funk. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, I went, jumped into that poor man's arms and hugged the shit out of him. He just smiled and laughed it off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's two years later. In that time since I first turned on that show, bored, unable to sleep and trying to distract myself from the horrible thoughts running through my head, my life continues to push forward. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got myself back to the physical fitness level of my high school martial arts fighting days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have soared at work, from part-time teacher to full-time teacher and curriculum consultant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I ran a marathon and I will run another this fall. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got into a Tier 1 PhD program in Education and am kicking its ass. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have been asked to adjunct professor at my Alma Mater. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was made president of the PTA at my children's school. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My life has changed, and in part, I have a fictional archaeologist to thank for it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This weekend I will go to Stargate con. I will go and talk about my "Fan Fic" because yep, I wrote a fan fic, NOT to have creepy Stargate porn but because Daniel deserves the happy ending that I got. I gave him that in a story that will never see a screen, but in my heart I can thank him with. I will volunteer, not because I'm too poor or cheap to buy the Gold Ticket, but because I feel like I'm thanking Daniel/Shanks/Stargate MORE by volunteering to make it a better experience for people; I OWE Stargate that much and wanna do what I can to give back. I will get another damn photo op, and take another damn picture with this poor sweet man that humors me as I am NOT a super fan and know nothing of his personal life that he himself does not post on social media, yet he is kind and smiles nonetheless. I will go and see the amazing friends that I have made on this journey, and we will drink margaritas and eat hot dogs and hope I don't get locked out of my rental car :P. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then it will be over. It will be the last, because really, even if they continue with the rebooted movies, that's not gonna be my Stargate and that's not gonna be my Daniel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's not gonna be who saved me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks shug, for everything. </span></div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-14346769372234069322014-07-07T14:17:00.000-04:002014-07-07T14:18:19.919-04:00How to be a Teacher<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">How to be a Teacher</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Subtitle: My response to "The Tough Decision to Leave the Classroom"</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">DISCLAIMER: I am usually VERY careful to not offend anyone in my postings because I am a VERY accepting person and really only get truly incensed when what YOU do causes HARM to someone else. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">This post will probably offend some, so sorry, that, as always, is never the intention.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All I have ever wanted to do was to be a teacher. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">EVER. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I remember a small stint in 8th grade where someone told me that a teacher wasn't a good job and I should be a vet (that little phase lasted about as long as it took for me to see ONE surgery, ew, gross) and some survey given to me by a guidance counselor in 9th grade that recommended I be a dentist (My OWN teeth gross me out, so...how does that work?). In the end, as my mother predicted, there I was, standing at the front of the classroom, at 20 years old with a sea of faces not much younger than I waiting for me to impart my wisdom.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Yep, 20.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That happened, and it was utterly terrifying.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here I am, 13 years later, embarking on my PhD in education so that I may become a professor of Education and teach the next generation of teachers how to navigate what I feel is the greatest thing that I have EVER done, second only to being a mother.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So when fellow teacher Josh Waldron posted his "Tough Decision to Leave the Classroom" that went viral on my social media pages, I was incensed for lack of a better word. All I could think was, congrats on your awards, you should be very proud, but if that's why you're leaving, then maybe it's for the best that you do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Never, ever, have I subscribed to the idea that my job would be easy, but moreover, that it would be fair. All other talking points aside, my job, in a nutshell, is to instruct, in a subject area, to state and national standards, one or more content areas in which I may or may not have received the proper instruction myself for what the current standards say and thereby need to make sure I know what I'm talking about before I present it to children, communicate with parents, administrators, counselors and community leaders, be a role model, be a shoulder to cry on, while filling out an insane amount of paperwork that has no point whatsoever in the grand scheme of education.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, that was intended to be a run-on sentence.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You get the idea, though, that I knew going in this was going to be the hardest thing I ever did and I had to love it like nothing else to make it my life's work.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">With that in mind, and all due respect to the hard work of the blog's author, I think someone didn't inform you what you were getting in to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This is my response, point by point to your public resignation. I hope that people reading this entry will realize how wonderful a profession it is and how it's all in what you make it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">1. Use the Hoops.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Every job you will EVER have has hoops. EVERY job. My friends works in finance, real estate, administration, pharmaceuticals, veterinary medicine, you name it, I've got someone in my life that works it. They all have to sit through meetings with tag lines like "21st Century Learner" and "Power" this, that and the other. ALL of them, and to be honest, some in a way that I will never understand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's not going away, it's been a part of education SINCE the dawn of public education, so why not USE it to our advantage instead of complain about it? I'm also a Girl Scout leader and we get the SAME little "hoops" for our volunteer organization, so education is not alone in this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What do I do?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I lay it out to the kids, yep, even my 7 year old Girl Scouts. Children are BRILLIANT creatures and by explaining to them at a young age that things like this are part of adulthood you can work together to USE these ideas, tools, or "hoops" to help you. When I taught for Hanover Schools the CLC program was very popular, but World Language teachers were never trained in how to use it for World Language. So, I just made a few copies, gave them out to my AP/IB Spanish students and ASKED for help. The things these brilliant children came up with are things that to THIS DAY I use in my current position.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That, my friends, is 21st Century Learning :)</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">2. Realize that you can plan all you want, but that never works with a field like this.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'd like to clarify that I'm not saying don't plan. Waldron in particular cites the economic downturn and how plans were not made for what to do when there no longer needed to be slashing. Problem is, as someone who now has access to what is going on on the administrative side of things, that is far easier said than done, and despite what news media outlets are reporting, spend a day in the General Assembly of Virginia.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We're not out of the economic mess by a long shot.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">What needs to happen is instead of pitting teachers against policy makers, there needs to be a way for people to work together rather than point fingers, but really, isn't that what the WORLD needs to start doing in general?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's not a reason to leave teaching, if anything, that seems to be a reason to leave civil society.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As far as the bleachers go, I'll speak to sports in a minute.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">3. If a teacher is a good teacher, assessments don't really matter. </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't scream at me teachers because you need to see where I'm going with this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">YOU are awesome. You just are, period. Yes, the SOLs are the thing in VA, as is Common Core, etc. in other places. You hear about it, hear about it, and is it going away?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Nope.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Just like inventory managers will always have a quota system to deal with loss, or a doctor has to meet standards of insurance companies, there will always be a new and better standard that someone had to meet and we are just another part of it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Will the pendulum swing back? Yep, it will. Already, here in Virginia, the General Assembly is cutting back on the number of SOL tests and the College Board is restructuring the SATs again. AP (College Board) has already seen the benefit of the more "prove what you know" approach to learning that the IB (International Baccalaureate) program uses. While there is still testing, it is changing, researchers are being heard and while it is not fast change (but really what is?) change IS coming, and for the better.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ok, so what about those darn SOLs and the tests for the "average" child?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm gonna brag on Beaverdam Elementary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">At Beaverdam, you would never know that SOL tests are the end-all-be-all that media has made it. The students take the tests and year after year BLAST them out of the water. Beaverdam is NOT a high socio-economnic school, it's rural, with probably more students at the lower end of the income scale then at the higher end. The building is well over 50 years old and teachers are expected to "do more with less" as is the mantra of the school system.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, what's their secret????</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Their teachers are AWESOME. Each and every teacher in that building has a love for children and for learning that IS the definition of education. Their principal meets EVERY child as they walk into the school to shake their hand and greet them good morning, EVERY child, EVERY day and the moment you walk through those doors you KNOW that THIS is an environment for learning. Sure, there are probably tears shed over the SOLs but no more than getting into (or not making it into) the Talent Show or a skinned knee on the playground. What is on those tests isn't taught where teachers are spoon-feeding trivia questions even though the standards themselves can be read like that. It's part of learning, part of the bigger picture and teachers TAKE the time to make those connections.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That's what makes the students of BES BLOW the SOLs out of the water, good teachers, plain and simple.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">To be honest, though, it's good for children to learn these skills. We as educators moan about SOLs and the like all of the time, but we have to take Praxis I, Praxis II at the very least to get our license. Part of being an adult is being tested, and, like the hoops, we can USE this as an opportunity to create yet another teachable experience.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">4. Realize the parents DO support us, but just need our guidance as to what we need. </span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ok, let's tackle that sports issue.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Fact: The average American understands Football.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Fact: The average American is TERRIFIED of looking stupid.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, when I was a younger and less experienced teacher, and not a parent, I too lamented the numbers of parents that showed up for a football game versus the number that came to parent teacher conferences.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then, I realized a few things...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">#1: People get football. You can understand sports and it's an easy way to connect with your child AT the school level. What people may not get is Algebra, Chemistry or Spanish. For those of you who are parents, do you remember the first time your kid proved you wrong? Do you remember how that felt? Parents today WANT to help, but the more and more I talk to them they are at a complete and total loss as to HOW they can help. Remember, I teach Spanish, and that's something that many of the parents of my students have no background in whatsoever. I'll never forget talking to one parent over the phone while they were on their computer, walking them through how to use Quia.com to help their child.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They CRIED.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then they told me how they WANT to help but Education has changed so much that they feel completely lost and stupid.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">THIS is where we as teachers need to refocus our energy when it comes to community. The community is THERE, they will wave banners at Spelling Bees just as fervently as they do at Football games if we tell them WHAT we need them to do and make sure they DON'T feel stupid or ill-informed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">#2: Football games are at 7 p.m. on Fridays, yet we schedule Parent-Teacher conferences for the middle of the work day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let that sink in for a second.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We want parents to be involved in non-athletic affairs just we put all things academic when they're working. Remember discussing the down-turn? People have to work, that's a fact of life. Instead of whining about community involvement, let's make academic events not only more accessible to parents, but inform them of when they are happening well in advance. I'll give it to football coaches and athletic conferences, you know the next's season's events BEFORE the first season has ended.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Why aren't we doing that with the Parent Coffees?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, and just throwing out there, but with the focus on social media, I find a Facebook page to be VERY effective.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I told you all that I run a Girl Scout troop. I have 100% parental involvement. 100%. All I have done is make sure they are a) educated in the information and b) are informed of dates and times in advance (via a simple Facebook page and email distribution list).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes we just need to step back and ask WHY something is happening.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">5. While I wish that teachers were fairly compensated, if you thought for a moment that we were you were grossly misinformed, and for that I am sorry. </span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I knew going into this that I would make FAR less money than my peers from college and would never be able to own the finer things in life. I'm not going to discuss my personal financials but I will say that the hardships that the author of the article endures (i.e. home, growing his own food, working multiple jobs) are ones that I have never had to deal with. I say this noting that my husband was a stay at home parent and I was the sole source of income, for years, as a teacher. I have a modest house on a nice sized piece of land and I took my entire family to England last year for vacation. I do not teach for a wealthy district, in fact, based on the salary scale it looks like one might even make a little more money teaching in Waynesboro.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That being said, it's what you make of it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Even if I had to do those extra things, I'd rather do that and keep teaching than I would EVER want to step foot in an office of any type. I'd rather have to make dinner at home than ever stop hearing a student tell me about their weekend. Of course I would want more money, who doesn't, but just think of how MANY students we have and how MANY teachers must be employed to serve them and there is a point where we must consider HOW much money and manpower the system takes.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The wisest thing I have heard in a LONG time came from my friend Jay on a recent visit to Canada. We were sitting around the table, discussing the socialization of medicine in Canada and the pros and cons of such a system in America. America gets bashed for a lot of things, it seems to be quite popular to do so, even by Americans, but before the conversation could go too far Jay calmly spoke up and said:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"Don't forget, Canada DOES have free healthcare for 35 million people. The USA has 314 million people. Sometimes we all forget that."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As of 2011 the USDOE reports 50+ MILLION students in public education, more than the entire population of Canada, and half of the entire population of Mexico (just to use our neighbors as a point of reference).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I personally cannot imagine having to figure out how in the WORLD to fund that.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In closing, I will not being leaving the classroom, ever.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Right now I am in the Virtual Classroom (which STILL does the same as a brick and mortar teacher just FYI), but I still work with districts and schools on a face to face basis and I hopefully will be stepping into the College classroom soon. I have no plans of retiring, ever, nor can I even imagine a day without being a teacher. It has been the most wonderful thing that I have ever experienced in my entire life and even if all of the points made in other blogs are true, my heart will never let me leave.</span><br />
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-82801270979906203482014-06-30T08:40:00.004-04:002014-06-30T08:41:28.080-04:00How to be Cheap<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">How to be Cheap</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Subtitle: Extreme Cheapskates is giving my heart failure. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">And I grew up poor.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can't even start this with a step. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It began with the fact that dinner needs to be no later than 6:30 or my children will die of starvation and Sookie doesn't start till 9. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Obviously, we need to fill the time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now we HAD been watching The Amazing Race, but that is over, and we turned to Netflix to try to find Storage Wars (yes, yes, something else I have in common with Mr. Canadian Hot Pants). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lo and behold we find, Extreme Cheapskates. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">WHAT. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">HELL. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We're gonna start with a rant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I grew up po' (that's the step below poor). Hot dogs (and kind that you don't wanna know the ingredients to) cut up on boxed macaroni OR ramen noodles. We rented a house on the farm and the farmer brought us free veggies and meat and stuff. I learned how to cut corners in home repair, and how to double a coupon and sign up for freebies in the mail. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THAT is being cheap. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Being said, here are my simple steps to being CHEAP and NOT be GROSS. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm just gonna go down episodes...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 1</b>: Don't ask for people's food. Yes, it seems wasteful but PEOPLE are GROSS and dirty. Do not get up and ask them for their leftovers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Instead? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">DON'T EAT OUT!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One adult dinner plate at average restaurant = $15</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Eating SAME THING ABOUT HOME is usually around $4</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Trust me, Gordan Ramsey makes this a Hell's Kitchen challenge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">STAY YOUR DIRTY AZZ HOME.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 2:</b> BUY TOILET PAPER. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The average person uses about 30 rolls of toilet paper per year. Let's round on the high side. Let's say that rolls are $2each and you use 40. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's $80 a year!! A YEAR! Not a month, a year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Someone's gonna lecture me about third world, history, blah blah, but if you are reading this YOU are using the internet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome to the First World. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">BUY toilet paper. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Or at least a bidet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 3:</b> If you aren't gonna buy food for yourself, fine, but DO NOT FEED YOUR GUESTS YOUR NONSENSE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the pilot, a lady fed her neighbors' kids pizza made from expired ingredients and wild grass salad that they foraged NOT from their woods (MY kids forage berries from OUR land all the time) but a PUBLIC PARK. In the second episode the woman featured had guests over and served them food that had LITERALLY been taken OUT of the trash bag on the street. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You want us to accept YOUR lifestyle? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then accept OURS. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And that is UNSANITARY.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Again, remember my background? I KNOW how long food is good after the date, I KNOW, and what was going on in this show was NOT remotely safe or sanitary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wanna save money on food?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'd like to introduce you to coupons. You don't need to buy a paper. You can load them on store cards that are also free. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Better yet? You REALLY don't wanna pay?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I WILL MAIL YOU SEEDS. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A lot of my family STILL grow a substantial amount of their own food. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 4:</b> Buy clothes, or at least make them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is NOTHING wrong with a thrift store, nothing, I ADORE the Goodwill, or swapping with friends but clothes are organic. They wear, they fray, they can get to a point where they smell like B.O. no matter HOW many times you wash them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THEY NEED TO BE THROWN OUT. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And not even THROWN OUT, you can use them in your garden, or as cleaning rags (so you don't need to buy as many paper towels) but bragging about not buying underwear since 1998??</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'd like to reiterate, FILTHY. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 5: </b>Ok, so I could kinda get on board with the fiscal week off (not spending money for a week) because we do that every now and then, but usually out of frustration for going to the store, or really busy with work, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, dude on show goes out and forages for change because that will not break his rule and comes up with $7.50. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He declares he is going to buy meat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now...around here, a rotisserie chicken is $5.99. There is usually a meat of the week that is $2 - $3 a pound. Just looking through my local Kroger ad, I can get chicken breast for $2.49 a pound this week, STEAK for $4.99, and I think I saw lamb...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My point is, TWO, YOU and YOUR WIFE by portion control options are supposed to eat 1/4 - 1/2 pound of meat max, which means for $7.50 that you DUG out of the dryer you COULD get:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">1 pound of chicken or lamb</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1 box of Rice-a-Roni (at FULL price it's only $1.89 but it is never NOT on sale)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1 head of broccoli or bag of baby carrots</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">THAT is food.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You just bought that goat head to be cute and the butcher "giving" them to you for $7.50? My brother is in a heavy metal band. Guess how much HE pays for heads at the butcher?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">$0.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I rest my case.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 6:</b> I just can't anymore. I've turned the show off, I'm not sure if I can ever watch this again. People ate out of dumpsters and crawled through filth for change. These are NOT people that are impoverished and need financial help from the government, these are people who have jobs or are married and their spouse has a job and keep saying on the show that they don't need to do this, they choose to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And this is why I can't watch reality TV.</span><br />
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-7965675204196442852014-06-26T20:28:00.000-04:002014-06-26T20:28:19.204-04:00How to make the GREATEST HORROR PROGRAM OF ALL TIME<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">How to make the GREATEST HORROR PROGRAM OF ALL TIME</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Subtitle: Congrats WGN, because as much as I love "The Walking Dead" you win. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 1</b>: F*#k history. Seriously, because if you think 'The Crucible' turned the Salem Witch trails into a farce of historical fiction, Mr. Miller and Miss Ryder can't hold a candle to WGN's Salem. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Good guys are bad guys, bad guys are good guys and as a history teacher I just gave up trying to fix the plethora historical inaccuracies. It was like watching Troy, except without Brat Pitt running around naked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's ok, because EVERYONE ELSE DOES. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">These are the nastiest Puritans that I have ever seen...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dr. Scanlon, remember making me read that book about the Puritans not being so pure? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That book's got NOTHING on Salem :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 2:</b> Tip a hat to pop culture. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Do you remember this?? <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKTXB97Kbvs" target="_blank">Just click, you'll thank me...</a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now read THIS, from the script (can't get video, license and whatnot) </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYy7SMScN4MQqisra04TlmbQkS6kD0Kh1WTaH21Z6mZ2yKamnmcL6WUSUpl7lpCt4Wgv2a9PX7NuYwpfRRRU-WSqxbQP1ck_wWnVkJFW5FwUqsbPu6o5M_d5Xp9Y3rqz85ghERW8JPtPu/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.44.23+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYy7SMScN4MQqisra04TlmbQkS6kD0Kh1WTaH21Z6mZ2yKamnmcL6WUSUpl7lpCt4Wgv2a9PX7NuYwpfRRRU-WSqxbQP1ck_wWnVkJFW5FwUqsbPu6o5M_d5Xp9Y3rqz85ghERW8JPtPu/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.44.23+AM.png" height="272" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yea, that happened. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I rewound it about FIVE times. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm actually having to compose myself to continue to blog about this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 3</b>: Make sure to COMPLETELY destroy a religion. Okay, so this is based on the Salem witch trails, which as we all know was about the Puritans, in the name of God trying to cleanse their section of the colonies from the evils of witchcraft. One of the main characters is Cotton Mather, an actual person, who you can read about here: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cotton_Mather" target="_blank">Wikipedia, don't lecture me on .edu's right now...</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For those NOT inclined to read, here is good old Cotton: </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemTlgreXTducx4mHwIhp7t7BS7rajJ3KnTgCT9iU4QTvuw4hud1UGhnQx6aZhKA7xoDrlOlGClfvNcfdpwtXqL4K347fd1Zprbx_f8eYFpl0R-VW2ruEvEcoprUZIauM4TYV3Hrx5VV_C/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.49.10+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemTlgreXTducx4mHwIhp7t7BS7rajJ3KnTgCT9iU4QTvuw4hud1UGhnQx6aZhKA7xoDrlOlGClfvNcfdpwtXqL4K347fd1Zprbx_f8eYFpl0R-VW2ruEvEcoprUZIauM4TYV3Hrx5VV_C/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.49.10+AM.png" height="200" width="174" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwQo0hmtYhNyRCD5KTHbeaF0XHqVx2zEF8UW10pbZnwi6DA8-M2YiG9SExBbOI4rZkq4qH9VFpk0U1-j26vzeLm9ZvjOFdfIF_H84VdI-LUw4-oG1BBNP6lv7aNKyx_uXm4FrDTjjTc2V/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.52.10+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwQo0hmtYhNyRCD5KTHbeaF0XHqVx2zEF8UW10pbZnwi6DA8-M2YiG9SExBbOI4rZkq4qH9VFpk0U1-j26vzeLm9ZvjOFdfIF_H84VdI-LUw4-oG1BBNP6lv7aNKyx_uXm4FrDTjjTc2V/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.52.10+AM.png" height="121" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And here is Cotton on Salem. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Did I mention he QUOTES Revelation at the height of his, um, satisfaction??</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's another script clip, just for you...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ZN7AhV0MXkxp5w2vttepWa6la0HE0v1MF2B0Le9U4McIK-CJAmBLPDFOGTVs4ye85eIUO8BlplwWwtxxbGqPaHHGj8KbKWV_WmHpMOMxGPxlt1ef_6ZLOosef23WXTL6pU1ZNuOdIXDe/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.57.41+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ZN7AhV0MXkxp5w2vttepWa6la0HE0v1MF2B0Le9U4McIK-CJAmBLPDFOGTVs4ye85eIUO8BlplwWwtxxbGqPaHHGj8KbKWV_WmHpMOMxGPxlt1ef_6ZLOosef23WXTL6pU1ZNuOdIXDe/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+12.57.41+AM.png" height="146" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Did I rewatch that part?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To quote Sarah Palin...YOU BETCHA! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, before the Christians get upset, they don't just stop with the desecration of THEIR religion, oh no, Salem is equal opportunity...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Step 4</b>: Insult two religions, just for good measure. Anyone KNOW a Wiccan? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I do, in fact, I'm related to a few. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's what WICCANS (i.e. Witches) believe: <a href="http://www.witchvox.com/" target="_blank">I got this site from someone that ACTUALLY practices!!!</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Go ahead, read up, scan everything because GUESS what Wiccans DO NOT worship?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THE DEVIL!!</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcTpQoofXghnAe7mKBmF07SOQs8DbLcUYOD86MMkUgLhfQaH_RqwLwEY_ClFHXEPsx4_nFivh4KMfMrLVWuCaFyQ4lk5lucpGDASxVSFN-66XXSOhuedwgMUZ8mOWAM15W7THNkdyabWT/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+9.40.46+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcTpQoofXghnAe7mKBmF07SOQs8DbLcUYOD86MMkUgLhfQaH_RqwLwEY_ClFHXEPsx4_nFivh4KMfMrLVWuCaFyQ4lk5lucpGDASxVSFN-66XXSOhuedwgMUZ8mOWAM15W7THNkdyabWT/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+9.40.46+AM.png" height="226" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">That's right, no Satan. Only nature. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Keeping that in mind this is what Wicca is: (again I got this FROM A WICCAN to be sure)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"W<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">icca is the formalized system of worship that reveres the Goddess and the God of ancient pagan belief.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are lots of different "schools" of wicca (like denominations in Christian religion), but they share mostly similar rituals and beliefs." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Basically, Wicca are the people who are telling you to drink this tea and that to settle your stomach. In fact, every Wiccan I know is kind, caring and sweet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Let's talk about the witches of Salem:</span></div>
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<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They stuff frogs and snakes into people to make them do their bidding. </span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They go into catatonic sex trances to mess with people inside their heads.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They let their familiars eat them like some sort of vampire, but only in sexy places ;)</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They were ALL inducted by Satan, making him a VERY busy little Devil to get around that much. </span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They are also planning the Apocalypse....</span></li>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Which begs the question...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Who's calling Buffy?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyEloAtuUuNwOJUn11JX1Lcv9UEWC9DpjgGBUbK3riiG_d1K9WeXddNl6EKlVftbGGGB_pjBXuWisDHr3UlqBh347XDHPyX-m5xmCpT-uGW5-omz_6vQoHSmfpadQGlnCrqqon229ec_9/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.10.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyEloAtuUuNwOJUn11JX1Lcv9UEWC9DpjgGBUbK3riiG_d1K9WeXddNl6EKlVftbGGGB_pjBXuWisDHr3UlqBh347XDHPyX-m5xmCpT-uGW5-omz_6vQoHSmfpadQGlnCrqqon229ec_9/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.10.44+PM.png" height="320" width="255" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">By the way, here's a <a href="http://www.tor.com/blogs/2014/04/television-review-salem-how-not-to-handle-history" target="_blank">Fun review - Because SOMEONE IS ACTUALLY TAKING THIS MESS SERIOUSLY!!! </a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As you can see, I'm NOT!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 5:</b> Rip off classic horror. You wanna sell a horror show that is NOT about zombies and vampires but then realize after you write the damn thing that everyone else is doing witches too??</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Head back to the 1980's to get some inspiration. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Here's a box that Mary Sibley so desperately needs to bring about "Last Days" : </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCyEdo-MVZjt6aPKJVYLnmU1QzAT1CvBMX-s_7g6mZQ2ISDAuFIqfddS6gipZGqnsoie-5XMYCH1VmBCIqO7EH_IwjyGYBBP98S-PfcBEaaKYtCqtloXTkBj-cnJ44jovf7Cq_0D2ToxQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.14.45+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCyEdo-MVZjt6aPKJVYLnmU1QzAT1CvBMX-s_7g6mZQ2ISDAuFIqfddS6gipZGqnsoie-5XMYCH1VmBCIqO7EH_IwjyGYBBP98S-PfcBEaaKYtCqtloXTkBj-cnJ44jovf7Cq_0D2ToxQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.14.45+PM.png" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This is the box from horror classic "Hellraiser" :</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJCjmEs4XN_IpEgfd6iCtE09mZhlgD7lCaiOQkSz4pPPIJaIMxQNM79sFVJ1x4zp_cA6BmzcraV0fUuJls_SWYXgZn9guw8XbH3mFsDwjPh33JIYa_VRkwzWpaTcpTXT_Ect4xxTIdyQp/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.14.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJCjmEs4XN_IpEgfd6iCtE09mZhlgD7lCaiOQkSz4pPPIJaIMxQNM79sFVJ1x4zp_cA6BmzcraV0fUuJls_SWYXgZn9guw8XbH3mFsDwjPh33JIYa_VRkwzWpaTcpTXT_Ect4xxTIdyQp/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.14.59+PM.png" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Later, Mr. Hale uses a mask that transports them wherever they need to go (which is usually the creepy ass woods full of *gasp* natives): </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomDtNqOyCNysgubvbaBKduYA1tNMHZpnheQiS7uQWSggJOmGvS7_c-Xn2-bGBz7UQMIwuBwTLNLzT0F4x5RfhFt8zO23kFEnxNaforAH6uh7_bxdU2qKP5k_PFZ1R9HB9WzkQP5DN7Nnc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.14.10+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomDtNqOyCNysgubvbaBKduYA1tNMHZpnheQiS7uQWSggJOmGvS7_c-Xn2-bGBz7UQMIwuBwTLNLzT0F4x5RfhFt8zO23kFEnxNaforAH6uh7_bxdU2qKP5k_PFZ1R9HB9WzkQP5DN7Nnc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.14.10+PM.png" height="175" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now, it's not horror, but...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16KXS4jP_pfeULpNTazwdRfa8wQJm2Szp0KY8a7kUc2EGGu4cf4LI1VMTGqtMS0z7DQQUSWXsDluZ6Uljc95_q9tSHIYwv3MvuqoCuraSnuUBOeoV5et18VXz2traDyD_fxaorXwrn2Cf/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.18.03+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16KXS4jP_pfeULpNTazwdRfa8wQJm2Szp0KY8a7kUc2EGGu4cf4LI1VMTGqtMS0z7DQQUSWXsDluZ6Uljc95_q9tSHIYwv3MvuqoCuraSnuUBOeoV5et18VXz2traDyD_fxaorXwrn2Cf/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+2.18.03+PM.png" height="176" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'd like to state, for the record, that I am NOT one of those people that notices stuff like this (in fact, I sit at Stargate Con and smile and nod and act like I have ANY clue what in that hell episode that was, because, I don't, ever) but if I'm noticing this, then, someone's NOT trying to hide it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 6</b>: Know your role...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">True Blood = Vampire Porn</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Bitten = Werewolf Porn</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Coven (or so I hear) = Witch Porn</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Salem = ALL OF THE ABOVE ISH PORN</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNZ822n3k8WrAhcie1SCx8GZdQqplLLMNJS0rtuYq_PK96pavP6ZxyNkt1bNka4WLQHVu5J6YrfTqQ0WqYJhPnbmGuyDHMq3gKHU-u8zx-nQPybZM0GuynZ-WmIZm4ShqNkwyd3Wk4Plv/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.39.31+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNZ822n3k8WrAhcie1SCx8GZdQqplLLMNJS0rtuYq_PK96pavP6ZxyNkt1bNka4WLQHVu5J6YrfTqQ0WqYJhPnbmGuyDHMq3gKHU-u8zx-nQPybZM0GuynZ-WmIZm4ShqNkwyd3Wk4Plv/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.39.31+PM.png" height="192" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That's a LOT of skin for Basic Cable, just sayin'.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 7:</b> Mention everyone hating and killing the Puritans, including the Puritans themselves once every five minutes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have this thing with a friend of mine, who I called to get help on this blog with, who's ranting, right now (he's on speaker phone) and his rants went something like this (paraphrased).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"It's because they were NASTY people...if you point me to a problem I can connect it to the Puritans. See! No! That's what this show is doing! The writers are telling us that it's TIME to CUT our PURITANICAL BONDS! They know we're too lazy and stupid to fix America, but if we present it as an allegory as to WHY these people ruined our lives and history you can see how they've destroyed everything. We're trapped in a religion that every European country was like, nah, y'all gotta LEAVE (I cannot understand what he is ranting right now...can't type that fast....)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I wonder if I can get audio....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">(End of rant: "You know how I get if you call and ask me about the Puritans. Why did you do that?")</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 8:</b> Make sure to ruin all medicine we have learned about in whiny TV medical dramas because in Salem we can cut animals OUT OF YOUR stomach and you live cut open FOR DAYS.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Case #1: Mercy Lewis. Here's good 'ole Mercy with snake...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2UMKrJKHQsIxtiwDpwMXLQDLWlJMk3VQS8aTw-0wPOjrje1yvCDCGIfC3K8aXvIiG2r-oOjXl7-kVZuU2xHCibF_5jqBzwfY0_-GpDm3xCcGDYfK6gGyDCCCw3hr6BIZ-tXKj5pqMqsZ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.25.52+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2UMKrJKHQsIxtiwDpwMXLQDLWlJMk3VQS8aTw-0wPOjrje1yvCDCGIfC3K8aXvIiG2r-oOjXl7-kVZuU2xHCibF_5jqBzwfY0_-GpDm3xCcGDYfK6gGyDCCCw3hr6BIZ-tXKj5pqMqsZ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.25.52+PM.png" height="242" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And then her dear old dad Reverend Lewis does some home operating (again, they have removed the episode "Lies" from the web so I can't screen cap it) but without so much as ONE stitch being shown she is suddenly up and about...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wFOoZRCGestmqwkFFMqGrlytNousHFNG672LAyH5TkuDFnGYl2uKlxihnV7ts7M1YNgmiSz80ee696mGSp9cD9RLmrTvw3HceWlJRE6cKHCeIazLbZdnu3jzXY79ppaZQpIo6OrJaTK9/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.28.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wFOoZRCGestmqwkFFMqGrlytNousHFNG672LAyH5TkuDFnGYl2uKlxihnV7ts7M1YNgmiSz80ee696mGSp9cD9RLmrTvw3HceWlJRE6cKHCeIazLbZdnu3jzXY79ppaZQpIo6OrJaTK9/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.28.44+PM.png" height="320" width="195" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Case #2: George Sibley</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now, considering the frog came up and down his throat, why he didn't think to puke is beyond me but, here you go...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDL3At5dXgAM68hoHCabYi7HsW35hGHun8THZwKrx6RK2A6tKhLPsdgSf5mKelRxuHVi51griT64Hp1jeVn8lGwt5Ht84NWurCSvmN2HWAvXPGPWTyVPcpus9Mta4J7zMl4NOUMOHdMqWD/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.32.46+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDL3At5dXgAM68hoHCabYi7HsW35hGHun8THZwKrx6RK2A6tKhLPsdgSf5mKelRxuHVi51griT64Hp1jeVn8lGwt5Ht84NWurCSvmN2HWAvXPGPWTyVPcpus9Mta4J7zMl4NOUMOHdMqWD/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.32.46+PM.png" height="177" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And then, miraculously, his sits like this...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_4otN0wi9uchKxWctQf9rDwwO_BWFRXJeT6HQq28q5eDuLPFBbyfzLZ4OS0sK7VXPerCdqnY-1uiPIeJEtAqsoO5jn3H2BbZksB-Ap7qNrU5MJU6GD3jQDis-QJ2-nDn791fj7VBMRVI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.32.57+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_4otN0wi9uchKxWctQf9rDwwO_BWFRXJeT6HQq28q5eDuLPFBbyfzLZ4OS0sK7VXPerCdqnY-1uiPIeJEtAqsoO5jn3H2BbZksB-Ap7qNrU5MJU6GD3jQDis-QJ2-nDn791fj7VBMRVI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.32.57+PM.png" height="191" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now granted, magic blah blah blah but it takes at LEAST a few hours for this magical help to arrive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">From someone who has cut a leg shaving, a lot, BLOOD GUSHES...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, either Shonda Rimes has taught me nothing OR I need to continue to suspend my disbelief. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 9:</b> Have everyone be fully dressed at all times outside of sex scenes including the Native Americans (who when they are not dressed are painted, completely) except for SHANE WEST / JOHN ALDEN who must do EVERYTHING shirtless. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">(Again, because they keep taking pics and episodes off of Hulu, you get this)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGnEWxJnbKITKXfjprTF6Zue_9kVRgxtraPzryxnx5-aUxl9i92sYMuPRLQnsfuCCyqZlQyL5KuWAV4KS4U_kCrWxw534Z2VpYAxBxm31LeWRna6rXAzgpknKMTkd5qFqfK6jdCI0b_VT/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.55.49+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGnEWxJnbKITKXfjprTF6Zue_9kVRgxtraPzryxnx5-aUxl9i92sYMuPRLQnsfuCCyqZlQyL5KuWAV4KS4U_kCrWxw534Z2VpYAxBxm31LeWRna6rXAzgpknKMTkd5qFqfK6jdCI0b_VT/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+7.55.49+PM.png" height="320" width="292" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But seriously, every time this man completes a SINGLE chore, he's shirtless. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">EVERY. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">SINGLE.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">TIME. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And no one bats an eye. Not that I'm complaining, but since they keep scolding women about hats and necklines one would THINK that sweaty pecs are equally as offensive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 10:</b> Cotton Mather YOU WIN.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You are in love with a prostitute and quote the Bible IN THE ACT. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You drink more than a frat boy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You dabble in the voodoo. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And when you get mad at daddy you do this...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlj1ERilgbwsBQ7zqquXG6PR05PXcFfnecY7roBdIA43LPVW4tcY-BhhpN-oCr-JnV_OlYBOiE9i-YnouykLZfl2PxZ8UjDCwHo6T2yrHSSOrtiMUBGH0Ra6V-0haxnvtjFXEU90hhCbP/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+8.02.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlj1ERilgbwsBQ7zqquXG6PR05PXcFfnecY7roBdIA43LPVW4tcY-BhhpN-oCr-JnV_OlYBOiE9i-YnouykLZfl2PxZ8UjDCwHo6T2yrHSSOrtiMUBGH0Ra6V-0haxnvtjFXEU90hhCbP/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+8.02.36+PM.png" height="227" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Get drunk, climb in a tree, and pee on John Alden. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I even was Cotton on the official "Who are you?" character quiz :D </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nl2vCp2LZqFSa-tXtAQ5mcE6TfwcP9kwKEJWOm2UCI10Yttb7PXpS5bmYtZ-GvTROnGIqEAraOmkCMtpX8oIBmpPr7Hj-8CUDvjAjR-yFgJ39xqYtOyIZ1MJURSnH8PRH_SWP98lln9t/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+8.21.25+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nl2vCp2LZqFSa-tXtAQ5mcE6TfwcP9kwKEJWOm2UCI10Yttb7PXpS5bmYtZ-GvTROnGIqEAraOmkCMtpX8oIBmpPr7Hj-8CUDvjAjR-yFgJ39xqYtOyIZ1MJURSnH8PRH_SWP98lln9t/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-06-26+at+8.21.25+PM.png" height="160" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, if you're looking for some quality entertainment on Sundays at 10/9c, tune into WGN. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You WON'T be sorry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And, I might even try to make a drinking game for this show, so stay tuned. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://wgnamerica.com/shows/salem" target="_blank">Official Show Website </a></span></div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-2114319804111685682014-06-02T10:21:00.000-04:002014-06-02T10:24:05.894-04:00How to End the Mommy Wars<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">How to End the Mommy Wars</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Subtitle: My response to the viral articles that have been gaining momentum, and what I think a NORMAL person has to say. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Sub sub title: My blogs are long, kiss it. If you want lists go to Buzzfeed.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here I was, trolling Facebook, pissed of because my DAMN Achilles Tendon is acting up again and I couldn't run much today when I found THIS article: </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.starfm.com/2014/05/23/end-the-mommy-wars/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">End the Mommy Wars</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I clicked, of course, because as the parent that LITERALLY was GAWKED at at my kid's school a few times (the most notable being when my hair was blue) I was curious. See, in some ways as a parent I am VERY traditional, when in others liberal does not go as far to describe how I parent. So when it comes to ending the "Mommy Wars" I'm all for it, because life shouldn't be a constant competition of trendy bullcrap that makes you look better than the next person, it should be about having a good time, making a difference, or treating others with respect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I clicked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*facepalm* </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ok, can I make this ANY clearer...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">LIFE IS NOT BLACK AND WHITE! THERE IS GRAY AREA!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Full disclosure*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As soon as I typed that I searched for a particular quote on living in absolutes to use and make sure it was correct attributed but this one is much better:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGVLjEuVhEQpAiWRiB5mLfs3zBSRqYsatqP8f-CbTdltxIEOvgAcN8H_pA9NfN4teDJ-7Y2bjU2lWg4dyBb1iWLtw8J4hW6mbagUtJLV7_G6XegxQB-drP12LZKAA7-sF3aVnoIHfafQE/s1600/tumblr_inline_mnvxyz5vv51qz4rgp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGVLjEuVhEQpAiWRiB5mLfs3zBSRqYsatqP8f-CbTdltxIEOvgAcN8H_pA9NfN4teDJ-7Y2bjU2lWg4dyBb1iWLtw8J4hW6mbagUtJLV7_G6XegxQB-drP12LZKAA7-sF3aVnoIHfafQE/s1600/tumblr_inline_mnvxyz5vv51qz4rgp.jpg" height="182" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We ALL know what happens after this right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If not, you might wanna start watching Star Wars. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ok, so here is my response for the "Ending the Mommy Wars" - the COMMON SENSE version. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Disclaimer #2* - I am WELL aware of them using absolutes as an illustration of the different ends of the spectrum. Emotional, brow-beaten moms and the general public may NOT be as aware. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 1: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Natural Home Birth vs. Scheduled C-section</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's a concept...ASK YOUR DOCTOR!!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Put aside the crap you've read on trendy grocery store magazines and ask someone who spent MOST of their adult life learning how to understand the human body and let THEM guide you. I have actually seen blogs discuss doctors "selling out" to big pharm blah blah blah. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then YOU'VE got the wrong doctor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Get off your butt and find a good one and stop letting someone with a computer and internet connection tell you what is best for you, your child and your body (yes, I too see the irony in that statement). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 2: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Breastfeed versus formula. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I formula fed Will. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I breastfed Clare. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I did not feel connected with my child or any of that other stuff breastfeeding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know right? The horror! I am SUCH a bad mom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Point is, I was formula day one and am a successful person. My sister was breastfed from day one and is a honors college student. We are both VERY healthy and active. You can do either, both, or a mix, as I did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Your kid will NOT die, trust me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 3: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Work "outside" the home versus Stay at home mom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">First, as someone who works FULL time in a CAREER position INSIDE the home, I take offense at that PC "outside the home" nonsense. Let's call a spade a spade, you either work or you don't. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">AND IT DOESN'T MATTER!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">OR, god forbid, you can work part-time inside the home, or outside of the home, or do home-sales, or be a stay at home mom that keeps kids or be a stay at home mom that is a super volunteer in your kids lives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just get over that work crap already. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 4 - 7:</b> I was ok with these, I felt they were pretty reasonable. Any you want me to address, let me know in the comments :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 8: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fact that you had to put "reasonably" in your poster pretty much makes my entire case here and negates your article. Who are you afraid is gonna call you out? That disclaimer being needed pretty much makes those of us who let them cry it out (and you're damn right I did, after I changed, food check etc., you cry, I leave room and done) now have to define reasonable thereby starting another mommy war. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nice move there...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 9: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And the bi parents? Just sayin'</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 10: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Again, ok fine, no beef.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Image 11: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ok, this is getting long for me and I'm just too bored to continue. My point is this. My kids eat McDonald's and they also like to walk to the farm stand a few miles down the road and pick out organic watermelons. There IS a middle ground, one founded in REASON and LOGIC. There is NO such thing as the perfect parent, even if you follow every trend, every book that Dr. Sears puts out, every ounce of guidance from your parents. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You're gonna screw up, probably a lot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You're gonna have to do different things for different kids that work for YOUR family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And you know what? The fact that you took the time to CARE enough to even read something like this, says a lot about how much you care anyways. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Keep fighting the good fight!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sincerely,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A NOT SO PERFECT Mom :) </span></div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-46992842475408297272014-05-14T11:38:00.000-04:002014-05-14T11:40:33.120-04:00How to Leave <div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">How to Leave</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Subtitle: I can't take it anymore, so I'm bowing out.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's not called quitting when there's a better option.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Please note: Not in normal format, so bear with me...</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dear Fandom,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I would like to begin by saying that I'm sorry it took me so long to learn of you as I am normally the person that likes to learn new things, but I was super busy. First, I'd like to thank you for your kind invitation into your fold a few years ago. I was excited, it was cool to belong to something so big and rich, but I am sad to say that this letter officially marks my resignation from your group. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As to not cause any confusion, I would like to state why...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">First, the term itself is troubling. It derives from the word fan which is short for fanatic which is as a person with "excessive or single-minded zeal." Unfortunately, single-minded is probably that last way I would describe myself as I have a variety of interests in variety of areas. While I understand that English is an ever changing language and the term has come to mean simply a person that likes/enjoys something a lot, I can't shake that I know the origin and really and truly "excessive and single-minded zeal" is a lot of what I witness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Secondly, I don't think I can hack being a part of your organization. I have so much going on in my life, a job, a family, pets, friends, hobbies, volunteer work to know things like episode names and what time things are in syndication or the birthdate and sports teams of the children of some of the actors I like is next to impossible. Hell, I barely know some of their (actors) names; thank Athena for Wikipedia! I just don't know those little "fan" tidbits and since I have to work and pay my bills I don't have a lot of time to look them up. And honestly, I don't care. I will go to a con here or there and give a hug, but to be truthful, I'm terrified of a photo-op taking too long because I have NO IDEA what the guest is talking about when he/she/they mention a fan or personal website update last week. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">No idea. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm just smiling and nodding because they play a character I like in something. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thirdly, and most concerning, is the bullying. Now, I understand that many of the fans have flocked to this to escape reality and have since they were in school. I didn't, I just liked the stuff in my free time, and I really can't relate to them when they talk about being bullied in school/work/life because that is just not my personal life experience. To top it off, however, what I then see, in person and online are the very same people that are whining about being bullied, bullying themselves. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ok I'm lost?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is this something those of us who were not bullies or have never been victims won't get?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You see, I had always assumed that if you were, I dunno, let's say, singled out in high school to be harassed that you would never want to do that to another person, that you would want other people to live a life better than yours, not that you would turn to the internet to find your own victims. Or, if you had a rough life, which that I've had I just try not to rub it in everyone else's faces, that you would want to help others, not use it as an excuse to be abusive. That just makes no sense, and it makes me feel as if there is some psychologically wrong with the entire organization. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lastly, and I truly apologize for this, I think I came into this for the wrong reasons. Not to beat a dead horse, but I found you at a low time in my life and you helped get me through it. Thanks for that, but it was selfish and I tried to give back, write some stories for the other fans, but I just don't think I thought it through before joining. I like to give things 100%, my "A game" so to speak, and I haven't. I don't get fan sites, I don't join forums, I really do not feel comfortable in fan groups and I feel guilty talking to others about having a happy life that is not fictional. Because of these things, I have been VERY slack in my fan knowledge and interaction so when things are presented to me I'm back at the photo-op scenario where I just have no clue as to what is going on. As such, I feel that since I am unable to give you my very best, and it is time that I step away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In closing, I'd like to thank you for your willingness to accept me. I wish you only the best. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sincerely,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Bri</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ex-fan</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">now someone that just "likes" stuff </span></i></div>
ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-14767964174402492652014-04-07T21:06:00.003-04:002014-04-07T21:12:01.296-04:00How to Relax <br />
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<b>How to Relax</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: Just stop right there. I do know how to relax. </i></div>
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<i>Really.</i></div>
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<i>I do. </i></div>
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<i>Stop laughing. </i></div>
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<i>Who told you to buy all that Spanish wine? </i></div>
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<i>Thought so....</i></div>
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<b>Step 1: </b>Survive. Whether it be Monday (ugh like today) or the week, the month, the year, or your in-laws visiting (which we all know is some period of time between a year and an eternity in the hottest depths of hell)... (just kidding Mary xo) all you gotta do it survive. </div>
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<b>Step 2: </b> Or avoid getting arrested. I mean, sometimes, people deserve a slap down but you just can't, even though you want to, even though they really deserve it because for some unexplainable reason they have lost ALL touch with reality as a whole and not even a deity or a hot Canadian actor that looks like one could convince them of said reality you can't hit them, kick them or shoot them with a poo gun. </div>
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Especially the poo gun thing, because only the military has those. </div>
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Google: Gun that makes you poo</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8O9y81btm9yRUVv-LCnIW-BteloXHFp6Zy2tBXGc0lyEui2sE_CisCQE43uH4-Orxpq5CBi_212HPJFtl4sVvGiZNd-p1Tp4M06-GVEOPkQ_qDvkM8v2qtX5sNIGRmKyI6SQWRjO_XRJx/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-07+at+9.00.56+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8O9y81btm9yRUVv-LCnIW-BteloXHFp6Zy2tBXGc0lyEui2sE_CisCQE43uH4-Orxpq5CBi_212HPJFtl4sVvGiZNd-p1Tp4M06-GVEOPkQ_qDvkM8v2qtX5sNIGRmKyI6SQWRjO_XRJx/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-07+at+9.00.56+PM.png" height="182" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? My friend says 'Enlisted' is pretty accurate and that man has a POO gun!</td></tr>
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I'll wait. </div>
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But in the off chance that you HAVE to punch someone's lights out or slash their tires, have bail money. </div>
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<b>Step 3: </b> Strip. </div>
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Woah boys, calm down, this isn't a show. </div>
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Get into PJs, yoga pants, fluffy socks, anything that you could NEVER set foot in a professional setting wearing. </div>
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Me? I prefer yoga pants and a Daniel Jackson t-shirt. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWLXfLHMOaQZM-b4s9wL9CSGa-Ob3TXrfu4In33axop1_H12arz8rVoQ6GwUanbOauvwxXg4LSPFoYc9qko0fltarFrUdRQ-y12PCVrpBWnaBCpOT7WJd6EM6Kb6Ab2ra_YH6luvcGeKpn/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-10-08+at+8.37.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWLXfLHMOaQZM-b4s9wL9CSGa-Ob3TXrfu4In33axop1_H12arz8rVoQ6GwUanbOauvwxXg4LSPFoYc9qko0fltarFrUdRQ-y12PCVrpBWnaBCpOT7WJd6EM6Kb6Ab2ra_YH6luvcGeKpn/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-10-08+at+8.37.16+PM.png" height="193" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wear him for the SAYING!! Perverts! </td></tr>
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That way Daniel is close to my....</div>
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Nevermind, I said there was no show here. </div>
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<b>Step 4: </b>Heat. </div>
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It is essential and can come in many forms. </div>
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Stop thinking like that. </div>
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Oh you weren't? That was just me? </div>
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My bad...</div>
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Back to the heat. </div>
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Ok, you can take a hot shower, get in the hot tub, the sauna, the electric blanket, the heating pad, the sunshine, the possibilities are endless but just get HOT. It will relax your everything and make you jello. </div>
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No we are not drinking just yet. Unless you just wanna stay here, which is acceptable, and therefore you can skip to step 10. </div>
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<b>Step 5: </b>Pour a starter drink! Ha, we didn't even get to step 10, but we need to enjoy our starter beverage before we move to step 6. </div>
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In case you never learned this in college, I am about to impart on you one of the best pieces of advice I was EVER given:</div>
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<i><b>Beer before liquor, much much sicker. </b></i></div>
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<i><b>Liquor before beer, in the clear. </b></i></div>
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In which case I am NOT breaking the set-up of my comedic blog entries in that we are not drinking wine (which works like the beer in the rhyme above, but doesn't rhyme so we assume), we are drinking liquor. </div>
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I recommend tequila. </div>
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<b>Step 6: </b>Make food. Now, yes, I am healthy now, and fit and blah blah blah but if the day has been shitty do NOT each frakkin' tofu. </div>
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No, I'm not advocating breaking out the brownies, I mean you can, but eat something that makes you happy because otherwise all of this great relaxation progress is going to come to a halt because you are pissed off that you have to eat some nonsense that you don't like anyway but some idiot celebrity on twitter brags about eating because she knows SOOOO much about health...</div>
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But I digress. </div>
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Get something you want to eat. </div>
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Right now, I am gonna get some apple and peanut butter, because I LIKE peanut butter. </div>
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<b>Step 7: </b> Get LOST. </div>
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WAIT! COME BACK! </div>
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I didn't mean literally!</div>
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Find a fantasy world and get lost in it. Whether it be a book, a TV show, a movie, something you are creating, anything get totally and a hundred percent lost in it. </div>
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SCREW what anyone else thinks because if they are judging YOUR relaxation they are just jealous that they a) can't or b) are too stupid to figure out what to get lost in. </div>
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Let yourself melt away..............</div>
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Sorry, got lost in some Daniel & Addy fan fic. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggv6ix9tcRi3HI1qYqwe1Ix7e_MIr4hDY5gFemoiHP4SKtbvmTXdaXmI96QzjpaM8ql-tfiD8EYyHVidEe__QkVdP6sy8qq-UTTAJ6fGo3wEzgnJ1t_o6w6z8dibCYj-vTW3OK4e1XF6ca/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-26+at+7.37.51+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggv6ix9tcRi3HI1qYqwe1Ix7e_MIr4hDY5gFemoiHP4SKtbvmTXdaXmI96QzjpaM8ql-tfiD8EYyHVidEe__QkVdP6sy8qq-UTTAJ6fGo3wEzgnJ1t_o6w6z8dibCYj-vTW3OK4e1XF6ca/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-26+at+7.37.51+PM.png" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Addy's Daniel...*sigh*</td></tr>
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You judging? </div>
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Two words: Reality TV</div>
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Uh huh, can we continue? </div>
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<b>Step 8:</b> Put your kids to bed. Whether they be furry or smooth kids, by this point you may be a half a bottle of tequila in, slow down momma, a pan of brownies and might be Macarena-ing on the Wii. </div>
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Forget school, your kids don't wanna see that. </div>
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Trust me, no one can make the Macarena look good. </div>
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<b>Step 9: </b> Cards Against Humanity. </div>
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Again, if you don't know what this is, go search it, or better yet, go check out Wil Wheaton's twitter feed. </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaR7TjfAUdfqbNlW-lOs0b4LqdOQjFF_4n1lP32jc_Fsgc4MlLCdTC6c3ReZp6L8z3yo4LA0iixplQseVX6gtkZrnoJY5stZWv0C11hROCXYOJYB7qAfD3-V989XFycH3ge0om4pxSH53P/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-07+at+9.05.40+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaR7TjfAUdfqbNlW-lOs0b4LqdOQjFF_4n1lP32jc_Fsgc4MlLCdTC6c3ReZp6L8z3yo4LA0iixplQseVX6gtkZrnoJY5stZWv0C11hROCXYOJYB7qAfD3-V989XFycH3ge0om4pxSH53P/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-07+at+9.05.40+PM.png" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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Jaw up. </div>
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Oh, I thought you already knew I was going to hell. </div>
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I've designed my throne :P</div>
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<b>Step 10: .... </b>a poem</div>
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<b><i>Stop that fussin' and that whine</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Cuz tomorrow you gotta rise and shine</i></b></div>
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<b><i>But for now enjoy the fruit of the vine</i></b></div>
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<b><i>And open up some Spanish wine</i></b></div>
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Not from a gas station :P </div>
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Enjoy ya'll! </div>
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I'm gonna relax </div>
ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-41542483144100997912014-03-17T07:57:00.000-04:002014-03-17T09:03:53.186-04:00How to Understand Your Distance Runner Friends <div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How to Understand Your Distance Runner Friends </span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Subtitle: We seem to make sense on those light workout days and then we disappear for hours only to return and wander incoherently. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">THIS is why...</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This blog is an extension of a Facebook status that a few people suggested I should write. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Enjoy. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">SETTING THE SCENE: </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's been only 8.5 miles, a very light long run day, but I'm in 10K & Tri mode, so there's no need for double digits today. I stagger into the house, in some strange mixture of sheer elation and exhaustion. My husband tries to talk to me, how was the run, here is a play by play of everything that happened while I was gone as if I have been gone for over a week, and now he is asking me what I wanna do this afternoon and...</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">STOP!!!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Let me explain. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This, my love, is what a distance runner goes through, things that when I ran in high school and college I never quite experienced because I never got this far. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;">Cycle of long run day: </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;"><b>Step 1:</b> Relief that long run is over.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That cute little lady or beep goes off and you scream 'YES!' because you survived another long one! WOO HOO!! It's OVER! WE may now proceed with our regularly scheduled day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But wait. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;"><b>Step 2: </b>"Damn, I could do more. Let's go do more..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And now you're standing in your kitchen, a glance at your feet, starting to criticize yourself rather than praise. You fat cow you can run a bit further, burn more calories, shave more seconds off your mile, I'm not tired, I feel good, I can go more, of this, maybe a half marathon, let's run a hundred miles...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;"><b>Step 3</b>: You realize that you're training for a specific race and therefore need to stop at the mileage you stopped at because it's part of a training plan to meet a goal not for temporary gratification. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That's why training plans exist, to follow them, even when you don't want to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">FOLLOW THE PLAN. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">BE RATIONAL. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You DON'T want to get hurt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Remember that last time? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ouch...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;"><b>Step 4</b>: Get pissed about step 3.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">REALLY pissed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It might be a good idea to leave the room and change clothes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And IF you're still in the room: STEP AWAY FROM THE RUNNER! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;"><b>Step 5:</b> The body has finally figured out it is not go</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;">ing to get to go out again and responds by sweating like a pig. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You've made it to your room and are peeling away the clothes that are now a part of your body when it hits you. The wet, the smell, the disgusting...the suction. (Yeah, that's a thing...)</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My godmother once taught me that girls don't sweat, they glow. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh no, not me.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I sweat like a HORSE!</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">TMI??</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My bad. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><b>Step 6:</b> Begin to shiver and shake as you're freezing because a) you're finally sweating and b) you're not as big as you used to be anymore and you're in a constant state of 'I am freezing.' </span></span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I'm not talking about let's get a sweater freezing, I'm talking knees knocking, full on need to move to the tropics freezing and after being a distance runner now for over three years my husband still gets freaked out about. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Step 7</b>: I need a shower, to be less gross and more warm. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, start the water, it's heating, not hot enough, I have a towel, waters almost ready when it hits me...</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">OH DEAR LORD...</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><b>Step 8</b>: (Body speaking) "Screw a shower you vain beast, FEED ME." </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"But I smell..." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">"Wanna smell worse? I can make that happen." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">"How, you have nothing in there to MAKE that happen with?"</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">"Ever smelled a dead person?"</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">"No, but you haven't either."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">"Touché, but do you think anyone else here wants to find out?"</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="color: #37404e; line-height: 18px;">Step 9:</b><span style="color: #37404e;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Internal debate of shower versus food as you chug water. (They are not too exhausted to form REAL words...)</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dizzy....</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Smelly....</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Rumbly....</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Achy.....</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tired....</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">AM.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">SO.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">TIRED.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><b>Step 10</b>: Give up on everything and pass out asleep.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ok, so you might not sleep, after all, most of us that run have to just keep on trucking after training with kids, jobs, etc. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My point here is this, yep, we sure are gluttons for punishment, and no, don't pity us, we will want to punch you, but long after the cute little running fad is over, those of us who do this every single week will still be at it, still stinking it up, still giving you the hate stare for asking if we want a Powerbar or some nonsense. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Just hand us a jug of water and back away. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">FAST.</span></span><br />
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-77232545631030189432014-02-16T12:10:00.001-05:002014-02-16T12:12:25.992-05:00How to presents... What in the HELL is Change your Stars??<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>How to presents... What in the HELL is Change your Stars??</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: There are a few new riders to this crazy train, so I need to make sure we know what insanity we've signed up for. </i></div>
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<b>Step 1: </b>It starts with a movie. Of course it does because I was a poor kid and GUESS what poor kids do?? We watch TV and act it out outside. That was my life growing up, watch movie, play it outside with my friends, repeat. We did the same with books and I read a lot, acting those out too. And, since the real world was a place I didn't want to be a part of anymore, I chose Sci-Fi and Fantasy because in those stories the kids that lived like I had to got to escape and they took me with them. </div>
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So, now to the clip(s). </div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhep2fZKHgE" target="_blank">William makes a decision - A Knight's Tale </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8artJcUSEo" target="_blank">William's father is the reason he believes - A Knight's Tale </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkqomLTu9-Y" target="_blank">William comes back to tell his father that he did it - A Knight's Tale</a></div>
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<b>Step 2</b>: Realize that for once, a movie is correct. </div>
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I'd like to preface this with 'I am not supposed to be here'. See, if I could list the shit that I've gone through I'd sound utterly sad and pathetic. It was no one's fault per se, but the myth of how 'good' it is we have it here is just that, a myth. Generally speaking, the kids like me that I went to school with became just like their parents, little to no education, married the same abusive and alcoholic men that their mothers did, got jobs that they hate and that treat them like crap, etc.</div>
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But I refused. </div>
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You can too. </div>
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<b>Step 3: </b>An education. GET an education. It doesn't have to be a Master's or any other nonsense fed to you by those who 'have' and really don't know what you're going through. LEARN to do something, have a skill, and become good at it in a way that you will always be needed by others. Getting an education saved my life and is the reason I became a teacher and am getting a PhD in education. Having an education is the difference between success and failure in a way you will never truly understand until you have it and you are able to set yourself apart from the rest. </div>
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<b>Step 4: </b>Be kind. That is the biggest difference I have found between those who have pulled themselves from the depths of dismay and those who still wallow in self pity is the way they treat other people. We are all different, each and every one of us and we are all struggling in one way or another. By being kind and reaching out to listen to another, you are helping to change their stars as well as proving to yourself that you are changing your own. </div>
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<b>Step 5: </b>And then help them. I'm not saying take on their problems, but help them figure out their own destiny. It doesn't take money, in fact, your time is the most precious commodity that you have give. If you know how to do something, take the time to teach someone else. Provide advice if you've been there before. </div>
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And know when to shut up and just hug someone because that is all you can do. </div>
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<b>Step 6</b>: Understand this is the hardest thing you will ever have to do. This is NOT easy. You will cry. You will doubt yourself. People that you thought were your friends and family will say the most awful and horrible things out of a lack of understanding, thinking they mean well, or sometimes just jealously. The tears I have shed are impossible to ever count. But you have to do it! Get up, stop bitching and DO IT!</div>
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<b>Step 7</b>: And you will fail. </div>
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A lot.</div>
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I went from that 'poor kid' with the overworked single mom and the dad that abandoned us to college scholar with a great job and an education to giving up again. </div>
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This is where I will be a little more personal, because people need to know. The worst decision I ever made was to try to return to my roots, and by that I mean work in the school system that I went to. THAT was what set me back, the lack of support and complete and total destruction of everything I had ever worked for occurred there and I lost myself. </div>
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I used to be athletic and fit but I became fat and sick (very very sick) and ate my troubles away. </div>
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I used to be happy and outgoing and I became withdrawn and lost all of my confidence. </div>
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I used to love learning and education, but I stopped learning, stopped trying to do better and just accepted status quo. </div>
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I used to love me, and instead I wanted to end my life. </div>
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Until that was no longer acceptable.</div>
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<b>Step 8</b>: Look inside yourself for help. </div>
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This isn't about my weight loss, that is just the most visible of what I have come back from. Many of you know this story, but it all started with my eye. </div>
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See, one day, doing something stupid, I almost lost the vision in my left eye. That was the last straw, I lost it completely, and decided that life was no longer living. While on bed rest I tried to figure out how to die, letting Netflix stream hour after hour. My daughter didn't see me as a woman, my son no longer thought I was someone he could talk to, my husband laughed at the idea of me just walking a 5K for charity. </div>
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Then one day, while streaming Stargate, which was a TV show based on a movie that I loved and a character I had adored since I was 14, I heard this line, as Daniel Jackson was being beat to a pulp. </div>
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"Do you ever give up?" </div>
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Daniel: "Not unless I'm dead. Sometimes, not even then." </div>
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I will never be able to explain to me why that did it, but it did. </div>
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I would give up no longer. </div>
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And so it began. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHR4SQdnD7Vw-jDprc7qVi5x5csnMiz6vBiZ0QKlxQnVbfw43VgMHHnjBUC7Y4wgKet0COdzzBb_ZVyxm0bWUIXoIJ6L733e8Yok-OTS4-n3215_0AwZKbQxrL4QmSg77I47u_5FKwhMBb/s1600/Daniel+Never.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHR4SQdnD7Vw-jDprc7qVi5x5csnMiz6vBiZ0QKlxQnVbfw43VgMHHnjBUC7Y4wgKet0COdzzBb_ZVyxm0bWUIXoIJ6L733e8Yok-OTS4-n3215_0AwZKbQxrL4QmSg77I47u_5FKwhMBb/s1600/Daniel+Never.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Step 9</b>: It's never too late. I tell you this story because I took the kid to young adult getting further than I ever should have gotten. THEN, when it all fell apart, I came back a second time. Yes, I am annoying and I tell everyone this. </div>
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Why? </div>
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Because IT IS NEVER TOO LATE FOR ANYTHING. </div>
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It's never too late to live your dreams. </div>
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It's never too late to make a difference. </div>
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It's never too late to change something that is wrong. </div>
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Like I said before, it is NOT going to be easy. It may take years. You may piss people off. You may feel alone, a lot. And remember the crying, yep, lots of that. But you CAN do it. </div>
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I believe in you. </div>
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Because I'm not supposed to be here. </div>
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<b>Step 10:</b> And in the interest of the 'How-to' theme for step 10, here's my toast to you: </div>
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<i>May you never lose your way</i></div>
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<i>But if you do may you never give up on finding it</i></div>
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<i>Because a man or WOMAN can change their stars. </i></div>
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And if you ever need me, all you have to do is ask. </div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-71188305117308410132014-01-14T14:41:00.000-05:002014-01-14T14:45:49.609-05:00How to Laugh it Off<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>How to Laugh it Off</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: At this point, I can't do anything else but laugh. </i></div>
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<b>Step 1: </b>Canada, I love you, I do. Your people are nice, your Shanks is hot, and your Poutine makes a former fat girl cry with joy. However, please do me ONE favor. </div>
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Stop. Making. Software. </div>
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Truly, it's hurting me. You make a rushed Windows update look like something we actually want to purchase. </div>
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Ok, feel me?? </div>
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Make more of this --------><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtPv0W2i2x8hbWZD-YgkFZXHrDgytVjnVP3MSBTrcJQYDxKaxm2VNFRSKhWFzegxvei7mNsvj5GpAI3mPrQgLlSqYqSrzd4i5xkPjiOivQUcBDg0PIftOZBcbAfujdQKCW0jSalWekZLG/s1600/1377022_580521191995412_2039015455_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtPv0W2i2x8hbWZD-YgkFZXHrDgytVjnVP3MSBTrcJQYDxKaxm2VNFRSKhWFzegxvei7mNsvj5GpAI3mPrQgLlSqYqSrzd4i5xkPjiOivQUcBDg0PIftOZBcbAfujdQKCW0jSalWekZLG/s1600/1377022_580521191995412_2039015455_n.jpg" height="200" width="136" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLWfhmHaA-_CYxmTQoUnpPE_yJCPw7cSOYK3PUgkiXOW7DIJtgo4I-oFDBIe6FEiWjSDFECtIHmvfsuS6iRmjabfCBqiFUs3dvXgI4MGssrdgckEwXYX06F_ERg8Y6jSWiNfKjIUDrWfV/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-01-14+at+2.14.31+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLWfhmHaA-_CYxmTQoUnpPE_yJCPw7cSOYK3PUgkiXOW7DIJtgo4I-oFDBIe6FEiWjSDFECtIHmvfsuS6iRmjabfCBqiFUs3dvXgI4MGssrdgckEwXYX06F_ERg8Y6jSWiNfKjIUDrWfV/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-01-14+at+2.14.31+PM.png" height="200" style="cursor: move;" width="180" /></a></div>
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And LESS of this --------> </div>
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<b>Step 2:</b> Face that they're not gonna stop making software. Ergo, you must take matters into your own hands... (no wine, yet anyway, it's too early to drink...)</div>
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<b>Step 3:</b> Prepare for updates. See, in what I believe is an attempt at politeness, because they make my ENTIRE country look like a cesspool of jackasses, this lovely company does their updates at night, on holidays etc. That's great, it doesn't shut down the system, but what it DOES do is cause this to happen...</div>
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Imagine, sitting down at your desk, a hot cup of joe in one hand and the other listlessly logging into the system. All is well, it's time to start your day when...</div>
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YOUR PAGER/EMAIL/PHONE explode. </div>
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See, today, the FABULOUS update by my most beloved software company changed 'tu y yo' on my AP SPANISH QUIZZES to tofu. </div>
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Yes. </div>
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You read that right. </div>
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Tofu. </div>
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At the END of the semester. </div>
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I'm about to change that wine rule from earlier. </div>
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<b>Step 4</b>: The Gradebook is a living organism, that reproduces. Randomly. I'm starting to think that they have sexy parties after I log off, all of the grade books just boozing it up, dashing off into dark hidden corners of the system. This morning there was not one but TWO, yes, TWO newborn grade book babies. No clue as to where in the hell they came from, no clue as to what magical nonexistent assignments that they represent, just NO IDEA. </div>
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Whatever, I'll call the tech guy. </div>
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*Makes a note of how many beers I owe him later*</div>
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<b>Step 5</b>: People don't read. They don't read letters, they don't read passwords, they just don't read. In fact, are YOU reading this, or skimming it or did you stop at the picture of Daniel Jackson (I mean, I would have too, don't get me wrong, he is QUITE distracting)?</div>
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Case in point: I use Game of Thrones characters as passwords. Today's password was Joffrey. </div>
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THIS was a phone call I got (NO LIE): </div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: Sure thing! Sorry it was confusing. The password is 'Joffrey'.
Adult on the Line helping student: Jeffery?
Me: No 'Joffrey'with an 'O'. J-O-F-F-R-E-Y Joffrey.
Adult: I put that. I put J-E-F-F-E-R-Y</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: No, that's Jeffery. This has an "o".</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adult: I put an 'o' J-E- *pauses* I didn't read carefully, did I?</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
*facepalm*</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Step 6:</b> Check the clock, it's time for a wine countdown. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Step 7:</b> Oh, you were checking the clock? Babe, I already opened the bottle. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Step 8</b>: Wait? What was I doing??</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Step 9:</b> No, really, if I could fix it I would, trust me...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Step 10</b>: ...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is Brianne's liver speaking. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Due to her erratic behavior today and her rapid and heavy consumption of Italian Red Wine, I will be voiding her normal step ten, which is to drink, and ask someone to kindly message me with instructions as to how to work the coffee maker. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you.</span></span></span></div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-58269536673456692992013-12-31T10:32:00.000-05:002013-12-31T10:32:00.136-05:00How to Send it Off <div style="text-align: center;">
<b>How to Send it Off</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: This is NOT a year in review, well totally, this is a return to my blogging roots :D </i></div>
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<i>No advice here, just silly! </i></div>
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Here goes nothing...</div>
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I have to admit that January sucked some ass</div>
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Sorry for already using words that are so crass</div>
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In February plans were made </div>
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And we figured out where we had strayed</div>
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By March I was running like a fool</div>
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And met a Canadian who was rather cool</div>
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In April our life was in full swing</div>
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But I was too excited as to what summer would bring</div>
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May we wrapped up the year of school and work</div>
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Loving and living each and every little perk</div>
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In June I just enjoyed my two little shits</div>
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Who kept my company as I finished my work bits</div>
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There were some laughs with Carl Mool I just have to mention</div>
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That helped relieved the 2 a.m. tension</div>
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When along came July when I jumped some crazy brit</div>
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And together we tore up the London Film & Comic Con a bit</div>
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August for me and my man was the big ten</div>
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Spent it in Chicago with some amazing people, my sister wife, and Stargate's Big Ben ;)</div>
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September the school year started anew</div>
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And I got to jump Hot Pants for time number two</div>
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I wish I could remember much of October</div>
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And it's because of the training you jerk; I was perfectly sober</div>
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<br /></div>
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I accomplished a dream on the sixteenth of November</div>
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as I ran a marathon, something I will always remember</div>
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So then came December and we looked back, </div>
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on things that had happened and things that hadn't.</div>
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You see, life is what you make it, you can't sit around.</div>
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If you're waiting for it to happen for you, then YOU'RE at fault for your frown. </div>
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So here's to the new year, and the adventures it may bring.</div>
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Don't be afraid to be yourself, do your own thing. </div>
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Sure there will always be something that is out of reach. </div>
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But don't let that control your life, look for the lessons it can teach. </div>
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As for me, this will be a years of races,</div>
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on the road as well as other interesting places.</div>
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Best wishes to you and yours for an amazing year,</div>
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Know that YOU are in control of the direction you steer. </div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-47623367412474516002013-12-23T09:34:00.003-05:002013-12-23T09:35:12.815-05:00How to Understand Extroverts<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>How to Understand Extroverts</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: I'm not a psychologist, but I AM an extrovert, so I think that outweighs someone who's NOT giving their opinion. </i></div>
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<i>Sub-sub title: I'm NOT an energy sucking asshole. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<b>Step 1:</b> Stop associating us with those clever little introvert cartoons on Facebook! Evidently, according to that 22 things or whatever cartoon that was pretty on the mark for introverts, WE extroverts are 'Energy-Sucking Vampires.'</div>
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Yeah, no. </div>
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See, ex, if you know Latin means 'out' therefore we're expelling energy OUTWARD. Honestly, most of us have so much energy to burn that it's exploding out of us 24/7 (If you've met me, you've met the hugging energy monster) and we're really not trying to draw from your introvertedness. In fact, if anything, we want to give to you because in our world happiness is this giant hug fest to be shared. </div>
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Annoyed yet? </div>
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Dude, I'm like this and I annoy myself :P</div>
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Point being, you wanna like that cute little cartoon fine, but it was not entitled Extroverts. </div>
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THAT part was WRONG. </div>
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Then again, I'm relying on social media to tell the truth about something, so, yeah...</div>
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<b>Step 2:</b> This does not mean we're happy all of the time. So, here's the deal. MOST people are NOT Extroverts. Think about the last gathering you went to. Extroverts are NOT the blow-bragging family member everyone hates. The extroverts are the aunt that hugged everyone hi, checked the food fifteen times, asked you if you were alright about the same number of times, then hugged everyone goodbye, maybe even led the family in Christmas Carols. There is usually one of us and we're easy to spot. But we're not happy all of the time. This doesn't mean we're depressed, sad, that we're secret introverts that need re-charging, it's just that sometimes WE wear ourselves out. </div>
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Literally. </div>
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I go and go and go and go and go ALL DAY and I have insomnia and I go and go and go and go and then...</div>
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CRASH</div>
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I'm not depressed, mad at you, mad at anyone, no other creative drama, I have just <i><b>literally</b></i> passed out from exhaustion.</div>
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And I drool, so, my bad...</div>
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<b>Step 3:</b> We have feelings and they can get hurt, easily. Probably easier than you think. Energy and positivity is NOT the "IN" thing. We as a society make fun of people that are over-dramatic, emo, etc. but really and truly when we meet a REALLY happy extroverted person the FIRST thing we say is "FAKER" or "PUT-ON." </div>
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Just think about that for a second. </div>
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How would that make YOU feel??</div>
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It HURTS you MORONS! <------ See, I'm an extrovert, I shouted that. :P </div>
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We ARE happy, until you question our motives. THIS is just WHO we are; we're not here to upset or hurt you, we just ARE like this just like you just ARE introverted.<br />
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*Puts away tissues*<br />
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I'm better now...<br />
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*Sniff*</div>
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<b>Step 4:</b> If we are like this around everyone BUT you, then YOU might be the problem. Not to be a jerk but Extroverts are sensitive; we want to help and be happy and when we are around someone who CLEARLY likes to be miserable, we don't draw in like introverts, we put our energy elsewhere. When I am at an uncomfortable party full of nasty people, I CLEAN compulsively or find something else to do. The energy has gotta go somewhere, and if you're not wanting it and are gonna be a jerk when I expel it, I'm gonna find a way for it to get out. </div>
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So, I'd like to thank everyone for putting up with me because I KNOW it's exhausting. (Remember, see step 2 :) ) </div>
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<b>Step 5</b>: Realize we are NOT all the same. Granted, a lot of this is speaking for me, but many of us have just ONE thing in common, the energy/personality type that I'm talking about here. After that, many similarities stop. I'm an extrovert that teaches online and uses social media, which puts me as the lone extrovert in a world of introverts. What you see online is NOT an act, I AM that energetic 24/7. I walk right up and hug people, even when I don't know them! I adore Michael Shanks and I have just marched my ass up to him and thrown my arms around him. </div>
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Twice. </div>
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I don't care. </div>
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Because I'm not thinking and analyzing, we Extroverts think everyone puts their pants on the same way as we do, so we're just marching up there. </div>
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I've hugged the BIG BOSS at the DOE. </div>
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And I would hug Barack Obama or the Pope, just a warning to you both.</div>
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<b>Step 6</b>: HUG US. I went off track before, extrovert thing, see above. We're annoying like that. In fact, when, or at least me, feels like I CAN'T hug you, it's like a worm is eating me from the inside...</div>
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<b>Step 7:</b> Oh yeah, and we're not stupid. In fact, MANY of us have a VERY high IQ, but it's not socially acceptable to be happy and smart; they don't go together. OR our smarts are overshadowed by impulsiveness. Yep, when I get pissed, I rant and go bonkers first and think it through later. Sometimes I'm in the right, other times not. </div>
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It's just the way we are. </div>
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And to repeat, an extrovert's rant does NOT mean we're not "alright." </div>
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We'll be good in like, legit, five minutes. </div>
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We JUST had to blast out that energy. </div>
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See? Rant over already :D :D :D </div>
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<b>Step 8: </b>Don't call us hyper. </div>
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Hyper is an over-stimulated child. That's rude; we have energy, but we are not children that need ritalin.</div>
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Want us to call you EMO? </div>
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Didn't think so. </div>
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Easily distracted and stimulated?</div>
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Fine, I'll give you that...<br />
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BLACK SQUIRREL!</div>
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<b>Step 9: </b>I LOVE you. Now I GET mad and say I hate people, but I don't. Extroverts wanna have their hands in everything and fix the world and just because we're loud doing it doesn't mean we want or need recognition; we're just loud by nature. </div>
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I will run back to open the door. </div>
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I will do insane things like scream and stop everything to save a turtle. </div>
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I know you guys are doing it too, you just do it a LOT LOT quieter and we secretly hate you for it because WE CAN'T! It is in our nature to be LOUD just like it's in yours NOT to be.</div>
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You get an idea and you just do it, nice and quiet and normal. </div>
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WE get an idea and BAMMO!!!! IDEA OUT OF CONTROL. </div>
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Point is, we mean well and we care, just pat us and listen, it'll come down eventually.</div>
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Maybe...</div>
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What the HELL else did I just volunteer for!?!?!</div>
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<b>Step 10: </b>Can I get a glass? Yep, we're the ones that a bottle or so in are gonna be on the table. </div>
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Don't be hatin' :p</div>
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Just video it! </div>
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Trust me, we'll think it's HILARIOUS later especially if you post it on Facebook!</div>
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Ice Ice Baby anyone?? </div>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-15017335351480015992013-12-09T17:16:00.000-05:002013-12-09T17:16:21.520-05:00How to Understand Teenagers <div style="text-align: center;">
<b>How to Understand Teenagers</b></div>
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A short post for the National Day to Reclaim Education</div>
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<i>This was a discussion response I gave in a class that I am taking, and I just want each of you to understand what the average high school student is dealing with and WHY sometimes, it is really NOT their fault...</i></div>
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<i>It's OURS.</i></div>
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While I think that we have always had stress in our lives, I do think that considering how we have created modern convieniences to help (no more needed hunting b/c of grocery store, no tribal invaders b/c of governments, etc.) that we've created an entirely new set of stressors that is ruining to the next generation.</div>
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Sorry, teacher rant coming on...</div>
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Dr. Bic's lecture really hit me. I've taught high school for 13 years and will be beginning my PhD in Education in the spring. During my time as a educator I have not only witnessed how we are ruining children by taking out the stressors in their life when they are young (how fast do MOST parents dash after their seven year old when they fall on the playground. Personal experience, when I yell 'You ok?' I have HAD other parents say nasty things to me) only to apply so much unnatural and unneeded stress when they reach high school. After they've had their hands held for YEARS in high school we ask the following:</div>
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<li>Take 7-8 classes a year, as hard as possible, knowing that AP & IB classes are set up like college classes with same workload (whereas in most colleges you would only take 4 at a time....this is TWICE AS MUCH). = 6 hours or so in school + 2 hours or so homework (I'm being VERY conservative here) so 8 hours a day or 40 hours a week.</li>
<li>Hold a job. Otherwise you're leeching off of your parents. = 15-20 hours a week, but let's say 15 to be conservative.</li>
<li>Play a sport. Now, since adults are so involved in college athletics on a financial level (and yes, I AM an educator, I am aware of the scholarships but I think we are losing focus). = 10 hours a week plus games, again, conservative, I only ran track in high school and helped with that coaching and it was more than this for TRACK.</li>
<li>Do a club or something 'art' like. Trying to be conservative here, but my kid's godmother is the Band Director. They practice outside of class about 6-8 hours a week, but let's say 5.</li>
<li>Community Service because all college applications say you need community service. Again, let's be conservative and say 1-2 hours a week.</li>
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So far we are at? 72 hours a week. 72!!! Now, to top it off young people are recommended to get 8-9 hours of sleep a night. Let's add that to it. We're at 128. Now, let's take into account meals, maybe 2 hours a day? We're at 142. Travel time, since most of these kids are not homeschooled and have to get to jobs. Let's say and hour a day, maybe 6 days a week. We're at 148. Getting dressed, showering, getting ready?? Another hour a day?? We're at 155.</div>
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155!!</div>
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That leaves young people only 13 hours a week to decompress! Let's not mention that in the AP/IB classes, the sports, the art activities, they MUST be #1 to get into college!! #1!! Add that pressure.</div>
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No wonder our kids are so messed up.</div>
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If this keeps up, we are going to create a generation that can't handle anything, if we haven't done so already. They're not taught any skills to deal with real problems and then we toss them into this disaster with no training.</div>
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<em>*Sigh*</em></div>
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Maybe getting my PhD I can help to fix this insanity.</div>
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It's a nice thought anyways. </div>
ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-52357245357736787692013-11-27T20:19:00.001-05:002013-11-27T20:19:10.885-05:00The Truth About Failure<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/advk2vO4zdw" width="459"></iframe>ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-4452317650069508302013-11-22T09:48:00.000-05:002013-11-22T09:48:16.819-05:00How to Write Good Drama<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>How to Write Good Drama</b></div>
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<i>Subtitle: Thanks Shonda</i></div>
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For as much as I enjoy certain Canadian actors, I'm sorry but Grey's Anatomy will always be the absolute best medical drama on TV.<br />
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Why you ask?<br />
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Because of all the medical dramas on television, it's the one that's the most mature, has grown the most, and by mature I mean that it parallels what we go through in real life as opposed to just showing skin for ratings. Even when we see the ridiculous medical cases it still doesn't lose the message of humanity that each and every episode manages to express. I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm in my 30s I didn't spend my 20s pining for a man, worried about my biological clock or anything else the television says that we should be doing during that formative decade. I married one of my best friends from college (remember, Hot Roommate) not because I was desperate for a man but because we clicked and we figured out that we had the same goals in life. Seemed only natural that we could spend the rest of our lives together and 13 years as a couple and 10 years of marriage later we figured we made a pretty damn good choice.<br />
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Yet most shows on television make me feel like something is wrong with me. Evidently, I should've spent my 20s sleeping around, trying to figure out who is with who, bed hopping with my friends, or trying to cut other people's throats for a high-powered career all before the age of forty because I'm a woman and no one wants a woman who is not in her twenties, a size two, and squeaks when she giggles. Don't get me wrong, my career's in education and trust me I saw a lot of teachers sleeping with anything that moved and cutting anyone's throats to get ahead in our field but it just wasn't something that ever appealed to me. I just like being nice to other people and I just wanted to do my job.<br />
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And that's where Grey's Anatomy comes in because I honestly have to say the Meredith Grey is one of my favorite female characters ever on television. Number one she's not perfect. Yes Ellen Pompeo is thin but she's not by any stretch of the imagination a typical on TV beauty, in fact, in my opinion she looks kind of like everyone else, pretty but no Scarlett Johansen. Her background story is sad, but not horribly sad; she didn't live on the streets, she wasn't destitute, but she did have a strange and strained relationship with her parents. Not that my mother was a famous professional but the parallels between our lives are the same, or enough to hold my interest. Meredith does the best she can through school; she's not quite the number one in her class, she might not even be the number two, but she's good and she does have talent so she's stuck somewhere in the top middle. Again I can totally relate to that, in everything I do I always encounter that person that's just a wee bit better and likes to rub that little bit in my face. Meredith finds a job and meets the demand of romance, of course since most modern television has to be about who's hooking up with who rather than just actual real life. Mer falls for married Dr. Sheppard and there's that whole love affair mess, but the story solves itself rather quickly by modern TV standards, with a post it note wedding no less (How empowering!!) That said and done, Meredith and Derek(Dr. Sheppard) fall comfortably into a relationship together that I love because while it's steamy and romantic at times, most of the time they're just best friends who can bounce ideas off of each other and have fights like NORMAL couples, and not stupid dramatic 'You looked at your ex and now I toss my hair in frustration bullshit.' Not to mention the coparenting that they're doing now is not only hilarious but I feel like someone has a hidden camera in me & Hot Roomate's house and putting it on TV.<br />
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Outside of Meredith's relationship is her role in society which so few shows take the time to really examine. Meredith is questioning her role as a mother; she wants to be a better mother than her own but she also doesn't want to lose herself in motherhood as I have seen so many women do. It's something I face every day; I'd like to work myself up to a career in the Department of Education but I also want to be a good mom to my kids so it's a tough balance. Meredith has also reached a point in her life where she is starting to see differences between her idea of success and the ideas of success that some of her close friends and even family members or pseudo-family may have that's causing a different kind of conflict, one that doesn't involve whining and romance but instead involves a true self-examination.<br />
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This season Meredith is truly understanding what it is to become a mother and watching herself turn into her own, which is her greatest fear. I think that's the greatest year of a lot of us who may have had a different mother/daughter relationship. Am my own person or my becoming the person that made me? Watching Meredith and Christina's relationship fall apart this season as well is heart-wrentching but life, as we choose to go down different paths, but makes a point I think a lot of mature adults can appreciate. As the show has progressed, we see a different Meredith, not some love struck intern but an adult and one who's trying to figure out what it really is to be Meredith Grey.<br />
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It's for that reason alone I'm watching the show, to be honest, I'm not even paying attention to the rest of the bed hopping and boo-bho is so-and-so gonna get with so-and-so. I think we need more shows like that on TV and just more of this type of story in all media experience. I love escapism, don't get me wrong, Daniel Jackson is my escape every night of the week from the stress of life but when I do want to watch a real-life drama I want to watch a real-life drama and most people are not sleeping with everyone they work with and just because a couple hits a rough patch they don't just get a divorce and move on to another character. I'm not kidding myself, I know that Grey's does a little of that to keep the ratings for the people who cannot go beyond 'coupling' in their entertainment, but Meredith Grey's story is real life and I applaud the writers for making sure to include that in the story, hell, make it the main story. It's a story of how we fight to be better than our parents, how we fight because none of us is ever number one, that we are never the best and we can only be the best we can be, how we fight for our family and we start to lose ourselves because of that family and how we fight to get ourselves back.<br />
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I've got to say I love her and I will watch the show until Meredith Grey is either no longer on it, which considering it's named after her I don't see that happening until it's canceled.<br />
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Anyway just my thoughts but Shonda Rimes thank you for making every Thursday for me entertaining and enlightening.<br />
<br />
<br />ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-31122974165486632692013-11-21T15:05:00.001-05:002013-11-21T15:05:40.498-05:00I ran a marathon<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/haAvS64QCug" width="459"></iframe>ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1815313941987272167.post-16752192919379228822013-11-18T07:56:00.001-05:002013-11-18T07:56:12.892-05:00How to run a Marathon<div style="color: #323333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">How to Run a Marathon</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Subtitle: I really can't believe it did it. </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s Sunday and Hot Roommate and I have just dropped off two of my many unlikely friends that I’ve made these past two years. For the first time I didn’t cry, though it might have been dehydration, but I’m leaning more toward the fact that we’re choosing as friends to no longer sit around and say I wish and I hope; we’re making seeing each other happen. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But that’s another story that shall be told in another blog :P</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I ran a marathon. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Now, for the sake of those people who do not seem to understand what a marathon really is and are living under the mistaken impression that runners run these things to win them, my time was 05:46:07, slower than I would have liked, but I finished. Not only does this give me a baseline for improvement should I do this again, but I didn’t need to really walk more than a few feet until Mile 22 1/2 primarily because I was scared of straining my calf muscles. It was a wise choice, I finished with no severe injuries, some chafing and lots of blisters but no pulls so I can continue to run during the winter season. Ok, that’s taken care of...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I ran a marathon, and there are some things I don’t want to ever forget for as long as I live.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have to start with the rain. I’m freaking out about it, will I get hurt, will my signatures run, but the rain turns out to be a blessing. They say when it rains on your wedding day that’s a sign of good luck so when it started to pour down on me as I ran past the one mile marker, I KNEW it was a sign. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It was at that point that I knew that I could finish. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There will be no wall, there will be no crash, no more negative thoughts because this is here and this is happening and when I finish mile one I decide I’m gonna to tag every mile sign that I can and celebrate every single mile completed because I know I’m gonna to finish. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Around mile 3 I got out of my head. See normally when I run I put on my music and slip into Daniel & Addy (my Stargate OC fanfic that I write for anyone that doesn’t know - it’s my escape from reality) and tune out the world. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Today I didn’t need them. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I leave my headphones on just in case I needed a boost, the song du jour being Timber by Ke$ha and Pitbull (don’t judge) but I start to look around and enjoy the marathon. I’m actually beginning to tear up writing this because it was at mile three I understand why people run marathons and why I was running a marathon. I was in a slow wave which was ok because the people I was surrounded by were the ones that taught me what this is all about.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One of the first things I notice is all the cancer survivors. I think I notice them because I have so many friends who are fighting cancer right now. There’s a young man who has “Save the Tatas” written all over EVERYTHING. He’s running with this woman who looks like his mother, and is wearing matching clothing. Well, I assume it’s his mom, and just by body language and the way they’re dressed I’m thinking she might be a breast cancer survivor. At that moment I’m thinking of all of my friends who have fought breast cancer, who are fighting breast cancer and of my kick ass Granny who kicked its ass. Turn the corner off of Broad Street, I see a girl, probably mid-20‘s wearing a yellow shirt, a handwritten message on the back. It read: 2<i>011 cancer, 2012 remission, 2013 Anthem Richmond Marathon.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At that point I realize the marathon isn’t about bragging rights or anything else. It’s about fighting back when you didn’t think you had any fight left because every single week of training I wanted to quit and I never had to fight cancer. Their fight inspires me to keep pushing. Here, at about mile 3, the first round of tears have started. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I hit 10k, 6.24 miles for anyone that doesn’t know (I didn’t till I started doing them) it hits me that I only have 20 more miles which is the most I have ever trained to do. The race is passing, fast in my mind at least, now all I have to do is the run I did a few weeks ago. Hot Roommate saw me do it and Nerd Boy’s “Girlfriend’s” Mom who is also a new cool as hell friend saw me do it too, so, it’s doable. And, I’m leaving behind the distance of the Monument Avenue 10K my FAVORITE race ever and I start planning my training team in my head because people, we’re gonna do this, together, come hell or high water. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The ranks are thinning. Some that started in my wave are much faster and are so far ahead that I’ll never catch them. Others burnt themselves out the first 10K and are walking already. I haven’t slowed yet, not that I’m fast but pace, pace, I keep repeating the manta. I find the Ginger Ninja, a short red headed guy on the training team. I love his shirt, that’s how I know he’s the Ginger Ninja because his shirt says so and he screams as I’m ‘Popping my Marathon Cherry’ because that’s what my shirt says. We keep yelling for each other if one of us falls behind. He’s a complete stranger but it doesn’t matter, no one here with me is a stranger right now, not the girl who is stopping me to fix the name tag on my butt, not the girl I’m offering fuel to, we’re a family for the next, now, less than 20 miles. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I see a pink boa ahead and scream! It’s Blair, who encouraged me to do this. He’s one of the Marathon Training Team coaches, and he told me that If I could train myself to run a half marathon I had the discipline to do the same for a full since I live so far from any training teams. He yells out for me and he introduces me to other MTT members: ‘This is Bri and she trained herself. You all look out for her for me.’</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I tear up again, I’m not one of ‘his’, but right now I am. He high fives me and gives me some advice to help with my first bridge before jogging on to find more runners.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Mile 7 and I’m still tagging my markers. I see the party stop ahead and an ambulance TEARING down the hill approaching the course. One of us is down and my heart stops. Please let them be ok I think because I’m just starting to hurt and what’s keeping me going is tweets and texts popping up on my wrist case for my phone, that these people believe in me, and that could just as easily be me. I glance right, reach out to slap some outstretched hands, again of strangers, and see a familiar face. Anna!! I break stride and reach to grab her hands. This is just the first of my amazing friends to show up and I had no idea that she was coming. I push on, there will be others, and need to have faith that my fellow runner will be taken care of. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mile Seven - A Stupid Grin as I see Anna!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m in the Southside of Richmond now and feeling comfortable. I’ve run this race before with Betsy, I know this course, this is the Stratford Hills 5 miler or at least part of it. I can enjoy the river and the sights. Time to cruise, I’m passing mile 8, my favorite mile.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I scream at mile 9 and I hear my mom’s voice in my head telling me I should walk a mile but I feel too good to. Sorry mommy, I’ll walk when I have to I swear. I don’t just scream and tag mile 9 however, I have a specific scream: ‘Go to hell Dr. K!’ Dr. K was my old MD who told me after my karate injuries that pretty much being fat and sedentary was going to be my destiny. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I dedicate that mile to you, because <b>you were wrong</b>. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m running a marathon.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I do have to power walk up the same hill that I had to in the Stratford Hills 5 miler. My hip is being good I don’t want to push it, I walk fast and I need to preserve my muscles because at this point I can be honest with you guys. Up until race day my hip still hurt, as did my left thigh, my left knee (this is my bad leg from Karate) and my neck (Yeah Jodie I think I did worse than sleep wrong, don’t fuss, I can already hear you in my head) but when I woke up this morning I didn’t hurt and I want it to stay that way.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">All of a sudden I’m at mile 10. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And for some reason that doesn’t seem to be that horrible. I’m on pace by the time I reach mile 11 on Forest Hill Avenue and now I’m looking around for Flor, who’s there, at mile 12 as promised screaming her head off like a fool and passing over a cup of water. I jump and hug her and kiss her as per Bri usual and tell her to power walk with me since I now need to fuel. She declines but I didn’t hear why until she tweeted me later. She was made an honorary volunteer at the water stop and she worked for an hour. That’s just awesome. We need volunteers, even if it’s just to hold a sign. Some of my favorites: </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Chuck Norris Never Ran a Marathon.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Just think: You’re running better than the government. </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Complete and Total Stranger; you’re my HERO.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Justin Timberlake is at the finish, waiting to kiss you (<---- We all know how I changed THAT sign in my head, don’t we :P )</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Not much longer and then you can make people bring you beers. (<----I was ALL over that one)</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>REMEMBER the reasons that you are doing this. </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>There’s someone at the finish that loves and believes in you. </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">These mean the world to me, these signs, every cup of water and every candy bar passed along the way and I’m sure everyone else too.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Shortly after I pass her I hear screaming from a mini-van on the side of the road, and I look over to see. It’s some half marathoners who have come back to support us and I know this by their signs:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> <i>We just ran the 1/2 marathon because we’re only 1/2 crazy. We can’t explain you guys. Why don’t you get a cab?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I wanna know when Jodie called these people.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At 13.1 there’s cheering, because apparently in my little group we’ve made here there are a lot of half marathoners like me that thought this would be a good idea. We would have normally finished by now but we have a whole ‘nother one to go.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I meet another half marathoner who upgraded to the marathon yesterday, YESTERDAY, and I realize that she’s the same girl who fixed the name tag on my butt at mile 2. She tells me that 6 years ago she weighed 70 pounds more and was depressed. I tell her a short version of my own story <a href="http://brisayshowto.blogspot.com/2012/07/how-to-change-your-stars.html" target="_blank">(Click here if you are new to this crazy train, I can explain tha</a>t) and we’re now sisters in this even though I never got her name. In this names don’t matter, we still act as if we have know each other for our entire lives.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m closing in on the Belvidere Bridge, and I’ve been told it’s the worst. It’s a mile long. I decide to walk for just a touch because my calves hurt, and alternate and stretch as needed. Lightly jogging I call my Granny who is screaming through her whole house that Brianne is at mile 16. She tells me to keep going and call her when I finish, so I chat with first timers (yes we are chatting and running, hell we eat and drink and run, chatting is nothing) and a veteran who tells me it’s a shame I don’t live closer as she would love to train with me and I need to do the Marine Corp marathon. We’re slow but we don’t care because it is mile 16 and we’re going to finish. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We’ve got this. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">By mile 17 my friends and family are there, Hot Roommate, Adorable Nerd Boy and my Fashionista-in-Training, Hannah, LaVerne (who FLEW here for me, one from ANOTHER COUNTRY) and Dawn who drove <b>14 hours straight</b> with her dog from CANADA to surprise me. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m still not over that, I’m tearing up right now typing this. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I love you guys so very much.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I kiss my kids who have water for me, and hug my friends the best I can and continue on, because at mile 17 I have decided that I want to do this again. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Somewhere between miles 18 and 19 I hear more screaming and my friend and fellow Spanish teacher Sarah jumps in, hugging me and pushing me onward. She says I’m looking great and is acting like I’ve already finished the race telling me that I’ve gotten through the tough part. It gives me strength. After Sarah peels off, running a whole block with me and lagging behind screaming, the other runner that I’ve met on the race course are now looking at me asking me how many people I have here. I list them, <b>all of them</b>, and where they’ve come from and show them the tweets and texts on my phone from those with me in spirit. One girl looks at me and says, “Do you realize how lucky you are to have those kind of friends?” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">More crying. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yeah I do, I really do...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My mom is right before mile 20. My mom who has been through <b>hell </b>this year runs at least a 1/4 of mile with me, if not more in jeans, after she was in a CAR WRECK. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mom & I run the Boulevard.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My sister has all of her college friends here too and they’re screaming like idiots even though I only met these kids a few months ago. It’s pretty cool. I guess once a Yellow Jacket always a Yellow Jacket (my sister goes to my alma mater ;) ). They disappear into the distance and the same woman from before asks me who they were and I tell her. She just says you are so lucky and keeps running. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At the mile 20 water station, I know my cousin is working here as a volunteer so I scan down the line. I see her before she sees me and I jog right up to her, telling her that one is mine. It takes her a second, but then she realizes it’s me that she’s passing over the Powerade to. She’s now screaming ‘That’s my cousin!!’ and jumping up and down. I wish I could stay longer to thank her but I have to keep running because this is the part that counts, this is the part that tests yours limits. The race starts here, and now we’re racing against our own will. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Mile 20 1/2 there’s my son’s teacher. She didn’t need to come out here, my son is just a kid in her class and I’m the room mom, but she’s there nonetheless with her baby screaming like a fool. It is AWESOME. Smiling, I keep running. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At this point in the race I’ve seen two ambulances. I’ve seen two people quit. The girl behind me just sprained her ankle but she won’t give up. On this course we take care of each other. If someone hurts you offer Advil. If someone is hungry we pass over Gu. No one cares that we’re complete strangers. We pass things off and just keep running. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Somewhere between 22 and 23 my calves are threatening to quit and I don’t mean pain, I mean I may lose the ability to walk. I stop and stretch. I don’t want to quit this race but I’m really scared that I might pull something, so I step to the side and stretch and decide to walk for a bit, planning to reevaluate at every 1/2 mile marker. I meet a girl who is doing the same although her issue is her knee. This is her first marathon too. She was also a competitive martial arts fighter so we talk and exchange horror stories and together work through our pain and injury. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I didn’t want to walk this much but I also want to finish the marathon and not go to the hospital. She and I continue to stretch, walking and talking. The friends I met along the way? We’re all together now. We don’t each others names. I could give you numbers and shirt colors. I can tell whether or not they are on the marathon training team but I couldn’t tell you who they ARE, but somehow we’ve managed to stay together for 5 hours. Most of us are limping. Some of us are crying, not in joy, but in absolute pain. Regardless, we make a vow: At mile 25 all of us are gonna to run together to the finish the best we can, pain or not. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And there it is, I don’t even see the number, but I know because I remember the corner, it’s the same as the half marathon. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s over. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I did it. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I scream and we all take off running, maybe faster than I should have considering my calves. We manage to stay together pretty much for the entire trek down hill but I lose it completely as I see mile 26. I want to cry harder but I’m too dehydrated to produce any more tears, but the bystanders see me crying and they get it. They’re screaming my name and telling me that I did it; just cross the finish line. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">See the finish line? </span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I hear my name to the left and it’s one of my best friends, Dev, who never misses anything I ever do. And he doesn’t run either, but as soon as I pass him I see him running down to the finish line to be there. Yeah, he ran :P; I saw him do it. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I hear more screaming and there is the Mile 17 ‘Friends and Family’ crew and my mother in law and apparently another cousin, who I didn’t even know was coming, another amazing surprise.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And it’s over, this odyssey that I began what seems like light years ago and before I know it I’ve crossed the finish line, in tears. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJXBlsxJCMe2PkpxTP3afiTanABzkCUkOPFcTDf_IvXSdDbXAqUQMJ8xBw45eDYDe_Zh8OnDAm_mBYkVXNzizrT9GsT-JwUj7-9JtxQqdRQFub7iQ7IrAg7VpnIo3XwB9PBf8NpSiivjr/s1600/The+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJXBlsxJCMe2PkpxTP3afiTanABzkCUkOPFcTDf_IvXSdDbXAqUQMJ8xBw45eDYDe_Zh8OnDAm_mBYkVXNzizrT9GsT-JwUj7-9JtxQqdRQFub7iQ7IrAg7VpnIo3XwB9PBf8NpSiivjr/s1600/The+Finish.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the Finish Line. It's OVER!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I did it. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">...and it didn’t matter how fast it was. None of us will always be the best, but we can be the best <b>us</b>. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My best me just ran a marathon.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">People ask me if I ever give up. I did once, but I learned, the hard way, that you never give up, no matter what stands in your way. </span></div>
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<br />
<span style="color: #323333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Sometimes not even then</i></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: Helvetica Neue;"><i>…</i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqy5UL4iWYMAK6bab89KCkyG50ZOq9h_Sa-zHp72usxuXNmotJHAlyY0qbbGreZDVGh_HCkFWhgolZNrmDWQ2vKxa97m3VkyUxysITg5kspRPgMjd0zqXidffQbn2DKJSyaM-6LbnXsDI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-11-18+at+7.45.29+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqy5UL4iWYMAK6bab89KCkyG50ZOq9h_Sa-zHp72usxuXNmotJHAlyY0qbbGreZDVGh_HCkFWhgolZNrmDWQ2vKxa97m3VkyUxysITg5kspRPgMjd0zqXidffQbn2DKJSyaM-6LbnXsDI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-11-18+at+7.45.29+AM.png" height="191" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The New Ink. </span></td></tr>
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ladiosabrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04354226145006139165noreply@blogger.com4