<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028</id><updated>2011-07-28T22:28:57.083-07:00</updated><category term='inner light'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='Back to School'/><category term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Bab's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>Life is Interesting</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-2802027456362837247</id><published>2010-07-16T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T13:55:07.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Greatest Crime: Being Single in an LDS World</title><content type='html'>The Greatest Crime:  Being Single in a Mormon World by Barbara Simpson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Mormon, and there is one thing everyone should know about  Mormons:  They believe strongly in the family.  From the time you are  born, you are taught about how important families are.  You go to church  with your family, you support your family through every activity they  have, and you spend every Monday night with your family.      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in  church this is reinforce through lessons on how families can be together  forever.  Teenagers are taught to prepare themselves for the time when  they, too will begin a family. Marriage is this heavenly acquisition  that will complete an individual.  Without a man and women being joined  together through marriage, you are nothing.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you need to know  something about me.  I am 29 and single.  In the rest of the world, this  is not a big deal, but to a Mormon society, I might as well be the town  drunk.  Through out the years, my friends and I have received a lot of  advice.  Now looking back on my life had I heeded the advice, I may not  be in the dire situation that I am in.   If you find yourself in this  unfortunate state, here is a timeline of what to expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ages 18-21     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since birth, Mormons have been primed to believe that they will find  the one and only between the ages of 18-21.  You have two camps.   The  first believe that the sooner you get married the better.  This group  feels that school is just a means of finding a husband.  They know that  once their knight in shining armor has returned from his mission, they  will date for a couple of weeks and know that true love has come.  He  will propose within a month and you will abandon your education. For,  why would you need to spend the time and money on something that will  get in the way of having children?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second camp believes you  should hold out as long as you can.  It is much better to marry when you  are older, such as 20 or 21.  This way you can complete your schooling.   School is important to these people because they are more practical.   They still plan on staying home with the kids, but at least they will  have an education in case "something happens" (but of course it won’t  because they will be protected by their marriage sanctioned by God and  their decision to be practical in waiting to be married until they were  older).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ages  21-23    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some in the LDS world are not married by 21.   Slowly, a darkness fills these people.  Doubt and despair emerge into  their lives.  They secretly think, “Whatever happens, please don’t let  me graduate with out a husband.  My dreams of carrying a baby across the  stage in a cute cap and gown are gone.  What will I do if the man that  was promised to me in the pre-existence isn’t there to celebrate my  victory with me?  And worse yet, what will I do after graduation?”      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point you only have three choices.  The first is a mission.  In  our church, they allow women to go on missions at the age of 21.  They  can’t go at 19 like the men, because, well no one really knows why.  My  personal opinion is that it’s too risky.  My friends and I have been  told that if you don’t get married by 25, you have to be the second hand  wife. That gives a girl only 7 years to find a husband. From 18-21 is  the prime time, and the overtime is 22-24.  If we send a woman on a  mission from 19-21 we have just knocked out two years of the prime time,  which leaves her with one year to find a spouse.  With the overtime she  is left with five years, and let's be honest, some girls are really in  need of the full seven.  The other problem with this is some girls get  it in their minds that they "want to go on a mission."  One Bishop  pointed out to my friend that she was confusing her feelings of wanting  to go on a mission with wanting to be married.  This is a common mistake  with women.  They easily get their feelings all mixed up and don’t  really know what they want for themselves.  Those at 18 are so naive and  they may actually lose of year of potential wedlock because they are  "waiting to go on a mission."  If a girl has to wait the extra 2 years,  there is a high probability that her prince charming will come in and  sweep her off her feet before she has a chance to go on the mission.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 21 you, can choose to go on a mission, but there are some risks  involved.  There are two types of men out there.  Those that want to  marry a returned missionary and those who will not marry a returned  missionary.  One of my guys friends told me that one way to ensure I  would never get married was if I went on a mission or I went to graduate  school.  Seeing as I was only 20, I did not think to inquire more about  this issue, but luckily, I have another friend who was enlightened by  another male.  He said that he wants to make sure he is the senior  companion in the marriage.  It make sense.  The man needs to be more  intellectually capable because he will be providing for the family.  It  also poses a threat to his manliness to have a woman who knows as much  as he does.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some men who will only marry a returned  missionary.  These men see a bigger picture.  One boy commented that he  needed to stop dating intellectually hollow individuals because he was  going to be a doctor.  He knew that majority of his time would be spent  away from the home because of his career choice.  As a result, his wife  would be the person raising his 8 future missionary boys.  Without his  constant presence, he would need a woman who could fill his shoes  intellectually.  This can only be accomplished by a woman who has  faithfully served a mission.  Her training in that year and a half will  be vital in preparing his army of Helaman.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a girl at this point  chooses not to go on a mission, she can either go to graduate school or  enter the work force.  Either choice is risky.  While going to grad  school seems like a safe choice because you are just extending your  education to give you more time to find a husband, it can also be a  detriment.  As I said earlier, I was told by a boy that one of ways to  ensure you would never get married was to go to grad school.  To get a  higher degree, means that you have to think more intellectually.  Women  begin to get ideas of independence.  They form opinions, which can  complicate a marriage.  If a woman thinks too freely, the marriage ends  up being a compromise of two people.  It becomes a sticky mess of  working together, arguments, and a disruption of a happy home life. It's  much better for a woman to be submissive.  Allowing a woman to go to  grad school opens up Pandora's box.  In addition to this extra stress on  a marriage, my wise friend who also let me know that it is a waste of  money.  My graduate school cost me almost 10 grand.  It was so stupid of  me to waste that money when I will only be staying home with children  after I get married.  For that price I could have paid for one of my  sons to go on a mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are wise and don't go to graduate  school, you can enter the work force.  This is a mystical place for the  woman.  You are required to think, contribute, and develop as a  person.  You begin to work harder than you ever have before.  You have  to find a clear balance of not being bitter because you aren't married  and have to work, and not liking your work too much.  Liking to work  shows that you if you do get married, you might create the greatest sin  of all that that is to be a working mother (not out of necessity, but  because you want to).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ages 25-27    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends was told at the  age of 24 she should get use to the idea of being single her entire  life.  Another friend was  told (referring to those who were 27 or older  and still single), "I don't even know why those people even bother  going to church.  Haven't they realized that it's not going to work out  for them?" This is a controversial topic because many people believe we  should not give up on getting married.  In fact, many of us have been  reprimanded for being so selfish as to be single.  However, there are  still bishops, parents, grandmothers, and married friends who still  plead for our desperate attempts to find love.      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At weddings,  relatives give the reassuring comment of "you'll probably be the next  one."   And even though you've heard it 23 times, it reassures you that  you may be the next one to marry.  And don't forget the aunt who makes  sure you can participate in the bouquet toss.  Maybe that 6th bouquet  you catch will be the one that actually works.      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though the older  single person may say he or she doesn't want to be set up on blind  dates, they are just being modest.  There is nothing better than going  date with a person you don't know.  They are attractive in God's eyes,  and their quirky personality makes them extra unique.  Besides, people  who are older and single haven't figured it out, and they are going to  need a little extra guidance if anything is going to work.  The only  precursor for setting these people up is that they are older and  single.  Because of course, if you are both older and single, it must be  a match made in heaven.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably one of the best things that a  bishop to help the lost souls is to set up a dating panel.   A panel of  5-8 men sits in the front of Relief Society and the women get to ask  them questions.  All frustrations of both sexes are exposed, addressed,  and then the women know what they need to change about themselves so  they are asked on a date.  One of the most beneficial comments was from a  panel member who shared with us a list about what he and his roommates  would like to see in their future wives.  I found out from this that I  needed to learn to bike, run, hike, camp, kayak, get a dog, play the  piano, sing, be pretty but not high maintenance, be smart but not too  smart, dress sexy but not immodest, etc.   Finally, I was given a list  that was concrete enough to help me with dating.  In addition to the  list of everything that was wrong with us as women, we also were  reassured that the men were dating a on a regular basis.  Now it was  clear, since the men were dating on a regular basis (at least once a  week) if we weren't being asked out, it was because we weren't doing  something right on the future wives list.  In the end, I knew exactly  how to start dating more, and I felt spiritually uplifted during church  that day because I was on my way to find my future husband.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ages  28-31   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; At this point the older single person no longer will be set up  on blind dates.  Though family and friends still pray for the day when  we will be delivered from this evil hold, they somewhat lose faith as  well.  What will you do at this point?  You will see in church that  every day there are more and more girls, and less and less boys.  Eventually, your ward will turn into a woman ward where the bishopric  has to pass the sacrament because there are not enough boys    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this  point in life there is one thing left to do.  One thing that makes the  hearts of grown men shutter.  One thing that goes against all that is  good and virtuous.  One thing that even the prophets have warned  against.  The thing that must be done in secrecy in the quietness of the  night, never to be exposed to mankind.  Yes, it is ONLINE DATING.   Before you embark on this journey, let me warn you of the dangers.   First of all, President Oaks condemned this practice by saying that you  shouldn't shop for a spouse through the Internet.  Some may choose to  ignore this warning.  They claim, “Hey we’re not dating online, we only  met online.” One word of warning, if you do choose to go down this path,  keep it a secret.  Any questioning of religious authority places you in  the untouchable category. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ages 31 to Eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not  to this stage, but I am close.  I don't know a lot about it, but I have  some friends who have crossed over to the other side.  At this point,  not only have friends and family members given up on you.  The one thing  that had your back has also given up on you.  Yes, the church has  deemed you a failure.  No longer will you be able to attend those ward  prayers.  No longer is there a Family Home Evening group.  No longer  will you be allowed to go to church and hit on whatever guy you want  to.  You will walk soberly back into a chapel of crying children and  rebellious teenagers. The parents hold their children close as you walk  into their beloved church.  "See children, if you are too selfish, that  can happen to you."   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consequences of Being Single&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I hope no  one has to endure what I've endured.  Because of my spare time I've been  forced into developing talents like piano playing, photography, rock  climbing, framing, and running.  I've had to go to plays on Broadway,  light prayer candles in Cathedrals in England, listen to chanting in the  Notre Dame Cathedral, bargain with merchants in Mexico and Guatemala,  kayak to secluded beaches in New Zealand, stand alone on the beaches of  Mexico, wander the markets in Germany, and contemplate the meaning of  life in Westminster Abby.  I've had to buy my own home and not have  someone else tell me how to decorate it.  And I've had to develop my  career to the point were I've had to present at several conferences.   Yes, I've been forced to endure all these things because I was  single.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why I wrote this piece?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    After one  particular stupid piece of advice my friend got, she came home and said,  “I’m going to write a book about being single.”  The rest of us in the  room thought this was a great idea and brainstormed for hours about what  could go into the book.  I told her that she really did need to write,  but she never did.  When I found out about this assignment, I knew this  was the topic I wanted to write about.  Every thing in this piece is  true.  Nothing has been made up.  I think if people only knew how they  sounded before they made a stupid comment, they’d be a little more  compassionate next time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-2802027456362837247?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2802027456362837247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=2802027456362837247' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/2802027456362837247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/2802027456362837247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2010/07/greatest-crime-being-single-in-lds.html' title='The Greatest Crime: Being Single in an LDS World'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-8216265704844710497</id><published>2010-04-17T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T23:23:38.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Memories of My Life</title><content type='html'>Believing that Santa was in my house because I heard his bells (or my sisters diaper swooshing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating a carton of ice cream with my family for family home evening&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to my Grandma's for breakfast for the 4th of July&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom making a Barbie dresses for Julie and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends and I creating our own Babysitter's Club&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going with my Aunt to Knott's Berry Farm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picking huckleberries at Priest Lake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally getting up on water skiis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exploring the forest at Priest Lake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Lagoon in Junior High with my friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating pancakes as a regular meal in college&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making Fajitas with Heidi and watching people from our apartment and timing them as they crossed the street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going skiing with my roommates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reteaching myself how to play the piano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying because I had no money and they wouldn't even take my blood for a source of income (listening to the Land Before Time soundtrack to make me and Maryn feel better)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking our couch outside to watch a movie in the courtyard of Cinnamon Tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating Japanese food for a semester every night for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Apt 34 until midnight, then IMing until 1:30 and then going out to Los Albertos for a midnight snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chaos at Midnight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Les Miserable in the Curan Theatre in San Fransisco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking through the Nauvoo Temple after taking a class on the life of Joseph Smith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the top of a climb with out stopping for a break in rock climbing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first 5K&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to magic mountain with my friends from Cinnamon Tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuddling for the first time with my first boyfriend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kissing after looking up at the stars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating at a restaurant on the side of the road in Guatemala while we drank out of glass coke bottles and listened to people performing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swimming in blue-green water in Guatemala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking my first amazing photo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first yoga class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking through the streets of New York City&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Wicked on Broadway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking through Mount Holyoke, Massachusetts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking by old houses in Rhode Island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Kids on the Block Concert when I was  27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gambling with Jessie and Zach in Las Vegas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to a boys choir sing in Westminister Abby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my all time favorite painting in the National Gallery and seeing Jesus London Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Zach talk to the druids at Stonehenge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lighting a candle in the Salisbury Cathedral&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to the chanting in the Notre Dame Cathedral&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating at a French Bakery and listening to people perform as we ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking through Montemarte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching the Bastille Day fireworks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating at an Italian restaurant in Paris after a long day at the Louvre, Effiel Tower, and Statue of Liberty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing in front of the Pantheon, standing in the Colosseum, and seeing the "School of Athens."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching a sunset in Sorrento, Italy and eating gelato and pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking through a concentration camp in Germany&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the side of the street in Munich, Germany&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first time snorkeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to "I Wanna Know What Love Is," while sitting all alone on the Beach in Cancun Mexico as the warm bright blue water rushed over my feet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-8216265704844710497?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8216265704844710497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=8216265704844710497' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/8216265704844710497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/8216265704844710497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2010/04/top-memories-of-my-life.html' title='Top Memories of My Life'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-5739191492551389070</id><published>2010-02-07T08:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:32:19.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Superstitious or Realizing that there are Patterns in My Life?</title><content type='html'>I've recently realized that I am somewhat superstitious.  I've come to accept the fact that bad things will happen to me at certain times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example 1:  January&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every bad thing that happens to me happens in January.  Every other year it is a personal thing, and every other year it is something to do with work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007: My para went ballistic on me.&lt;br /&gt;2008:  My boyfriend broke up with me.&lt;br /&gt;2009:I had a parent raise all heck for me.&lt;br /&gt;2010: I got Diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example 2: Odd and Even Birthdays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every age that is odd, I have a good birthday.  Every age that ends with an even number is a good birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've blocked most of these experiences, but one I remember this year when I turned 28, I got into an accident with my new yellow truck. Case closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some may say these things are superstitious, but I feel like I'm just calling it like I see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-5739191492551389070?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5739191492551389070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=5739191492551389070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5739191492551389070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5739191492551389070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2010/02/superstitious-or-realizing-that-there.html' title='Superstitious or Realizing that there are Patterns in My Life?'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-644101610584155224</id><published>2010-01-31T16:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:35:54.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventurous 2009</title><content type='html'>I've decided to make a list of all the good and bad things that happened in 2009.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bad things&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I  have forgotten what happened in January, February, but I'm sure there were some not great stuff as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;March&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I nearly killed my self finishing up my thesis for my master's program.  Each week up to that point I was almost in tears because of exhaustion from working and going to school full time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;April&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For my Birthday, I hit another car with my new Yellow Truck.  Luckily, you could barely see the damage on my car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Dad was in the hospital for&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3 weeks with Campliflobacter.  He recovered and was able to make it to my graduation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;June&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My eye doctor discovered that I have no peripheral vision.  The result could have been glocoma or a tumor.  Thankfully, it was neither which only led to an MRI ($600 later).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reality of the strain of my job set in as I began teaching.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Swine flu which lead to several months of not being able to breathe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MRI&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom stepped on a toothpick and nearly died.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;November&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pulmonologist to figure out why I couldn't breathe.  I've been on a regular inhaler since.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;December&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brother got diagnosed with Diabetes which led me to get and exam and to find out that I had it as well.  The medication has caused me to be sicker than I was before I was on the medication.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good Things&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;April&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a great birthday even after I hit another car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I graduated with my masters degree which one of the most amazing things I've ever done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;June&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zach, Jessie, Phinner, and I went to Las Vegas and California and had the time of our lives.  Phinner started walking at Magic Mountain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spend 2 weeks on the Oregon coast where my niece and nephew said their first words of "hola" and "douglas."  We went to an aquarium, sat on the beach, went to a petting zoo where we held baby lions, leopards, and possums.  We ate great sea food and had a fun time with family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I backpacked across Europe with Zach, Shelley, and Camille.  We saw Westminister Abby, Big Ben, Towers of London, Eye of London, a play in Picadilly Circus, Stonehenge, Hampton Court, Salisbury Cathedral, Kensington Park, National Gallery, Arc d' Triomphe, listened to a prayer in the Notre Dame Cathedral, gave money to a gypsy, walked along the Seine River, walked around Montemarte, saw Sacre Coer, saw fireworks on Bastille day (amazing), went to the top of the Eiffel tower, saw the statue of liberty in Paris, went to the Louve, visited the gorgeous place of Sorrento Italy, got pickpocketed, ate the most amazing pizza, had the worlds best ice cream, watched people dance in Italy, saw the Panthenon, Vatican City Museum, saw School of Athens, Sistine Chapel, greek statues, Rafael Paintings, Colloseum, Roman Forum, Trevi Fountain, Castl San Tanglo, took a night train to Germany, saw an Austrian Village, walked in the streets of Munich, drank and ate at a famous beer hall, went to a concentrating camp, learned how to use the railway systems in 4 countries, stayed in hostiles, met people from around the world.  I had the time of my life.  So many of my dreams came true, and I learned so much about myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was reminded why I love teaching.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I began my journey of watching LOST.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to Cancun.  I sat on the warm beach with bluish-green water and listened to "I want to know what love is"remade by Mariah Carey.  I saw the ruins at Tulum and Chich Itza.  I went snorkeling in a cenote and in the ocean, I fed a monkey, held a cocodile, let a bird kiss me, and held a snake, I ate a fish with the head still on it, I bargained with the locals in Spanish, I bought a guitar, I slept in a scary hotel, I rode on buses throughout Mexico, I got drenched in a rainstorm, I went to church in a Spanish speaking branch, and I stayed at a resort.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;November&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I became a registered democrat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;December&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got to spend time with all of my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This has been a crazy year.  It's been hard, and had some great adventures.  As I was in church today, the Bishop said something that rings true to me.  The more you advance in this life, the harder it gets, but the benefits also increase.  Amen.  Here's to 2010.  Hopefully everything will continue to increase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-644101610584155224?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/644101610584155224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=644101610584155224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/644101610584155224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/644101610584155224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2010/01/adventurous-2009.html' title='The Adventurous 2009'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-5624688793504404352</id><published>2009-10-28T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T22:38:07.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sitting on the Beach</title><content type='html'>As I was sitting on the beach in Mexico listening to "I want to know what love is" by Mariah Carey, I realized that I was happy.  When I sat in a meeting at work today about a new computer program that is so complex we have had 4-5 hours of training on it and it is still confusing to people,  I realized I was not happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-5624688793504404352?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5624688793504404352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=5624688793504404352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5624688793504404352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5624688793504404352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2009/10/sitting-on-beach.html' title='Sitting on the Beach'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-5646086531329307326</id><published>2009-08-08T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T19:35:00.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Times the Amounts of Parties</title><content type='html'>When you are older and single you have twice as much fun because you have twice as many parties.  One party for your married friends and one party for your single friends.  But sometimes the single parties aren't fun because people are worried about being married which is a conundrum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-5646086531329307326?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5646086531329307326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=5646086531329307326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5646086531329307326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5646086531329307326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2009/08/2-times-amounts-of-parties.html' title='2 Times the Amounts of Parties'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-2282414421209410429</id><published>2008-10-26T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T14:45:09.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Whenever I do something fun, I feel the need to take pictures.   I don't take the pictures for scrap booking or to show friends and family.  I take the pictures to post them on Facebook.  In fact, I have found that I do a lot of things so I can post it on Facebook.  I somehow feel like it's my validation of being a cool person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't Technology Great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-2282414421209410429?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2282414421209410429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=2282414421209410429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/2282414421209410429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/2282414421209410429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/10/reason-we-d.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-4309097501766247064</id><published>2008-10-18T21:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T21:45:45.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is the Grass Greener on the Other Side?</title><content type='html'>My sister and I are in two very different places in our lives.  She is a young 22 year old with a 3 month old baby.  She was married at 20 and began her family early.  I on the other hand am 27, single, and have chosen to focus on my career.  It is interesting that though the two of us find great pleasure in what we are doing in our lives, we both wish that we could be in the other's shoes.  She longs to be independent, focus on a career, and live the "single carefree life"(which is an imaginary thing).  I on the other hand would give whatever it took to be in her shoes.  I've been down the career path.  I've completed a great deal of schooling and I've had amazing accomplishment.  I've loved it, but at the same time, I would trade all of it to have a family of my own.  We both do realize that what we have is important, but each of us thinks the grass is greener on the other side of the hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though our problems seem completely different, they are the same.  We both struggle with what we think we want.  She sees the stress of a crying baby.  I see the stress of the demands of parents, district, law, and school officials.  She sees me as being independent and doing whatever I want.  I see her as someone who doesn't have worry about being lonely later on in life.  I don't see her stresses for her baby girl, and she doesn't know the aching and sorrow for the children I long to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact is that each of us have an important role to play.  Each of us have a time in life when we feel like we are missing or have missed out on something.  The key to happiness is to realize that God has placed you in the situation you are currently in because you are the only person who can fulfill your mission at that time under the circumstances you have been placed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't stop to enjoy life enough.  We rush and wait for the day for things to take place.  We can't wait for the weekend or until the next hour.  We wish and want so badly for the next experience to take place that we don't take time to be in the moment.  There are so many experiences in life that we lose out on because we are waiting for the next.  So the next time you feel anxious, frustrated, or longing to be in a different situation, stop and enjoy the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-4309097501766247064?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4309097501766247064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=4309097501766247064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/4309097501766247064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/4309097501766247064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-sister-and-i-are-in-two-very.html' title='Is the Grass Greener on the Other Side?'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-8918474474895394234</id><published>2008-08-24T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T19:17:26.848-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Back to School'/><title type='text'>Lest we Forget</title><content type='html'>I once heard that after you give birth, there is an endorphins released in your body to help you forget the pain so you will do it again.  I have come to realize that the same type of endorphins is release into the body during the month of May for teachers. It helps them forget the trauma of teaching, but then the first day of school hits and every teacher wonders, why did sign up for another year?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-8918474474895394234?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8918474474895394234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=8918474474895394234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/8918474474895394234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/8918474474895394234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/08/lest-we-forget.html' title='Lest we Forget'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-2953452515054492103</id><published>2008-08-17T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T08:27:07.398-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inner light'/><title type='text'>The Choice to be Happy</title><content type='html'>Perhaps it's not a novel concept, but we are the ones who choose to be happy or miserable.  We often equate our happiness with the situations around us.  The more we choose to be happier the better our lives will be.&lt;br /&gt;    This week I started back to the grind of getting ready to teach.  While it's exciting to come back, see the teachers and students again, and exciting to create new ways of doing things, it's also really frustrating.   There are a million things to get in place and little time to do them all.  There are new reading programs that only have half arrived.  There are people who refuse to say one way or another about our budget so we don't know who we can hire. There are changes in schedules so one's plans are all negated, and there are new little surprises that are placed on the teachers shoulders that feel like set backs (this year we all got to clean our own rooms because the janitor had quit). To put it mildly, the stress level for everyone is way over the top.&lt;br /&gt;    This week (and the rest of the year) will be stressful.  It always has been and it always will be.  No doubt there will be some nights of crying on my part because if there weren't it wouldn't truly be teaching.  It's hard.  It frustrating, and so many things we know we are suppose to do contradict what we feel like what we need to do.  We always want to do more, but we also need to have a personal life.  We always wonder if we have pushed a kid far enough academically.  We always wonder if had taught it another way if we could have made a little more of a difference.  I work with some amazing teachers, and they all at some point wonder if they couldn't do just a little more. &lt;br /&gt;    With all this stress I've seen two types of reactions.  There is the most common reaction which is to give into the negativity and there is the reaction that leads to it's not fair, it's hard, but we'll do our best.  The fact is you can get frustrated, but it doesn't have to ruin your day.  You can find happiness that is not dependent on your job.  In fact, if you are truly happy and not just feeling a momentary pleasure, your happiness does not come at all from your job, spouse, money, house, car, etc.  Your happiness is within you.  It's the light that shines from the soul.  It's the inner peace that everyone seeks for.  It doesn't matter if someone shoots you down, or disrespects you.  If you seek for that light within you, the world does not influence your happiness.&lt;br /&gt;    In his book, "Man's Search for Meaning," Viktor E. Frankl says that even during the holocaust he saw this principle.  When everything had been taken away from these people, some would choose to let this light shine.  There were some who on their deathbed would give whatever little scrap of food they had to someone else.  Those people let their light shine.  They had the inner happiness and peace.  The happiness wasn't reliant on the place or the situation they were in.  It was based on who they were inside.&lt;br /&gt;    Let's try not to mask our light.  Don't let the disparity of the situation get us to forget the happiness inside.  Constantly choose to let your light shine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-2953452515054492103?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2953452515054492103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=2953452515054492103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/2953452515054492103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/2953452515054492103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/08/choice-to-be-happy.html' title='The Choice to be Happy'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-5542197157437017084</id><published>2008-08-05T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T23:51:59.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Myth of Happily Ever After</title><content type='html'>Some where in our youth, we are taught that life will end happily ever after.  We create in our minds the perfect plan to our lives, and we fully expect that those things will happen.  Of course, we admit that "bad things can happen," but we never truly feel that those bad things will happen to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, somewhere between our blissful happy youth and our adulthood, we discover that life isn't a fairy tale at all.  At times it can be hard, miserable, lonely, mundane, or disappointing.  The determination to change the world through our job, turns out to be a hoax.  The people we love tell us they don't love us anymore, and the plans have so intently come to rely on crumble before us.  Our lives are shaken, and we feel lost.  What has happened to the blissful happiness of youth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, when our lives crumble and fall completely apart there comes a change into our lives.  Our souls are so deeply shaken that they have to start over again.  The mind has to reconstruct reality, and through this life is enriched. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life may not turn out the way we expect, but it will turn out better.  Not that the next job will be significantly better, the next person we love won't end up hurting us as much, or the plans we make next won't crumble, but our lives will be more enriched and ready for the next step.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-5542197157437017084?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5542197157437017084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=5542197157437017084' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5542197157437017084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/5542197157437017084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/08/myth-of-happily-ever-after.html' title='The Myth of Happily Ever After'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-897573899324403142</id><published>2008-05-15T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T17:59:11.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Types of Weird</title><content type='html'>I am often in conversation with someone and they will make a comment that some one is "weird" "unique" or "strange."  While these are great words, they don't exactly give a clear imagine.  I have determined that there are different types of weird.   Here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Nerdy Weird - This person displays his or her "uniqueness" by socially integrating sci-fi, fantasy novels, video games, and computer lingo into social settings.  If you can have more than a 5 minute conversation about light sabers (and in fact have done so), you may be suffering from this.  You may also be in trouble if you want to name parts of your home areas from Lord of the Rings, such as calling your bedroom the Hobbit Hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This area also extends to the computer and video games.  If you have the final song on a video game memorized word for word, you need to reevaluate your priorities.   If you can also relate to one of the characters in your video games, you have also gone too far.  Let's also make this clear, you should not relate your thinking ability to  amount of gigs on your computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once held a conversation with a person who went on a blogging date.  Yes, a blogging date.  The people took their computers and instead of socially talking, they blogged to each other.  That is going a little too far folks.  The worst part was this person was actually proud of his "uniqueness."  This person suffers from a severe case of "neirdy weird."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Branson Missouri Weird - This person is constantly musically happy.  You know the type.  Them and everyone in their family knows how to play 3 or more instruments, sing, and can do some other form of entertainment at the same time.  The parents in these families  have strategically planned from birth who will play what instrument and how it will form an overall routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not dissing on musically talented families.  In fact many families are musically talented, and I am in awe of their talents.  This gets to be too much is when the family becomes freakishly controlling through music and dancing.  These people live in a surreal bubble in which the outside world cannot penetrate their inner happiness.  Or at least it looks like this on the outside.  There is that subtle hint of insanity in glimmering in their eyes, and you know if you push the wrong button, you may release the wrath that has been bottled up for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Polygamist weird - This person may not be a polygamist, but they are oddly secretive about things.  I can't really find the words to describe this one.  They are dressed to the collar bone, wrist, and ankle.  They have weird and unique ideas about birthing children,  schooling children, vaccinations, and socially interacting with people outside of their family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact is many people are weird, but the weirdest needs to be kept to a minimum in order for a person to be socially acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have any other ideas of  "weirdness" let me know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-897573899324403142?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/897573899324403142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=897573899324403142' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/897573899324403142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/897573899324403142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/05/types-of-weird.html' title='Types of Weird'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1358489300950016028.post-8367409485000845850</id><published>2008-05-11T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T20:00:01.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something to Say</title><content type='html'>I was talking about blogs with my friends, and I came to the conclusion that I also needed to blog.  I have things to say; things that need to be read by the general public.  I have ideas that the general world needs to hear.  For this reason, I have decided to open a blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1358489300950016028-8367409485000845850?l=twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8367409485000845850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1358489300950016028&amp;postID=8367409485000845850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/8367409485000845850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1358489300950016028/posts/default/8367409485000845850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twinkiebabsy.blogspot.com/2008/05/something-to-say.html' title='Something to Say'/><author><name>twinkiebabsy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17029680150233051199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
