tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64775665148842568492024-03-13T13:02:29.824-04:00dreams in the palm of your hand.The life of a twentysomething gal.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-62099047847062518742013-04-07T10:10:00.002-04:002013-04-07T17:27:18.396-04:00Farewell to an old "friend".This car. Oh this car.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WmV3I4RQC5Y/UWFwuCHPNKI/AAAAAAAAAiw/_iqdhoK244Q/s1600/539540_10151512609628179_1778507656_n-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WmV3I4RQC5Y/UWFwuCHPNKI/AAAAAAAAAiw/_iqdhoK244Q/s320/539540_10151512609628179_1778507656_n-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span class="gmw_">This car has taken me wherever I needed to go <span class="gm_ gm_1b64f891-72c9-f0c4-94fb-949b24bc9bed gm-spell gm_tiny">A</span> and B </span><span class="gmw_">wise. I got Bridget (yes I named her) while I was in college working at a grocery store on a shoe string budget. Unfortunately, because I was not yet very wise, I also paid for Bridget in cash. (Never do this people)</span><br />
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And I didn't think to get the car checked by my local mechanic, because hey, it rode fine when I took it out for a test drive. (Never do this either)<br />
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<span class="gmw_">As a result, it turns out that This Car was a victim of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. It had previously been flooded, someone cleaned it out, got it to run and shipped it to New Jersey to be sold. I was that buyer. I was quite surprised when I began having problems six months after purchasing Bridget. Odd smells (like a gas smell) coming through the vents. The radio not working at all or shutting off after 15 minutes of driving. I took it to my mechanic, who was stunned that I was even driving Bridget.</span><br />
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"This car is so rusted I'm shocked your foot didn't go through the floor when you hit the brakes." he said.<br />
Well. That's not good.<br />
<span class="gmw_">The rust went all the way throughout the car. I even found rust in the gear shift. My dear dad learned of my problem, and paid to have new parts installed to replace the rusted ones, which gave the car new life, and it <span class="gm_ gm_1ac3ae8d-926b-1c94-78b8-16dc4a8a10b6 gm-spell">clunkered</span> along for about 6 more years. But, problems began steadily springing up a few months ago. </span><br />
I found rust in my coolant. (Yes. Really.)<br />
The battery died.<br />
The radio still didn't work.<br />
My tailpipe was falling apart.<br />
More rust found in the gear shift.<br />
That smell started coming back.<br />
My windshield wipers randomly starting turning on. (This happened on a date. Luckily, the guy didn't notice since he was following me in his car and when I told him months later, he was a good sport about it and thought it was funny)<br />
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When I learned that I needed a new transmission, I'll admit I began to hate Bridget, even if she did take me to many college get <span class="gm_ gm_e0bbfa60-1708-62fb-32d2-6ea673327e2e gm-spell">togethers</span>. When Dad picked me up at midnight after breaking down, everyone decided Bridget just wasn't safe for me anymore. Dad began secretly looking for a different car for me, as I silently cursed out my old one. (Bridget even made me swear.) Lo and behold, my parents found me THIS:<br />
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<span class="gmw_">Not bad eh? Bridget who? The best part about this new car was that I purchased it the right way this time, through a trusted mechanic and friend. The car is like new too.</span><br />
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And so, I've closed an old chapter in my life and entered a second, grown up chapter. My new grown up car. (This time with a working radio and CD player! Thanks parents. I'm about to party like it's 1996.)<br />
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<span class="gmw_"><br /></span>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-86911728838226355902013-02-21T13:54:00.000-05:002013-02-21T13:57:52.075-05:00PUBLISHED.PUBLISHED.<br />
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Wait, let me write it again.<br />
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I'M PUBLISHED.<br />
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<span class="gmw_">I'd been debating on whether or not to take my writing to the next level for quite awhile now. I've always identified myself as a writer, but I wasn't sure how to make my dreams a reality. After taking some writing courses (Read, A TON.) I decided to sign up to be a Yahoo contributor. There's a lot of courses through Yahoo as well to better your writing skills and I thought, hey why not? I'd build a portfolio that way, that's for sure.</span><br />
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<span class="gmw_">Turns out that freelance writing is the best thing I've ever done and it's a job that suits me well. I can work from home, and I love it so much that it doesn't even feel like work. The best part is that I now have a purpose, which is something I believe everyone needs. After some hemming and hawing, writes and rewrites, the first article I completed was about my mother. I didn't expect to get so personal right off the bat, (if at all) but once my fingers hit the keyboard, I could feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders. </span><br />
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The second article was a little tricker. I decided I wanted to interview someone I've admired for quite awhile, took a big leap of faith and contacted her directly. Her name is Schuyler Fisk and she's a beautiful singer/songwriter. I even went to one of her <a href="http://dreamsinthepalmofyourhand.blogspot.com/2011/03/new-yawk.html">concerts</a> a couple of years ago. After some corresponding with her publicist, I got my first interview gig. I submitted both articles on the 7th, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. 10 painstaking days later, I got a response back on the first article and--stunned--read the e-mail over and over that my material had been published Yahoo. It was fitting that the first article was about my mom. Maybe she was watching over me, making sure that my dream was realized.<br />
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<span class="gmw_"><br /></span><span class="gmw_"> I didn't have to wait long for my second article to be approved. The next morning, I was informed that my interview with Schuyler would be on Yahoo too. I was happily shocked by the latest turn of events and thanked her for the opportunity. Her response was lovely and she encouraged me to write more.</span><br />
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I never thought that this would happen simply by taking the plunge. More writing opprotunites are in the pipeline for me that I'm excited about and I can't wait to show them to you all as well. If you want to read my articles, "Lessons my Mother Taught Me" can be found here: <a href="http://voices.yahoo.com/lessons-mother-taught-me-12007308.html?cat=10">Lessons My Mother Taught Me.</a><br />
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My interview with singer/songwriter and actress Schuyler Fisk can be found here: <a href="http://voices.yahoo.com/one-one-schuyler-fisk-12008611.html?cat=33">One on One with Schuyler Fisk</a><br />
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I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-56338449400677972302013-01-14T18:38:00.000-05:002013-01-14T18:38:35.564-05:00New Me.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">I've been a little bit blue lately. So I decided that in order to feel better, sometimes you need to look better. </span></div>
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For Christmas, I got some wonderful new (and very much needed) clothes from my parents. I can't tell you how relieved I felt. But I've also been looking a bit frumpy in the hair department lately and I haven't put on makeup since July. So I did some things that I rarely do:</div>
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First, I got a haircut. (See above.)</div>
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Then I got my eyebrows all glammed up (I have two again.)</div>
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Then, I got some new makeup.</div>
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THEN I went really drastic.</div>
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I dyed my hair.</div>
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I'm a natural redhead. (Some say strawberry blonde) It's a dark auburn shade though, so depending on the time of year, it can sometimes turn dark blonde due to lack of sunlight. I decided to go for a higher redheaded hue, not straying TOO far from my natural color. I must say I like it.</div>
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I definitely feel better, I'll tell ya.</div>
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<br />katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-59235199859426424162013-01-09T09:01:00.000-05:002013-01-09T09:01:47.714-05:00New Year, big changes.I've been slacking on my blogging lately and other writing avenues, I'll admit it. Part of it is because my family and I have had quite a<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <span id="yui_3_3_0_1_1357738954440364" style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px;">tumultuous</span></span> end to 2012. It's been rather up and down and time consuming. The other reason is simply my lack of motivation lately to write. I'm finding that anything I put to my word processor has been overwhelming. Should I go in this direction? Should I write down that word? My friend Gretchen has lovingly gotten me back on the right path and her advice was simple: "Just write what you love to write about! You can always work on the mechanics later. Nothing is set in stone."<br />
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And so, I've returned to work and the tide has turned, albeit slowly. I've been forming my novel bit by bit, starting to enjoy the process, rather then becoming overwhelmed. My resolution is to get my book out this year and I'm thrilled about it. I'll let you know more as the final product comes together.<br />
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I've also signed on as a freelance writer for Yahoo! I can't wait to get my articles out there and share them with you guys.<br />
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I hope you all are doing well. What are your New Years resolutions?<br />
<br />katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-77823114441411597632012-10-29T09:24:00.000-04:002012-10-29T09:24:02.813-04:00You had me at Hurricane.Remember <a href="http://dreamsinthepalmofyourhand.blogspot.com/2011/09/after-irene.html">this post?</a><br />
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This was last year, when Irene hit. (by my friend's neighborhood in NJ)<br />
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My parents were at a dude ranch in Colorado and I was staying in their apartment (in flux still from my Hawaii trip.) My brother stayed with me at night. While he was working, it was up to me to move all of my parents essential items from their furnished basement, drag furniture to a higher location (they lived by a river at the time...and they were on the first floor), go grocery shopping and make sure I had flashlights, batteries, cash and gas for the car.<br />
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This was me, prepping for my first hurricane.<br />
By myself.<br />
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Sandy is supposed to be much worse, combining three storms together. It's also hitting NJ directly, something Irene did not do. But this time also feels easier. For one thing, I'm staying with my parents this time and it's nice to feel that comfort of family as you batten down the hatches. For another, they no longer live by a river, but inland towards Philly. (I drove an hour west from where I live) It was also nice to know that buying supplies was not entirely up to me this time around. That was a good thing, because by the time I wandered into the local Stop and Shop, this is what the scene looked like:<br />
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Good thing the parental unit planned ahead eh? </div>
Meanwhile, by Seaside Heights, I found this photo sent in by a viewer to our local news. A part of the boardwalk broke off and has floated away. (And Sandy is still 300 miles off shore.)<br />
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To all my fellow NJ'ians, (and some friends who are Virginians) stay safe and sound. Anyone reading this who is in Sandy's path, you stay safe too you hear? :) Time for a Hurricane party.<br />
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<br />katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-56440248736761719472012-09-25T14:35:00.001-04:002012-09-25T14:41:40.141-04:00Pop.12 years ago, an abundance of change occurred in our family. We lost a valuable member a year earlier and gained many more the following year. One of those members included a man who would make an impact in ways I'd never expected.<br />
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On a quiet weekend afternoon, I spent the day with new people who would eventually become family. Dad had been dating someone new for months, but this was the first time I would become acquainted with her relatives. I shyly entered the foyer at Lynda's, unsure of what to expect. It's well known that I have trouble with change, and I'd definitely had a bit of anxiety over the slew of it. I greeted Lynda, then various members of her family, until I came to a towering, booming man with huge hands and silvery hair.<br />
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"Is that a good book?" He asked, gesturing to my tiny elf hands. His voice was warm. Maybe he wasn't as scary as I thought.<br />
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"So far," I replied quietly, my voice not nearly as audible as his.<br />
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"She loves books!" Lynda told him.<br />
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Boy did I. I had everything, from children's series books, to fairy tales, to classics. You name it, I had it. <br />
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His eyes lit up. "Do you?" he said. "So do I." I smiled. Anyone who was a book lover was a friend of mine. I walked into the living room, a bit closer to home. "How many books do you have?" I asked, curious.<br />
"Oh, I lost count! I have a whole room of them."<br />
A whole <i>room? </i>I had a whole closet of them, sure, but never an entire room of treasures.<br />
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From there, we took off, conversing back and forth so much that Lynda suggested we sit in the dining room, then she got drinks for us. I learned he was a special education teacher at the high school I was attending. (he retired two years before I began going there) He was a fantastic storyteller. I loved listening to his teaching adventures and and I could hear the joy in his voice when he talked about his "kids." I told him what I loved about school and admitted what I didn't. Eventually, as the sun set and our voices became hoarse, I realized I'd forgotten one key question in our conversation.<br />
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"What's your name anyway?" I asked him.<br />
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He looked at me over his silver rimmed glasses and smiled. "You can call me Pop." I'd had no idea I was talking to Lynda's dad. From that moment on, The booming man with huge hands who loved books became my grandfather. His wife was Nannie.<br />
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As I lived out the remainder of my adolescence, Pop became one of my biggest champions. He always made sure I had everything I needed, and stood up for me during the rare moments I wasn't able to. I, along with my brothers, fit right in with his other grandchildren, Danielle, Pat, Betsy and Bobby. Then, two more grandchildren arrived in the family: Jade and Jamie, now beautiful young ladies. Six years ago, he got to meet his first great-grandchild, Dean, followed by Matt, two years later.<br />
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On September 19th, Pop left this Earth peacefully, exactly the way he wanted to: With his children and as many grandchildren as he could have by his side. One key thing that I'll always recall about Pop is that he loved his family and being enveloped by that love was all he needed. Yesterday was his memorial service, as well as Nannie and Pop's 63rd wedding anniversary.<br />
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Godspeed Pop. I will always remember your warm smile, your unconditional love, your generous spirit and kind soul. Thank you for treating my brothers and I as your own without the slightest hesitation. Thank you for loving animals as much as I do. Thank you for being my book buddy. Thank you for being the best grandfather I've ever had. You go soar the clouds, and one day, we'll meet you there.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-43321957114717677712012-08-02T16:23:00.001-04:002012-08-02T16:23:46.084-04:00Meeting Carly Findlay, Part 1.When I first began writing this blog, my world was very small. Oh sure, I had my friends and I had my family, but I was definitely a creature of habit. I was stuck in a rut of nothing, doing the same things day in and day out on a regular basis. I was full of dreams, but that's all they were. None of my goals had yet to become reality and a tiny part of me believed they never would.<br />
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Two years ago, as I lay in bed sick with pneumonia, I started this blog. I told myself to do one thing everyday that scared the crap out of me. Going to the movies alone. Driving. Meeting new people. Bit by bit, my goals got bigger. Saving for an apartment, moving out, traveling somewhere new. Never would I have imagined that I would achieve all of my goals in such a huge way. Because of this blog, I have met wonderful new people--online and offline. I have traveled to Hawaii on my own. I've driven everywhere. I have moved into a house with friends. I have been in a relationship. I have begun writing my first book. The best thing of all are the friendships that have formed through my blog. A few days ago, the opportunity to meet an amazing young woman became reality. Last year, I stumbled across a blog titled <a href="http://carlyfindlay.blogspot.com/">Tune into Radio Carly</a>. Having no idea what her blog was about, I researched her About Me page and immediately became intrigued and inspired. Like myself, Carly faces the everyday challenge of having a disability. Similarly, she also finds that there is no time or need in life to sit and feel sorry for yourself. Unlike me however, Carly also finds no time to be fearful. In Carly's world there are no what ifs. There are only hurdles that you clear, sometimes with ease and sometimes not so much, but no matter.<br />
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Carly is from a suburb of Melbourne, Australia. She's traveled half way around the world to attend BlogHer 2012, a conference for women's writers and bloggers. Last year, as she lay the hospital, she decided to plan her big trip to America. When I realized the conference was in NYC, I knew only of two things. 1) I had to attend the conference in some way, shape or form and be surrounded by others who loved writing as much as I did. 2) I needed to meet Carly. We kept in touch through various forms of social media and I realized we had a lot in common. Quickly, I scheduled a train trip to meet her in the city.<br />
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After confirming the date and time and buying my train ticket, I realized quickly that I would be crossing off another one of my fears, which was traveling by myself in the biggest city in the world. I got up early on Monday at my parents, after dog sitting. Because of this, I had a train ride that was over an hour long, instead of my usual half hour. Dad of course, was worried about my boarding the train myself with my balance issues, moving through big crowds and meeting semi strangers. I suppose I wouldn't always recommend meeting people from the Internet, but I assured him that I would be fine. After a giving him quick hug, I slung my new bag over my shoulder and began my journey to New York.<br />
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<br />katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-4211552573644157762012-05-29T17:04:00.000-04:002012-05-29T17:10:28.477-04:00Crossroads.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was young, books were everything. I started reading at 2 and haven't stopped since. Dad tells me that the first words I read were off a printed page of a TV Guide, but no matter, I was hooked from then on.<br />
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I remember as a little girl sitting Indian style and placing a huge stack of picture books on the left side of me, determined to teach myself to become better and better at reading. I'd pick one up, read it cover to cover, and move onto the next, excited to transport myself to a new world. Don't get me wrong, I loved being outside climbing trees, making rafts and catching guppies with my brothers, but with reading, my CP never hindered me. I could do anything--or be anything--I wanted to be, even a baseball player, a superhero or a cyclist. With reading, my body never mattered.<br />
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I guess it was only natural that my love for reading would progress to a love for writing. At four, I have a fuzzy memory of announcing to my grandmother what I wanted to be when I grew up. "I want to make my own books forever," I told her. She explained to me that what I was describing was called being an author.<br />
"Okay, that's what I want."<br />
"Then that's what you'll be," she said simply.<br />
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Naturally, I didn't understand as a preschooler how difficult it was to get your foot in the door of the publishing world, or the uncertain career writers can often have. If I wanted to be a writer, I would. At 6, my school had a young authors contest. I decided to craft my first story, titled "The Bear who Got Lost". I vaguely remember it being about a stuffed animal who was looking for her home and the young girl she was separated from. At the end of the book, the bear wakes up in her toy box, relieved that it was all a dream. Looking back, the ending didn't make much sense, but it was impressive for being only six. I won my first award that year and I can recall that the other winners were 4th and 5th graders. Mom was so proud.<br />
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I continued entering contests until middle school, when I joined the school news paper and participated creative writing classes. I'll shyly admit here that I received a lot of praise for my work over the years, although I oddly never paid much attention to it. I never created a story for academic approval or to be accredited by peers. I wrote not only because I wanted to--I needed to. Every thought and feeling that has consumed me over the years I've recorded. Once that pen hit the paper, I was free of it. Through life events I created fictional stories, poetry and journal entries. Even as my mother was losing her battle with cancer, I wrote those life events and emotions down in a journal.<br />
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In 1999, I was unknowingly on the verge of being published. One of my writing teachers submitted my poems to a publishing company, but by that point, I was too consumed with the very scary prospect of losing my mother to think of such things. Over the summer, I received a letter from the publisher expressing their interest in putting my poetry in a group collection. The letter was dated July 2. My mother died the day before. I never replied back to them, although I do still have the letter somewhere. For years, my love for writing died with my mother. I told myself that writing wasn't a "real" career and that I needed to think about other prospects. For a decade, I've tried different things, including journalism, but something was lacking.<br />
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When I began this blog, I did so in the simple hope that I would be able to flex my writing muscles again. In turn, I've discovered so much more. I realize I love to create more then anything else in the world and through this blog, I've also made my world much bigger. I've made friends and have gotten my drive back to make writing my career. During my hiatus, I discovered that the entire publishing world as I knew it, changed. You no longer have to go through the traditional channels to have your work be seen or have a publisher's approval to do it. I'm currently debating on whether or not to go through the traditional process at all, when self publishing through Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iBooks are options. Granted, they can be expensive options, but there you have it. I could have a chance to make my dreams come true, to be an "indie" author if you will. This will be a long process, but I'll be recording my journey here. I'm really excited and finally hopeful once more.<br />
After all: There's nothing better in life then writing it down.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-60889702599369333792012-05-19T09:14:00.001-04:002012-05-19T09:15:35.570-04:00A little bit of Grace.You may remember <a href="http://dreamsinthepalmofyourhand.blogspot.com/2012/01/gracie.html">this post</a> about my father's rescue dog.<br />
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I'm happy to report that Gracie is doing a whole lot better. She was sicker then we ever imagined. Underweight, spooked by quite a lot of things (like sounds and being alone), plagued by heart worm, hook worm and whip worm...she was a mess. Once the vet put her on (STRONG) antibiotics, she began to come around. This was a wonderful development, since my parents were going on vacation and I was going to be in charge of her for a week.<br />
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I learned a lot of things while watching this little dog make her way through illness and defeat it. One, she is tough. She had to be to survive on the street and battle what she has struggled with. Two, in spite of life's hardships, she has remained optimistic and hopeful. Gracie also loves the comfort of human beings. She doesn't ask for much. She's not a demanding creature. All she wants is your gentle presence. I'll sit on the couch and she'll slowly slide into my lap and snuggle as if to say "Thanks."<br />
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She loves children. She does her best to keep up with them until she needs a break, but even then, she silently reassures them that she is still their friend. Gracie could have easily rejected humans, and I wouldn't have blamed her in the slightest. After all, people have failed her. In spite of her abusive background, she doesn't see it this way. In Gracie's mind, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. What I usually keep quiet about on this blog is that I've been struggling with depression. Two weeks ago, I began taking a medication that has really started helping tremendously, but also, this gentle, four legged lady has helped me through this process. She doesn't judge or care if you feel broken. She just loves you. She heals you.</div>
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Dad is beginning the process of training Gracie to be a therapy dog to kids, adults and elderly patients in need at local hospitals and I think she'd be absolutely perfect for that. I know that she has slowly healed me. After much needed TLC, it's time to go home, but I'll never forget the week I had with this little girl and I can easily say it's been a privilege. </div>
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<br />katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-70115919452539041912012-05-17T13:20:00.002-04:002012-05-17T13:20:31.496-04:00Thank you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thank you to all who commented on my last post. You've really given me a lift and I loved your positive responses. I'm sorry I haven't been able to comment properly on your blogs or update this one in a couple of weeks. Both of my grandparents are in the hospital and there's been a lot of commuting back and forth and worry. I'm relieved they're getting the care that they need and that they are together, but well wishes and prayers are appreciated. I'll be updating here real soon, as well as sending love to your blogs. Love to you all!katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-69125017273942421422012-04-23T17:16:00.005-04:002012-04-23T23:33:50.289-04:00Walking in your own shoes.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Recently, I was chatting with one of my other auntie's. (Not
Hawaii Auntie, but NJ Auntie) NJ Auntie said something really profound to me
the other day. She suggested I write it down, so that whenever I feel unsure
about myself, I can read it and remember.</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">For a long time I've had a terrible habit of
comparing myself to other people. I think when my mom died and then I merged
into a stepfamily, I lost a lot of my self-confidence. Before, I knew my place
in my family. I was the only girl. I was aware of what I liked, what I didn't
like and who I was. There was no questioning Katie. There was no uncertainty.
When women suddenly surrounded me, I was completely thrown off balance, through
no fault of their own. My stepmom and stepsisters seemed to know so
much...more. I endlessly, secretly wished I had the answers they seemed to
have. They had a lifetime pass to Girl World and I had yet to discover my
membership card. I wore t-shirts and jeans everyday, my messy long, blonde hair
in a ponytail. I had knobby knees and bony elbows. I secretly still loved being
surrounded by my mountain of stuffed animals. I had lots of friends who were
boys, but boyfriends were a long way off. I did okay in school, but not stellar
in anything that didn't interest me. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">My stepmom and stepsisters were all well
groomed, tall and beautiful. They wore nice clothes. My oldest stepsister was
graduating college, moving out and starting a new life. My youngest stepsister
was beginning her college journey. I secretly wanted one more year of high
school so I could find my footing. Suddenly, everything I'd deemed okay about
myself before was put into question, and I pondered on things I had no clue
about. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">How DID you put on makeup? </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">What colleges would I apply to? </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Did I even want to go to college?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">What the heck is this Express store?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Would any guy look at me the way they look at
her?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Was I pretty?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Add having CP thrown into the mix and I
unexpectedly had a very hard time accepting who I was. In my mind, being Katie
was no longer acceptable. I wasn't normal. I was different. I was defective. I
felt like felt like a human being that needed to be recalled. No one else
realized this. I couldn't dare tell them what I really thought about myself. They
knew me as strong, my dad especially.</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">In my late twenties, the questions changed. I
now knew how to put on makeup. I knew what Express was. I've had (some) men
take notice and I've been in a relationship. I thought I'd caught up. But just
as I caught up, friends and family moved ahead. As I happily congratulated
couples on their engagements, marriages and the births of their children, that
ugly voice loomed inside me once more:</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Would I get married?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Would I have children?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Would I be successful?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Would I ever land a job I enjoyed?</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">I didn't have the answers and I hated it. I
was also very anxious over it. Throughout my twenties I tried on different
identities, different jobs and different majors, but nothing felt right and
nothing worked. After my talk with Auntie, I suddenly know why. Nothing worked
because I wasn't being me. I was only being a false version of "me."
I was being the "me" I thought was expected. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">I was my own worst enemy. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">You know that saying you'll never understand a person until
you walk a mile in their shoes? That applies to you
too. Sometimes, you need to walk in your own shoes. Auntie said that I was so
busy trying on everyone else's shoes; I'd lost my own pair. I realized that
no matter how many times I tried to be like my stepsisters', my friends or
their friends, it would never work, because their shoes would never fit me.
Only I could be Katie. I needed to allow myself to enjoy Katie as she is
and not who she tried to be. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">After our conversation, I read a few blogs to
unwind. I came across this entry at one of my favorites, Tune Into Radio
Carly. It was a Godsend.</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><a href="http://carlyfindlay.blogspot.com/2012/04/interview-with-comedian-francesca.html"><span style="color: #786395; font-family: Arial; text-decoration: none;">An interview with a comedian: Francesca Martinez</span></a></span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">At first, I didn't think much of it, but I as read on I realized
the entry was everything I needed. Francesca Martinez was a comedian, an
actress, a young woman in her 30's, successful...and she had </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Cerebral Palsy</span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">In her interview she discloses that, although she was a secure,
happy child, she'd lost her footing in high school and suddenly, she no longer
felt okay as herself. Her latest comedy tour in London highlights her journey
to acceptance. She doesn't use the term "CP." Instead, she has
christened herself as "wobbly." I decided I liked that. As I was
reading further something she said stood out at me: There is no normal. That's
when I realized the race to be normal is like a race to nothing. We're all
different. The sooner I realized that, the sooner I could (finally) begin anew.
The weight would be lifted. I would be free. It wouldn't be an overnight
process and I might take a few steps back from time to time but I could see
now. I've begun to practice walking in my own shoes.</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Stronger. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Taller. </span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">Proud.</span><span style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: Arial;">And
yes, a bit "wobbly." </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span id="goog_1693948248"></span><span id="goog_1693948249"></span>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-24802185806622827532012-04-15T10:10:00.001-04:002012-04-15T10:13:09.359-04:00Twenty-Nine.On my birthday <a href="http://dreamsinthepalmofyourhand.blogspot.com/2011/03/birthdays-part-1.html">last year</a>, I was pondering where I would be going, what I would be doing and who I would become as I prepared for my trip to Hawaii.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_-ImxcazpVU/T4CoZcTAAEI/AAAAAAAAAcM/mTFh2W0Z7ZU/s1600/20110328_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_-ImxcazpVU/T4CoZcTAAEI/AAAAAAAAAcM/mTFh2W0Z7ZU/s320/20110328_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This year, a lot has changed. I'm still inspired from my journey to Hawaii, when before I had no idea what I was missing. I'm quicker on my feet, less sheltered and not as naive as I once was. Traveling and meeting new people opens your world for sure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This year, instead of doing a family celebration before everyone went on to their own endeavors, I celebrated a fun filled 29th Birthday with my brothers in the afternoon and my friends in the evening. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKh7Mi4VJmY/T4CtbIAMLnI/AAAAAAAAAcU/Wo78NKgkPIA/s1600/554892_10150793647003179_625068178_11790986_1768047421_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKh7Mi4VJmY/T4CtbIAMLnI/AAAAAAAAAcU/Wo78NKgkPIA/s1600/554892_10150793647003179_625068178_11790986_1768047421_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I expected a really low key, quiet birthday. (It was the first one I would celebrate where I was no longer living at home.) Instead, I (happily) received a lot of phone calls from friends and family giving me well wishes. I'd expected to hang out with my friends at night, (we'd made plans a week earlier) but when I called my twin brother to wish him a Happy Birthday, he told me that our brother Dan was surprising us with a birthday lunch and to meet at his place by 11:30. So, that began my whirl wind day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When I arrived at Brother's place, Brother 2 and his girlfriend Gen were waiting with gifts and cards. I was so touched. They certainly didn't have to get us anything. I received Barnes and Noble gift cards from my brothers and some money and a Target gift card from Gen. Then we went to a nice little place called <a href="http://myconfects.com/">Confectionately Yours</a>. It used to be just an ice cream place, but now they've changed locations and made it into a full restaurant. It's one of the only restaurants in our old town/my brother's current town. The owner is super nice and hospitable. The food and ESPECIALLY the desserts and candy are to die for. It looks like one of those old school soda shops.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After lunch we went back to Brother's apartment to catch up for a bit. Then I met my friends for dinner. Some of the friends I hadn't seen in quite awhile, so it was so nice to catch up with them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-knUI-rxzDwY/T4rSo5hjMWI/AAAAAAAAAck/k2eViv2lVwc/s1600/538198_678547455287_198601038_33004698_1167393508_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-knUI-rxzDwY/T4rSo5hjMWI/AAAAAAAAAck/k2eViv2lVwc/s320/538198_678547455287_198601038_33004698_1167393508_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was just happy to be surrounded by good company, but they put a lot of thought into cards and simple gifts too. I think they were going with a "kid at heart theme". I didn't mind. I was moved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gNRG1s_CFmY/T4rT5tUvNrI/AAAAAAAAAcs/017NJXyN9h8/s1600/559441_10150776966608179_625068178_11726257_213024818_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gNRG1s_CFmY/T4rT5tUvNrI/AAAAAAAAAcs/017NJXyN9h8/s320/559441_10150776966608179_625068178_11726257_213024818_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My favorite childhood books. (PS: These were well searched for. Thank you all!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The next day, my dad and stepmom celebrated our birthday with all three of us, plus Gen. (our birthdays are pretty close together) I was again surrounded by good company and my dad and stepmom got me awesome jewelry! (Lynda told me she thought the style of the necklace said me all over it. She was right. )</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0zfRWcC3dEk/T4rWYJZv14I/AAAAAAAAAc0/sT62ukEJT2I/s1600/529831_10150778851343179_625068178_11732772_2118493560_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0zfRWcC3dEk/T4rWYJZv14I/AAAAAAAAAc0/sT62ukEJT2I/s320/529831_10150778851343179_625068178_11732772_2118493560_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All in all, it was a lovely day. It was a nice reminder that I have good people and a lot of love around me. Sometimes, you need that reminder, especially when things get tough. It was certainly remembered that day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-24665967802602106462012-04-12T18:43:00.000-04:002012-04-12T18:43:12.269-04:00I won an award!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-maBRPDafP4A/T4dU-laOqWI/AAAAAAAAAcc/607skuiQkx0/s1600/liebster-award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-maBRPDafP4A/T4dU-laOqWI/AAAAAAAAAcc/607skuiQkx0/s1600/liebster-award.jpg" /></a></div>Caity, an awesome blogger with a fantastic blog herself, has decided to honor me with an award. I've enjoyed reading her blog, <a href="http://caityslosingit.blogspot.com/">The Skinny on Me</a>, for a couple of years. In it, she chronicles her ongoing journey with losing weight, as well as her struggles with illness. I've marveled at her writing ability (much better then mine I'll tell ya) and continue to cheer her on as she reaches her goals. I urge you to read her blog. It's refreshing to find a real voice who focuses on real issues. Caity is also an aspiring actress! I wish her the best of luck with a roller coaster ride in LA.<br />
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And now, without further adieu, I would like to award the Liebster Blog to some of my favorites!<br />
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1) Carly @<a href="http://carlyfindlay.blogspot.com/">Tune into Radio Carly</a><br />
2) Shannon @ <a href="http://shanimalscrackers.blogspot.com/">Shanimals Crackers</a><br />
3) <a href="http://rosalindcummingsyeates.blogspot.com/">Farsighted Fly Girl</a><br />
4) Claire @ <a href="http://inchairblog.blogspot.com/">IN CHAIR</a><br />
5) Hayley @ <a href="http://holdingtheworldinapapercup.blogspot.com/">Holding the World in a Paper Cup</a><br />
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Thank you so much again to Caity! It's an honor!katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-90073981053818536952012-03-20T13:11:00.002-04:002012-03-20T13:18:41.268-04:00Starting over.Recently, I haven't felt so awesome lately. I think it's because a lot of things have happened over the past several months, so much so that it's dizzying, good and bad. My seasonal job came to a close in January, and while I received EXCELLENT reviews during my time there (and had a fantastic time), there's no room for me right now. I'm also coming to terms with the fact that I'm having a difficult time lately physically. My legs hurt more often, as does my back. I often get spasms in the middle of the night, that, while not painful, disrupt my sleep.<br />
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Not too long ago, I met someone. We had a lot in common, and while I won't go into too much detail or name names, I was very happy with him. Everything hit me like a ton of bricks and it was unexpected. Things didn't work out, but I was pleased that he came into my life when he did. I'll admit I miss him though. I never thought I'd miss anyone, or have anyone to miss. On the plus side, it shows that you never know what (or who) is around the corner and that maybe there IS someone around the corner for me. For now, I just do what I always do, and that's try to surround myself with good people and family.<br />
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I decided that I was getting into too much of a funk with all that was happening and all the stressors I was dealing with. It was time for a new change of scene. I wanted to travel again, this time on a limited budget and just get away for awhile. I honestly wanted to rent a car and go on a road trip, but with gas prices through the roof (and climbing) my stepmother's suggestion to go on a cruise sounded like a nice idea.<br />
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Dad dropped us off at the airport before work. Gracie the dog (who is feeling much better by the way) saw us off too.<br />
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Lynda and I arrived in Orlando the day before since our ship was to depart from Port Canaveral. I'll admit it, I was excited, but also a bit weary of Disney World. Disney World: Where even a sweatshirt is $70. No thrifting here. No sir. But you know what? I stopped worrying. Even if it was only for a day, it was a gift. Disney truly is the happiest place on Earth. Leave your weary self at the door.<br />
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Since we only had a day to walk around, we chose Epcot as our stomping ground. I thought it was really neat that you got a taste (sometimes literally) of different countries and culture. We weren't able to visit every "country", but we did get Mexico, Canada, France and England in there. Of course, I also stopped to look at the giant Epcot ball. I couldn't go inside though, since it was closed for repairs. Oh well. Pictures anyway!<br />
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We ate a lot, and I did my favorite: I people watched while we were in "Paris".<br />
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The only things that I found completely disappointing were: 1) I went to an exhibit on energy by Ellen <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">DeGeneres. It was incredibly outdated and there was a lot of information on the environment (that we know currently) left out of the film. When I say outdated, I mean I was probably ten when it first came onto the Disney World scene. Not very enlightening at all. Fun fact: Alex Trebek was also in the movie and he still sported his mustache. Yup. 2) We got a GREAT deal for a 4 star hotel and Lynda and I quickly realized we both missed our Holiday Inn or Best Western. The food at the hotel was awful. All cold food. Mostly stale. (especially breakfast) </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Other then that though, we both had a good time. I'll get to the cruise in my next entry, but before I close, I wanted to say thanks to all who have been reading along on my adventures. It's so appreciated. You all really lift my spirits up and it feels good to write to you all. I'll be taking my blog in a (slightly) new direction. I'll be writing more about Cerebral Palsy, the good and the ugly. I've been assessing my goals and I would love to get back into writing more. I'll be working on a project involving creating a picture book for kids with disabilities, as well as anyone else who would love to read along. I don't know where it will lead me, but I would love to connect with people through writing and reading. I've been a "writer" my whole life, but have never really done anything professionally with it. It's time to start doing. It's time to make those dreams come true.</span></span>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-19829469656270009792012-01-28T12:02:00.000-05:002012-01-28T12:02:41.109-05:00Gracie.Recently, my dad adopted a dog from a local rescue. The rescue found this sweet girl in Puerto Rico. They believe she had been on the streets for quite some time. No one knows if she escaped from a yard, or was simply left to fend for herself.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zd9pCMlupz4/TyQmGOPM1QI/AAAAAAAAAa8/b5jQADa-6oM/s1600/f13d36ac461a11e180c9123138016265_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zd9pCMlupz4/TyQmGOPM1QI/AAAAAAAAAa8/b5jQADa-6oM/s320/f13d36ac461a11e180c9123138016265_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The rescue from New Jersey found out about her situation, and she ended up about an hour away from my dad, living with a foster family. Dad and my stepmom then contacted the foster family. One thing led to another, and...well....here she is. When she arrived, she was badly matted, had ear mites and was heartworm positive. (still is in fact) The rescue has been keeping up with the heartworm treatment very well and she should be okay (gradually) beginning next month. For now, Gracie can't have too much stress brought onto her or it may affect her heart. We've been keeping everything quiet and peaceful for her. The medicine also wears her out. (the vet said she'd be sleeping a lot and boy does she!) After her first night, Dad and Lynda had a mobile groomer come to the house, (one who was brought up to speed on her heart condition) and the groomer worked her magic.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dJFqi707A2w/TyQpMI_TSgI/AAAAAAAAAbE/jQs74l0sQNI/s1600/57542ea649cb11e19e4a12313813ffc0_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dJFqi707A2w/TyQpMI_TSgI/AAAAAAAAAbE/jQs74l0sQNI/s320/57542ea649cb11e19e4a12313813ffc0_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gracie loves cuddles and just being petted. I think she knows and is relieved to be home. She's simply a sweetie.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Welcome to the family.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s4nTd7NUs_E/TyQp_pxAR2I/AAAAAAAAAbM/_aMZOQG8XLU/s1600/6ce2b8a049cb11e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s4nTd7NUs_E/TyQp_pxAR2I/AAAAAAAAAbM/_aMZOQG8XLU/s320/6ce2b8a049cb11e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-szkVdwgMqu0/TyQqFrzyQMI/AAAAAAAAAbU/fHdF9CYLt40/s1600/a65e6a7a49cb11e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-szkVdwgMqu0/TyQqFrzyQMI/AAAAAAAAAbU/fHdF9CYLt40/s320/a65e6a7a49cb11e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-80722835121771558852012-01-16T11:27:00.002-05:002012-01-16T15:18:19.906-05:00Reflections.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAYcNjg5-fg/TxRILlm-TSI/AAAAAAAAAa0/KnAc39wRTLo/s1600/198e2be2404a11e19e4a12313813ffc0_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAYcNjg5-fg/TxRILlm-TSI/AAAAAAAAAa0/KnAc39wRTLo/s320/198e2be2404a11e19e4a12313813ffc0_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
2011 was a bit of a crazy year for me.<br />
I went to visit my best friend in Florida, then took an almost five month journey to Hawaii. After returning home to stay briefly at my parents house, I moved into a house with my two friends. I tried out a full time job position in sales, but it had no benefits and a very low pay, so I amicably left.<br />
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Then I got a seasonal position at a wonderful job and met fantastic people. A few days ago, that position ended, which leaves me a bit sad, but I was satisfied with the way my performance was rated.<br />
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Between working 30 to even 50 hour work weeks and driving back and fourth to my job, Brother's, my parents (which is over an hour drive now) and friends, I'll admit that I was too exhausted to keep up with my blog and it became pretty neglected. My 2012 resolution is to get back to writing again. What I've learned is that, even though I still fear the unknown, you never know what's around the corner, including good things.<br />
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I'm keeping up with my traveling vow. This time will be a little more low key (as in, not a 5 month long journey). First, I'll be stopping in Orlando to visit the bestie. Then, I'll be going on a trip to Key West<br />
and the Bahamas.<br />
<br />
A few changes will be different this time around. When I was on the phone discussing my plans with family, (more or less going "Wouldn't it be cool to do something like that again?") They said "Well, why not?" My stepmom will be my traveling buddy this time around. I think it's because she didn't like the idea of my driving to see a landmark or taking a road trip by myself. I don't mind though. One thing I learned last year is that I am okay with being by myself or with people. We leave February 4th. I think my family has seen how tense I've been lately. I'm glad I have them around reassuring me, telling me I can do it, championing me, and simply making me feel better. I hope I do the same for them.<br />
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I've been coming to terms with a lot of things lately, including that my CP and scoliosis may be affecting me a bit more as I age, and that I simply can't do everything I thought I could do. They've all been a big support in helping me come to terms with that.<br />
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"Katie, if you didn't have the challenges that you do, you wouldn't be the same person. It's part of who you are." said my dad.<br />
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I think he's right.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-11398948019771274992011-12-18T21:57:00.000-05:002011-12-18T21:57:00.066-05:00Update from the islands.It's been quite awhile since I've been to my Hawaiian paradise. I miss it terribly. Luckily, Auntie has been providing me with updates. Apparently, Daylight (her cat) misses me, and sleeps in the hat that I left there at night. Also, She has given me updates on the happenings around town, including Christmas traditions, such as the Honolulu parade.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VhCAElxGdKs/Tu6nqdO5GMI/AAAAAAAAAak/X6nl97joWIs/s1600/405604_10150538291973179_625068178_10871678_1766782195_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VhCAElxGdKs/Tu6nqdO5GMI/AAAAAAAAAak/X6nl97joWIs/s1600/405604_10150538291973179_625068178_10871678_1766782195_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shaka Santa. That's how Hawaii rolls.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q8NOLDrxFF8/Tu6n2jyXKHI/AAAAAAAAAas/2ZSwBbpKXa4/s1600/408416_10150538382393179_625068178_10872102_1865015717_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q8NOLDrxFF8/Tu6n2jyXKHI/AAAAAAAAAas/2ZSwBbpKXa4/s320/408416_10150538382393179_625068178_10872102_1865015717_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-43962728802938616992011-12-18T21:49:00.001-05:002011-12-18T22:04:43.440-05:00worry wart.I'll admit it.<br />
<br />
Lately, I've been finding it a little more difficult to look on the bright side. I've been anxious quite a lot and I'm unsure why. I'm a bit of a worry wort, that I know, but I've noticed I worry more often lately.<br />
<br />
In recent months, my car has decided it would be fun to break down numerous times. My bills ($1,000 for the first one just three weeks ago. Second unknown) for that car are beginning to be more trouble then it's worth. I'd finally had it when it began making a terrible grinding sound and I had difficulty steering the car. Luckily, I made it home safely and it was towed tonight.<br />
<br />
Today, I was (I believe) pick pocketed while I was at work. My (brand new) phone was stolen. Again, I should probably count my blessings that I wasn't outright mugged, my phone had insurance and I was okay. Instead I'm just mad. I simply want to stand on my own two feet, build some savings, and not feel broke. I lie awake at night sometimes wondering when a temporary job will become permanent and I won't have to worry anymore. On the plus side, I'm being praised at my temporary job. Hopefully things will turn around.<br />
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I hate that I'm writing such a negative blog. Venting I suppose. I need to sit back, reflect and realize that I do have many blessings to count. It's just hard to see them sometimes.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-72415549082793477032011-11-03T10:21:00.000-04:002011-11-03T10:21:53.702-04:00Hey there Y'all!Lots going on!<br />
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I'm doing well. I haven't really had the time to update my own blog or comment on my favorites, because of my new job and the long hours. (LONG) I often worked night hours, then was simply too tired to do much else besides hit the hay. (what a change from looking, searching and praying for employment!)<br />
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I will say this though: My sales job wasn't right for me. I had difficulty with the pacing of the job and being able to hear customers on the phone. I had to learn how to pitch in order to make the numbers that I needed to make, and I discovered that I wasn't very good at it. After a careful consideration, I left the job amicably, and I found another job that I enjoy a whole lot more. It's temporary to perm and part time for now, but I'm relieved to be with people again and have a steady salary. (You know the previous job wasn't right for you when your hair begins to fall out in the shower and you sit in the parking lot before work giving yourself a pep talk)<br />
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I'm relieved to be working again. The best part? This job has lots of opprotunity for growth AND offices on the west coast and in Hawaii. I sense a five year plan y'all!katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-10822202496090253942011-10-02T22:47:00.000-04:002011-10-02T22:47:04.728-04:00Long time, no post.Wow! Hi there.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry I haven't written in awhile. Several things have caused this to happen:<br />
<br />
1) No internet. This made blogging (including reading my favorite blogs) kind of tough. :( (As one of my friends/roommates said: "Katie, I bet this is KILLING you right now." Indeed. But, I survived. After all, there are worse things in life then no internet. (and no cable) We recently (as in, a couple of days ago) got internet and DirectTV, so I'm back in business. (now if only I can find my camera).<br />
2) Settling in. It's taken a little bit to organize everything in my new room just so. My dad put together all of my furniture from Ikea, and I am now nestled in very nicely.<br />
3) (and this was the MAJOR time eater) Job hunting, job hunting, job hunting. It's taken up a huge chunk of time, and yet, everyday was becoming the same. I filled out so many forms that I memorized every important number and address in my working life. I went to job fairs. I searched CareerBuilder, Job.com, Indeed.com Monster, even Craigslist. (which I really don't recommend) I hit the pavement, dropping off my resume at department stores in the mall. I began researching volunteer opportunities just to fill my time when starting Wednesday, my phone began ringing off the hook for interviews. I landed a job on Friday. I start tomorrow. I'm crossing my fingers that this works out, but even if it doesn't, I feel stronger and more confident. I know now that all I can do is try my best.<br />
4) I think I was becoming burned out with blogging. I hate saying that, because I love it so much, but I needed a bit of a break.<br />
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I hope you all are well. I'll post more details on my new place (pics of new digs included!) in my next blog. :)katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-14914233959662205782011-09-12T16:01:00.000-04:002011-09-12T16:01:51.029-04:00Home Sweet Home (well, almost)My friends and I have finally moved into our new house. :) (Well, really there's, but they say it's mine too) I feel really lucky and blessed to have my friends. I'm still searching for a job, but with all the resumes I've sent out and follow up calls I'm making, something is bound to turn up soon. I will be keeping my chin up.<br />
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The house is really great. There's still some work that needs to be done here and there, but that'll be done in due time. I would like to thank (my friend) Erin's mom, Ginny. She did a lot of work with the house, and especially my room, while I was so far away. With 6,000 miles between us, she painted my room a perfect green, refinished the hardwood floors, and redid everything. It means a lot to me. I would also like to thank my parents, who bought me all new bedroom furniture. (A dresser and nightstands were really needed in my life) I'm grateful that they let me stay at their place with no problem and told me I was always welcome, even when I felt a bit uneasy at times.<br />
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Now, it's up to me. Being on your own can be a little scary for sure (and I am a little--well very--nervous), but it's what I need in my life. I'm thankful for this new adventure, especially with the fact that I won't being doing it alone.<br />
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I'll close here for now. At the moment, we don't have cable or Internet, since we just moved in yesterday, but I will update here when we're all settled.<br />
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After five long months, I no longer live out of a suitcase. It feels good to have my own room and be in my own bed. I finally feel I can relax a little. I am home.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-59192125977855367722011-09-03T22:51:00.003-04:002011-09-03T23:04:00.740-04:00After Irene.Down the road from us, my cousin Shannon had a very different story to share. These are her photos:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gddSLPWrgns/TmKxmULVilI/AAAAAAAAAaE/pOOMYsQneKg/s320/storm1.JPG" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-On9GQDgLtOg/TmKxrlSIEaI/AAAAAAAAAaI/y6431hlq6-Y/s320/storm2.JPG" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1N9oXAXmZEc/TmKxyPEK5_I/AAAAAAAAAaM/UXBPIIjCd6o/s1600/storm3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1N9oXAXmZEc/TmKxyPEK5_I/AAAAAAAAAaM/UXBPIIjCd6o/s320/storm3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NBJPs602NDY/TmKx5A1NkMI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/e6sWdVOYJSI/s1600/storm4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NBJPs602NDY/TmKx5A1NkMI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/e6sWdVOYJSI/s320/storm4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9EfiFB1LrM/TmKyBWOLApI/AAAAAAAAAaU/erbZ6_KC8Ts/s1600/storm6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9EfiFB1LrM/TmKyBWOLApI/AAAAAAAAAaU/erbZ6_KC8Ts/s320/storm6.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EWaLe27D4BM/TmKyHFu5pnI/AAAAAAAAAaY/JbNZA_D42jY/s1600/storm7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EWaLe27D4BM/TmKyHFu5pnI/AAAAAAAAAaY/JbNZA_D42jY/s320/storm7.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Photos 1 and two of are of a large oak tree that fell on her block. The oak tree is no more. I feel bad for the homeowner whose fence is destroyed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Photo 3? That is NOT a lake or a river. True, there is a river nearby...but it's never flooded that bad before. Not as long as we've been here anyway. The diner across the street (way off in the distance if you look closely) is where our cousins and myself hang out on the regular. It's a cute little place. I'm unsure how the diner is affected currently. Hopefully, they got all the water out of there. Shannon's comment on the photo? "I don't understand how people wade through disgusting." Neither do I cousin. Neither do I.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Photo 4 is a shot of JFK Boulevard, a heavy populated area, full of stores and restaurants. It's hard to imagine that I've driven on that road all the time on the way to my grandmother's.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You get the idea. The photo below was taken by my friend Erin. Luckily, the house we're moving into soon was not damaged by the storm.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aw0DjaLKsFQ/TmLgWtT9TaI/AAAAAAAAAac/QzHYwOtvv6s/s1600/erinstree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aw0DjaLKsFQ/TmLgWtT9TaI/AAAAAAAAAac/QzHYwOtvv6s/s320/erinstree.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A town not mentioned on the news much (national or otherwise) is Monroe Township, NJ. Monroe Township is an area that was hit incredibly hard with unexpected flooding. In one development, all the homes were destroyed. Those residents are now homeless. Businesses that have been in the area for years have been closed until further notice. They may not be able to reopen at all. Most of these businesses and residents are not covered by flood insurance. Since the area has not been hit with this kind of disaster, flood insurance was not offered. Monroe is such a wonderful community. It's maybe 12 minutes from where I am. Six of my friends live there, and I'm always driving back and forth. It's just so odd to see this devastation. Please send your prayers to them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqaONN-dIas/TmLkkSE5QpI/AAAAAAAAAag/jxBFfeokHoY/s1600/298242_279728522042155_279664735381867_1319114_7234209_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqaONN-dIas/TmLkkSE5QpI/AAAAAAAAAag/jxBFfeokHoY/s320/298242_279728522042155_279664735381867_1319114_7234209_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This photo was taken by a member of the Facebook group: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Help-Hurricane-Irene-Flood-Victims-in-Monroe-NJ-08831/279664735381867">Help Hurricane Irene Flood Victims in Monroe, NJ</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Local residents have just learned that FEMA will be helping Monroe. If you would like to help as well, please go to <a href="http://www.njredcross.org/giving/howToGive.asp">http://www.njredcross.org/</a>. </div>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-75816496859460037232011-09-01T17:35:00.002-04:002011-09-01T17:46:43.162-04:00Irene.August 29, 2011<br />
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So all those news reports you've been hearing nationally? The ones about Hurricane Irene and her wrath up the East Coast? Well, that headed right for moi and the fam.<br />
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I can't say I was too pleased with her visit. She couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time. (I guess no hurricane is convenient) You see, I am still at the parents house. And my parents are at a dude ranch in the Midwest, where they have been since last week. (They're supposed to return on Tuesday) So...That means it's been just me for the majority of the week. At first, I wasn't too alarmed when I first began hearing of the hurricane's projected path. Our weather forecasters are kind of dramatic. (I don't know if yours are) I figured there would be a lot of rain and some wind, and I would have a tropical storm party for 1. I began realizing how wrong I was a few days ago. As each forecast became more ominous then the last one, Brother decided he was going to stay with me, and I decided to pick up (and dig out) supplies:</div><div style="margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8SLsgYXlChY/TlnLS0neqlI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/1Q5VrBFrPkk/s1600/DSC00444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8SLsgYXlChY/TlnLS0neqlI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/1Q5VrBFrPkk/s320/DSC00444.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ImN9t-4gKC4/TlvTxf0Fw6I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/OhKVu44JT_U/s1600/P1020440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ImN9t-4gKC4/TlvTxf0Fw6I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/OhKVu44JT_U/s320/P1020440.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The day before the storm hit, I stocked up on about $150 bucks worth of groceries, including canned food (every official I listened to said enough for 5 days). Then I bought tape to use on the windows, filled my tank with gas, and took some mullah out of the ATM, just in case. I pulled in all the plants, and put all the patio furniture indoors. The day of, I cooked meals ahead of the storm, vacuumed and did laundry. I packed a "to go" bag, just in case I had to leave my parents apartment. (I was so not liking that stream in back of us at the moment) Then I moved boxes around the basement onto higher areas, just in case the basement filled with water. I was beat by the time my brother came over, but I still wanted to make a hot meal, so I cooked dinner too. Afterword, Brother told me he would clean up, then I went to bed to take a nap. I couldn't sleep though. As the wind began picking up, the texts on my phone started pouring in. Various friends and family checking in on us, asking how we were. I reassured them all we were fine. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Too keyed up to close my eyes, I joined Brother in the living room. At first we were silent, nervously watching television and eyeing the darkening skies, until our neighbors broke the ice. Upstairs, they decided they weren't going to let Irene get in the way of their party. Or rather, perhaps they partied because of Irene. The louder the storm got, the louder they did too, including blasting music and even jumping up and down.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I wish we had a case of beer or something," I joked. "We could have joined them." Brother laughed. "Hey, we have food!" Then he added: "I like listening to them, they take my mind off things." I agreed. We decided to remain low key, but we began chatting about other things besides the wind and rain outside, and switched the television away from the scary weather reports to mindless MTV. The lights soon began to flicker. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"AWWWWWW!!!!" said the party upstairs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The lights returned.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On any normal day, this would have caused me to be annoyed at best. (I love my sleep) But I didn't think we would be sleeping regardless of a party, so I smiled instead. Around midnight, I said good night to Brother and did my best to settle down and turn in. I noticed the windows in the room I'd been staying in were rattling like crazy and debated on whether I should stay there. In the end, I decided I liked my bed too much. Against by better judgement, I booted up Mac and began updating this blog when I heard a loud electrical noise, almost like a brief explosion. Then the lights disappeared for good. Man, I hate the dark. And despite growing up on the edge of tornado alley, I hate storms too. Indeed, me no likey.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had a battery operated modem, but it turned out that wasn't working properly anyway, so the Internet was out too. And since our modem is also connected to our phone line, that meant our phones were out as well. No power=no lights, Internet or phone? Yup. It was definitely time to hit the hay. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Surprisingly, I slept for a good four hours until the wind woke me up again. The storm was much stronger. At that point, Brother was putting batteries in a radio and trying to listen to the weather. Tornadoes had begun forming around the area. Luckily, none ventured to our neighborhood. I was still worried about the stream in back of us though. I could hear the rush of the water in the ravine, an unfamiliar sound. Irene was supposed to arrive in our area by 8am Sunday morning, but it was clear she was about to make an entrance much earlier then that. Kevin went downstairs to check the sub pump in the furnished basement. I gathered up breakfast for both of us while listening to every one's stories of flooding on the radio. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The New York area is surrounded by nine bodies of water. This means that even a cat 2 storm is dangerous for the area, even inland. I knew there was no way Kevin would make it to work. He knew too. He'd called out before I awoke. Turns out Brother stayed up all night for me. What a good twin he is. As the wind and rain intensified, I pulled out my laptop and we watched movies until the eye of the hurricane passed over us. Then we peaked outside.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Huh," Kevin said. "I didn't even know that tree fell." I looked to my right. A big trunk was now stretched across the ravine and the neighbor's yard. Neither did I.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When the storm was over, we tentatively ventured outside to check for damage. Three transformers blew (the explosion I'd heard the night before), and lots of branches. I didn't see immediate damage from outside my doorstep. I had no idea how much destruction was just ten minutes away. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-4355316669063335612011-08-21T10:19:00.000-04:002011-08-21T10:19:39.990-04:00Back to the drawing board.Well.<br />
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Let's just say my new "job" didn't work out. After my first day of work, I received a phone call two hours after I got home. I was let go of my position, (the position was given to someone the owner knew). The receptionist told me I could pick up my day's pay whenever I wanted. I returned the next day where I was given $30 in cash. $7 an hour.<br />
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I was hired for $13.50 an hour.<br />
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To say I am not happy would be an understatement. I was hired for this position two weeks before my first day. That's two whole weeks I could have been looking for real employment elsewhere.<br />
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I've decided that while I am still looking in and around my area, I will also be looking at other states to apply for work. Has anyone here ever done this? Any success stories?<br />
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I need some positivity right now.katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6477566514884256849.post-65162460638070954452011-08-15T00:30:00.001-04:002011-08-15T00:32:15.529-04:00Bloggin with style!After mourning the loss of my PC Stanley, I've decided it was time to take the plunge and move forward.<br />
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Guess what I got? Hint: It's a tool I've always dreamed of. Have you guessed correctly? No?....Okay, I'll just tell you. I got a new laptop! But not just ANY laptop. It's a laptop I've only owned in my happiest of dreams. It's a......drum roll please:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yyn6sT4N454/TkiaaFUYYtI/AAAAAAAAAZk/NZEvuwqlHNI/s1600/P1020435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yyn6sT4N454/TkiaaFUYYtI/AAAAAAAAAZk/NZEvuwqlHNI/s320/P1020435.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>My dear dad was finally the one who convinced me to take the plunge. (After my stepmother, her best friend and my brother's attempts were not breaking me) Besides, I was in Best Buy staring at this master of creation. I couldn't say no. (I'll admit it, being on an interest free payment plan also helped in my decision.) After about 20 minutes of buyer's remorse (which consists of my usual worry wart ridiculousness and panic) I came around to being the giddiest woman on the planet. The second that baby booted up the nerd in me was ecstatic. 7 hours of battery life! Awesome programs! No viruses! High speed! The keys glow in the dark! It's glorious.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xp22KN9rL1I/Tkidmi96m2I/AAAAAAAAAZo/5jAkY0yAlRA/s1600/P1020436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xp22KN9rL1I/Tkidmi96m2I/AAAAAAAAAZo/5jAkY0yAlRA/s320/P1020436.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Stanley who? I can't recall. Say hello to, well...Mac. I know. How original. "Oh Katie," you must be saying, "Tell us how you <i>really</i> feel." No problem. Since I can't put my true feelings into written word at the moment (a rarity), here is my face:<br />
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I can't wait to catch up on all of your blogs again and get back to writing. It truly makes my day complete.<br />
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</div>katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738251806241310569noreply@blogger.com6