<?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-7581847461604036986</id><updated>2012-02-17T21:55:46.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Island of Happy-ness</title><subtitle type='html'>Maikaʻi Pomaikaʻi!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-9078094794420999182</id><published>2011-05-28T21:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T21:17:38.082-06:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Mind of Albert Einstein</title><content type='html'>By far, one of the greatest minds known to mankind...I present some of my favorite reasons as to why I love Albert Einstein:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behold:&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I never think of the future. It comes soon enough."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"If A is a success in life, then A equals x plus y plus z. Work is x; y is play; and z is keeping your mouth shut."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In order to form an immaculate member of a flock of sheep one must, above all, be a sheep." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"...one of the strongest motives that lead men to art and science is escape from everyday life with its painful crudity and hopeless dreariness, from the fetters of one's own ever-shifting desires. A finely tempered nature longs to escape from the personal life into the world of objective perception and thought." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt;Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Sign hanging in Einstein's office at Princeton) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A human being is a part of a whole, called by us "universe," a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest... a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-9078094794420999182?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/9078094794420999182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2011/05/from-mind-of-albert-einstein.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/9078094794420999182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/9078094794420999182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2011/05/from-mind-of-albert-einstein.html' title='From the Mind of Albert Einstein'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-3638977704404951863</id><published>2010-12-25T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T22:10:40.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Christmas in Heaven</title><content type='html'>The following is a beautiful poem that was given to my family this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;My First Christmas in Heaven &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;With tiny lights, like Heaven's stars, reflecting on the snow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;But the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;For it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I know how much you miss me, you know I hold you dear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;And be glad I'm spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I sent you each a special gift from my heavenly home above &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I sent you each a memory of my undying love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;After all, love is a gift more precious than pure gold &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;It was always most important in the stories Jesus told. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Please love and keep each other as my Father said to do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;For I can't count the blessing or love he has for each of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Remember, I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TRbNr-r9juI/AAAAAAAAADI/HEy-xrSRSVw/s1600/PC020222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TRbNr-r9juI/AAAAAAAAADI/HEy-xrSRSVw/s320/PC020222.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-3638977704404951863?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/3638977704404951863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-first-christmas-in-heaven.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/3638977704404951863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/3638977704404951863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-first-christmas-in-heaven.html' title='My First Christmas in Heaven'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TRbNr-r9juI/AAAAAAAAADI/HEy-xrSRSVw/s72-c/PC020222.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-5972304908844351040</id><published>2010-06-03T19:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T19:34:51.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Reasons Eve Was Created</title><content type='html'>10. Adam would frequently become lost in the garden because he would not ask for directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Adam would require someone to locate and hand him the remote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Adam would never go out and buy himself a new fig leaf when his wore out and would therefore need Eve to buy one for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Adam would never be able to make a doctor's, dentist, or haircut appointment for himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Adam would never remember which night to put the garbage on the curb. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. If the world was to be populated, men would never be able to handle the pain and discomfort of childbearing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. As the Keeper of the Garden, Adam would never remember where he left his tools. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Adam needed someone to blame his troubles on when he was caught hiding in the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It is not good for man to be alone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, the Number 1 reason Eve was created. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When God finished the creation of Adam, He stepped back, scratched his head, and said, "I can do better than that."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-5972304908844351040?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/5972304908844351040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/06/top-10-reasons-eve-was-created.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/5972304908844351040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/5972304908844351040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/06/top-10-reasons-eve-was-created.html' title='Top 10 Reasons Eve Was Created'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-434337770302435659</id><published>2010-05-10T22:49:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T16:07:34.158-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"A Journey Worth While" by Kevin Wheeler</title><content type='html'>This was written by my brother&amp;nbsp;after my Dad passed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;"The day was long. The trail was rough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;We’ve put many miles between the trailhead and us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Climbing the pass tested our stock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;The switchbacks were many, kept our eyes t’ward the top.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;To look at the mountains you can surely see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;That God had a plan on how t’would be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Every tree and every rock, the snow capped peaks,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;The bugle of an elk, the sound of a creek.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;As we near camp, we’re tired and sore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;It’s been a long day. We’ll ride no more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Now the sun sets on a day worth while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;It’s replaced by the moon in the shape of a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Staring at the campfire I am lost in my thoughts…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Time stands still…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;And I pray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Lord, it’s been a long day, now I’m ready to rest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;I know I ain’t perfect, but I tried my best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Thanks for your gifts, Lord, the ones that I love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;The days of plenty, the days of want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;The sunny days, the rainy days too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;There were times I wanted to quit, but you got me through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;You’ve always given me hope like the rising sun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;If I die before I wake, Lord, I hope to hear you say…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Well done."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-434337770302435659?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/434337770302435659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/05/journey-worth-while-by-kevin-wheeler.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/434337770302435659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/434337770302435659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/05/journey-worth-while-by-kevin-wheeler.html' title='&quot;A Journey Worth While&quot; by Kevin Wheeler'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-8734869702338491901</id><published>2010-01-25T11:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T11:04:48.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone else's thought...but a good one.</title><content type='html'>"May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-8734869702338491901?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/8734869702338491901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/someone-elses-thoughtbut-good-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/8734869702338491901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/8734869702338491901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/someone-elses-thoughtbut-good-one.html' title='Someone else&apos;s thought...but a good one.'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-5313386401071557316</id><published>2010-01-21T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T12:20:00.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Single Goddess Mantra</title><content type='html'>I am unique and individual.&lt;br /&gt;I am constantly growing and discovering myself&lt;br /&gt;and the world around me.&lt;br /&gt;I respect myself, as I respect others.&lt;br /&gt;I will only partake in healthy relationships.&lt;br /&gt;I find contentment from within, &lt;br /&gt;whether I am in a relationship or not.&lt;br /&gt;When I do love, I love fully and completely,&lt;br /&gt;and expect nothing but the same in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grow in Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-5313386401071557316?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/5313386401071557316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/single-goddess-mantra.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/5313386401071557316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/5313386401071557316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/single-goddess-mantra.html' title='The Single Goddess Mantra'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-2832045682236462732</id><published>2010-01-14T18:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T18:22:04.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buttprints in the Sand</title><content type='html'>One night I had a wondrous dream,&lt;br /&gt;One set of footprints there was seen,&lt;br /&gt;The footprints of my precious Lord,&lt;br /&gt;But mine were not along the shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then some strange prints appeared,&lt;br /&gt;And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"&lt;br /&gt;Those prints are large and round and neat,&lt;br /&gt;"But Lord, they are too big for feet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My child," He said in somber tones,&lt;br /&gt;"For miles I carried you along.&lt;br /&gt;I challenged you to walk in faith,&lt;br /&gt;But you refused and made me wait."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You disobeyed, you would not grow,&lt;br /&gt;The walk of faith, you would not know,&lt;br /&gt;So I got tired, I got fed up,&lt;br /&gt;And there I dropped you on your butt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because in life, there comes a time,&lt;br /&gt;When one must fight, and one must climb,&lt;br /&gt;When one must rise and take a stand,&lt;br /&gt;Or leave their butt prints in the sand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- author unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-2832045682236462732?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2832045682236462732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/buttprints-in-sand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/2832045682236462732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/2832045682236462732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/buttprints-in-sand.html' title='Buttprints in the Sand'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-1387617985293229952</id><published>2010-01-10T22:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T12:53:17.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Invictus</title><content type='html'>Out of the night that covers me, &lt;br /&gt;Black as the Pit from pole to pole, &lt;br /&gt;I thank whatever gods may be &lt;br /&gt;For my unconquerable soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the fell clutch of circumstance &lt;br /&gt;I have not winced nor cried aloud. &lt;br /&gt;Under the bludgeonings of chance &lt;br /&gt;My head is bloody, but unbowed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond this place of wrath and tears &lt;br /&gt;Looms but the Horror of the shade, &lt;br /&gt;And yet the menace of the years &lt;br /&gt;Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It matters not how strait the gate, &lt;br /&gt;How charged with punishments the scroll, &lt;br /&gt;I am the master of my fate: &lt;br /&gt;I am the captain of my soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;William Ernest Henley. 1849–1903 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;script&gt;document.write(unescape("%3Cstyle%20type%3D%22text/css%22%3E%0Abody%20%7B background-image %3A%20url%28%22http%3A//i342.photobucket.com/albums/o401/Thecutestblogontheblock/darlingbutterflybackgroundcopy.jpg %22%29%3B%20background-position%3A%20center%3B%20background-repeat%3A%20no-repeat%3B%20 background-attachment %3A%20fixed%3B%20%7D%0A%3C/style%3E%0A%3Cdiv%20id%3D%22tag%22%20 style%3D%22position%3Aabsolute %3B%20left%3A0px%3B%20top%3A30px%3B%20z-index%3A50%3B%20 width%3A150px%3B%20height%3A45px%3B%22%3E%0A%3Ca%20href%3D%22 http%3A//www.thecutestblogontheblock.com%22%20target%3D%22_blank%22%3E%0A%3Cimg%20src %3D%22http%3A//www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/images/tag.png%22%20border%3D%220%22/ %3E%0A%3C/a%3E%3C/div%3E%20"));&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-1387617985293229952?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/1387617985293229952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/invictus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/1387617985293229952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/1387617985293229952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2010/01/invictus.html' title='Invictus'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-2662662609991667593</id><published>2009-09-06T15:01:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T15:13:29.432-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Soon to be spring at BYU-I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQlRbR7jsI/AAAAAAAAACI/wNTB7Jb5w4g/s1600-h/n696825996_652155_7723.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378464836298182338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQlRbR7jsI/AAAAAAAAACI/wNTB7Jb5w4g/s400/n696825996_652155_7723.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday, February 25, 2008 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least that is what we hope...until it starts to snow again. But, the time has come to prepare for the inevitable twitterpation that seems to occur on the BYU-I campus every spring....AKA:"Oh crap, not again, please make it stop!!!" What exactly is "Twitterpation?" Oddly enough, there are definitions on the internet. Whether correct or not, the best I found was: "Twitterpated: An enjoyable disorder characterized by feelings of excitement, anticipation, high hopes, recent memories of interludes, giddiness, and physical overstimulation which occur simultaneously when experiencing a new love. These feelings take over without warning, usually at odd times (such as at a check-out line), with or without the partner present, and make it difficult to concentrate on anything but romance. They interfere with work and safe driving, but should be experienced at least once in every person's lifetime."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, that begs the question: "How in the heck are we to get twitterpated?" Either the guys here are married, taken, or too scared to try. "Why not just ask the guy out," you ask? Well, if we do, then that freaks the guy out even more! How dare we show interest in a guy! He will view it as only showing an interest in getting married. (True, but that's besides the point.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are told to find someone here, but we can't hang out. We are told that we should "stop looking and it will find us." What?! How is that supposed to work? Someone online put it best in regards to finding "that 'special someone' when you are not looking," when they said, "I'm so sick of hearing this. How exactly do you "not look" when you want a relationship? I lost my watch about 4 months ago. I quit looking about two months ago, and I still haven't found it." Amen. I don't want to say how long ago I "lost my watch," but it seems like everyone else knows what time it is and I wasn't even given a sundial! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are also probably so petrified to get our hearts broken that we don't even try. My roommate Sarah, told me that "sometimes we need to put our heart out in the middle of the highway and let it get run over a few times before it will stick to a tire." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I will try to turn my heart into roadkill. And for those who actually get to participate in the "BYU-I DO," or the "Ring Before Spring, or Your Money Back," I say unto you: "Congratulations, I hope you have fun!" But for the time being, please let everyone else wallow in our own lack of twitterpation so that we can just enjoy the spring!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378465275228328754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQlq-bCEzI/AAAAAAAAACQ/FzH_rs6uCq8/s400/102_3036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-2662662609991667593?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2662662609991667593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/soon-to-be-spring-at-byu-i.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/2662662609991667593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/2662662609991667593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/soon-to-be-spring-at-byu-i.html' title='Soon to be spring at BYU-I'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQlRbR7jsI/AAAAAAAAACI/wNTB7Jb5w4g/s72-c/n696825996_652155_7723.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-6011743042992559148</id><published>2009-09-06T14:44:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T15:01:18.261-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sudden Sign of the Self-Sustained Single-hood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sunday, June 1, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That is probably not the best description, but it had a good ring of alliteration to it. But mainly, my premise is about the pains of going through the "Single- Hood" (...for further reading, may I suggest "What I Wish I'd Known When I was Single" by John Bytheway...pure poetry). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378459125122915426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQgE_fo3GI/AAAAAAAAABg/VqEuNOOiA_o/s400/n696825996_898230_9536.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www/momorialcards.com/images/blue_heart_shaped_clouds.jpg"&gt;http://www/momorialcards.com/images/blue_heart_shaped_clouds.jpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some of the odd instances shown on the movie the “Single’s Ward” ring true (or in the case of our small selection…a Single’s Branch), yet I find that there are missing references to the biggest problem faced by the members of these institutions (sometimes best described as mental institutions). Anyhow, I am mainly speaking for the female gender when I point out the difficulties of finding dates and/or friends within the circle of the people you meet with on a weekly or sometimes biweekly basis. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When searching for someone who seems to you to be a good match for you, it is somewhat dangerous to make this fact known to the other members of your sex for the following may occur: the recipient of this information may miraculously find the object of your own affection to be irresistible to them. This causes concern. On the one hand, you are in the state of mind ready to pull out a full-on “smack down” on this person, thereby creating a hostile environment to be involved with. Another issue with the "crush crusher” (or the person who now realizes that they also have a crush on the person that you have had a crush on), is that you may begin to doubt yourself in relation to gaining a relationship with this person--- for the other person might "get" to him before you can (...especially if you work reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllly slowly). This will not end well for someone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378460772019735250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 104px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQhk2qcCtI/AAAAAAAAABo/abvz-Xg9Mrc/s400/s696825996_898110_7239.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/christinielsen/318070770/"&gt;http://www.flickr.com/photos/christinielsen/318070770/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So now comes the conundrum: Do you let this person spin their web? Do you brawl with this person in the proverbial emotional “cage-fight” of the Single’s Branch? Or do you secretly sacrifice your entire attachment, hoping that the “crush” will find someone else (or already have someone else), so that you do not have to watch the “crusher” with the championship title (in other words, the title, "Mrs")? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;(*Odd analogy, yes, but you get my drift. I haven’t been able to watch the “rip your heart out movies (aka: Chick Flicks), because of the whole “ripping your heart out” situation…so I am left with “blow-up, explosive action” movies to quell my theatrical lust…).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Furthermore, not only can you be faced with the fact that a friend has a crush on the same person that you do while in the “Single-hood,” but there may come the occasion, that they are acquainted with someone that you may find attractive and desirable. It then creates a horrible situation if you let them know this, or heaven forbid, ask them for help to gain favor with the guy. In this case, you have reversed the situation becoming a “crusher” yourself. Ouch. This is probably why singles “hang out” or do not even ask people out because the politics behind the whole thing becomes so mind boggling that ‘it’ may not be worth ‘it’… (Who am I kidding? ‘It’ is worth ‘it’, if I can just get ‘it’!) When did human relations become so difficult?! This is probably why arranged marriages were so popular back in the day... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=898258&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=15689029540&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;auser=0&amp;amp;oid=15689029540&amp;amp;id=696825996"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378458699133672706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQfsMj43QI/AAAAAAAAABY/Fh6TlnRMKmE/s400/n696825996_1665819_1130.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;By Mark Burdett on Flickrwww.flickr.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-6011743042992559148?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/6011743042992559148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/sudden-sign-of-self-sustained-single.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/6011743042992559148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/6011743042992559148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/sudden-sign-of-self-sustained-single.html' title='The Sudden Sign of the Self-Sustained Single-hood'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQgE_fo3GI/AAAAAAAAABg/VqEuNOOiA_o/s72-c/n696825996_898230_9536.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-2358900559896724276</id><published>2009-09-06T14:20:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T14:41:24.941-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart on the Highway...AKA: What Am I Getting Myself Into?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Circa: September 5, 2008&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, I did it...I took the plunge...yes...I went searching online for a date. Did I do it to research a book I am writing? Did I do it because everyone else did? Did I do it because I am sick of being bored on Friday nights? Whatever the reason, I took the plunge. Let's see if I swim. After all, you can't hug a computer! Well, you can, but then people look at you weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378453190933734818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 361px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQark6r5aI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lkixQyjJ4UQ/s400/a696825996_1686752_4524.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Fingers Crossed by D (LetArtBe) on Flickr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Update: December 28, 2008&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Coming to the close of the year, I have taken it upon myself to review the things that have worked and/or failed in an attempt to progress and become a "New and Improved" person...in whatever meaning of the phrase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months ago, I tried to go online in order to better my seemingly slim chances at finding someone to hang out with...let alone with the hope of finding anything more involved than that. I realized at some point over the summer (and many seasons before that) that the guys I knew, or had access to, would not make the first move, and I was too afraid to move for them. And I can only take so many "I have a guy for you..." or "You should get set up with..." only to wait, and wait, and wait...for these "quotation marks" to make the said set up. So, I ended up doubting the viability of these people's claims of having "the guy for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, online I went! Shy little me...who can't really talk to guys in the real world, thought it would be easier in cyberspace...I say until that, Shah! The closest I got to anything remotely intriguing was a guy in Utah...I will call him "Skydiving S." Although he lived in Utah...(not exactly close enough from an impromptu get together)...our online "relationship" created a portal for great conversations and a way in which I could allow my heart to be placed in a vulnerable position and in the way of otherwise unknown dangers. I had previously been told (and previously mentioned in my note entitled: "Soon to Be Spring At BYU-I") that "sometimes we need to put our heart out in the middle of the highway and let it get run over a few times before it will stick to a tire." Going online was my less graphic way of putting my heart on the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately for this metaphor, I believe that after I put my heart out there, it continued to cringe and roll up in the fetal position at every passing motorist.&lt;photo&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378453642559118386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQbF3WkXDI/AAAAAAAAAA4/JiMkFEuw5II/s400/a696825996_1665768_6749.jpg" border="0" /&gt; android.hameandinfancy.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The "relationship" of Skydiving S. and myself lasted less than two months...initially giving my schoolgirl heart the hope of something more. This was especially due to his typing of sweet nothings into my proverbial cyberspace ears. Slowly...(and yet seemingly quickly), I must have scared the poor guy off, because after a few weeks of no reply (his previous response-time was every other day or so), I realized that it was not going any further....dang, ‘cuz the kid was hot! But I digress. Although I got no formal, "Thanks, but No Thanks," it hurt all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the drawing board! My less than happy experience online was only compounded by the countless peaks in the "Creep-o Richter Scale" and the several "not quite there" thoughts due to the ideals that I had in my head. I mean, come on, it is easier to say that you are too picky, than to realize that guys just "aren't that into you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I gave myself three months (as suggested by websites, and online dating books everywhere to "give it a chance!") but ended up bored and not wanting to spend the money on it anymore. During the allotted three months, I went searching, and tried to find that "Certain Someone." However, all I found was that out of all the people out there, there seemed to be none in my neck of the woods. I gave the online thing a chance...maybe now was just not the right time for the universe to align my social life with my keyboard. Maybe it just takes a little more cosmic shifting or just plain patience on my part.On the bright side, I did however, find great material for my new book, soon to be on bookshelves near you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378454716322444354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 309px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQcEXbsdEI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZKbARv7hboo/s400/Picture4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-2358900559896724276?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2358900559896724276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-heart-on-highwayaka-what-am-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/2358900559896724276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/2358900559896724276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-heart-on-highwayaka-what-am-i.html' title='My Heart on the Highway...AKA: What Am I Getting Myself Into?!'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/SqQark6r5aI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lkixQyjJ4UQ/s72-c/a696825996_1686752_4524.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-4142343601517082716</id><published>2009-09-06T14:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T14:12:57.238-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Keri has a new pet....Peeve, that is.</title><content type='html'>Thursday, April 9, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed a common occurrence lately, and I have to discuss it, because it is driving me nuts! So, be prepared, because I am going to vent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People react to new stimuli in very intriguing ways. For instance, people cringe in horror (or pity) after seeing the scars from my surgery. I can deal with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are also the blunt reactions of people who tell me that these scars are not very attractive. I know this already. Then there are those people who have said that they look like some “idiot's botched suicide attempt.” This makes me feel all warm and toasty. I suppose I should be comforted in the fact that the scars are on the "wrong" side of my wrist or else people would REALLY get the wrong idea. (*Side note: Honestly, if suicide really was the cause of my scars, would it be the business of the people who are pointing this fact out?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that people feel as though they must point out certain things? The last time I checked, I was there when I got the scars! I may not have been conscious, but I sure realized that something was different in the aftermath of my body being sliced into. And, let me see if I remember right...yep, that's right...the dang scars are attached to me! They will be on ME forever, so these people really don't have to worry about what my scars look like. Believe it or not, but they are actually healing and fading. Everyday, they are looking less and less like those of Frankenstein's Monster. Everyday, it looks less and less like my hand was cut off and sewn back on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the main point of my tirade is this: Most people have quirks, idiosyncrasies, and distinctive traits that make them, them. Whether by birth or otherwise, everyone has something unique about them. We can not plan on all the things that life hands us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disabilities, injuries, illnesses, and other devastating events do happen and can rip someone’s heart out if they let them. There are even trials that are so unspeakably tragic, that I would never wish them on anyone. In this respect, I believe I lucked out with the little scars that I have. As long as we are able to pick ourselves up from the things that seem to suffocate us, and as long as we don’t allow circumstances and events to engulf our spirit and drag us down into the deep chasm of despair and discouragement, then we can make it through anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stitches are gone, the surgery is over, and I am now trying to accept the permanent outward blemishes that prove that I am different. So, if you have a valid question or statement about my scars, by all means, feel free. But I just wanted to thank all of the “Captains of the Obvious” for reminding me that I am not perfect. But I hope you also know that I can live with these scars…because they are mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-4142343601517082716?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/4142343601517082716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/keri-has-new-petpeeve-that-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/4142343601517082716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/4142343601517082716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/keri-has-new-petpeeve-that-is.html' title='Keri has a new pet....Peeve, that is.'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-6154828229820959085</id><published>2009-09-05T14:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T14:13:49.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings of a Bored Librarian</title><content type='html'>I can't listen to music at work anymore...so let's just say that it leaves a lot of time for pondering...these are my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 10, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just contemplating a certain movie recently. Maybe you have seen it? It is called X-Men Origins: Wolverine. I just realized that poor Wolverine has bad luck with women! And watching this movie made me think of the other X-Men movies. I found a certain series of events that started in the second movie to be very entertaining. To those who haven't seen these movies, you might want to pass on reading this, because this is your only "Spoiler Alert."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In X2: X-Men United, there is a conversation between Jean Grey and Wolverine that goes a little something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jean Grey: "Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, Logan. They don't take him home. They marry the good guy." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Wolverine: "I could be the good guy." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jean Grey: "The good guy sticks around." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, while I was...(let's just call it "working"), I was wondering if this was true or not. I am going to forego all of the evidence that some girls do in fact have a thing for the "Bad Boy." However, fast-forward to the resolution of these "Days of Our Mutant Lives" in the third X-Men Movie (X-Men: The Last Stand). Jean Gray, (the same girl who was so wise with her previous comment), later kills the good guy, and in turn gets killed by the dangerous guy. Huh....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 12, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished reading a book by Steve Martin called "The Pleasure of My Company." I actually enjoyed his writing style (minus several questionable parts). But there are a couple of quotes that I LOVED! The main character, neurotic Daniel Pecan Cambridge, discusses charisma:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Wouldn't we all like to know the extent of our own magnetism?...But my charisma has yet to fully bloom. It's as though something is keeping me back from it. Perhaps fear: What would happen to me and to those around me if my power became uncontained? If I were suddenly just too sensational to be managed? Maybe my obsessions are there to keep me from being too powerfully alluring, to keep my would-be lovers and adventures in check."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another major theme in the book is that of the "quiet heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"...In the deeper hours of the night I began to look at myself, to consider myself and my condition, to measure the life I'd led so far. I did not know what made me this way. I did not know of any other way I could be. I did not know what was inside me or how I could redeem what was hidden there. There must be a key or person or thing, or song or poem or belief, or old saw that could access it, but they all seemed so far away, and after I drifted further and further into self-absorption, I closed the evening with this desolate thought: &lt;b&gt;There are few takers for the quiet heart." &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, he finishes off the book by giving evidences of the many "takers of the quiet heart." Fortunate for those such as myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 23, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I shift the books, my mind shifts as well. I was stuck in the "Relationship" section (oddly enough between "Religion" and "Politics") for quite a while the last couple of weeks and, of course, it got me thinking.I think that we all fantasize about our wedding day from the time of our first "Happily Ever After" story in our childhood. I have witnessed several different version of supposed "Happily Ever After" beginnings (AKA: Weddings) and I think that people are definitely being misled. Now, I am not saying that I am cynical about the concept of "marriage," so much as the concept of "wedding". Believe you me, I am CRAVING the opportunity to be married. Even if the mere thought of it creates a mixed sense of hope, fear, dread, and simple disbelief that it would/will happen. I do, however, find that most of the examples in my realm of experience are not the best. For instance: Out of the 13 marriages in my family ("Wait, you only have 10 siblings" you say...that is correct...stew over that for a while)---5 of those were elopements, and we have had 5 divorces (not all from the elopers). A positive spin could be that since half of all marriages have already ended in my family, the odds should be in my favor. You might say that I am a little apprehensive to try to make this a selling point to the poor sap that falls for me. He will automatically be canonized, I am sure. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, back to weddings. Yes, most little girls dream of the big wedding with all of the trimmings. Once upon a time----maybe, but anymore eloping sounds like a pretty good idea. I would love to get sealed in the Laie Hawai'i temple. Not all of my family can go to Hawai'i, and not very many are active members, so not very many of my family members will be able to be at my wedding anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Receptions are a WHOLE other topic of discussion. I have recently been a bridesmaid, and I would never want to wish that on my worst enemies. I can think of a couple fun things about receptions: gifts, cake, bouquet toss, and family. But it is kind of hard to do that when you have got tons and tons of "well-wishers" vying for your attention. They last so long anyway! The poor couple just wants to get on with the rest of their lives but have to perform for everyone that they do, or in most cases, don’t even know! I think that it is more important to plan the marriage and not the wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I would have a big wedding with all the people and all the trimmings if the provisions were available to me. But if I were given the choice of having a honeymoon, or a $400 cake…I would choose the honeymoon. My being the youngest, and last person in my family to be married (the nieces and nephews are even passing me on the way to the altar) makes it very difficult to make a decision as to how my pre-marriage ceremony will go. I feel both obligated and due for a celebration at the same time of not really wanting to go through all of the stress and expense of a wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 24, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like numbers and patterns of numbers. For instance: my brother is 2 years, 2 months, and 22 days older than I am....it was probably my idea in the pre-earth life. I have thought about the perfect day to get married....I know, I know...not gonna happen for a while, but just bear with me. If I were to get married 4/24/2010, I would still be 24 years old (for four more days). If you add 4 and the 2 and 4 you get 10 which is the year. This would also be on a Saturday. Or, if I got married 6/24/2010, there are a couple different patterns. The 24th of June is on a Thursday, sadly. If you add 2 and 4, that makes 6, such as the month. Or, if you multiply the 2 and 4 together, than the pattern would be 6, 8, 10....Come to think of it, I could get married 6/8/2010, but that is on a Tuesday. Poor guy I end up with. Hopefully I meet him soon and we hit it off well, because I would have to wait until another even year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 2, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it sad when Facebook quizzes ruefully define your life. You take them hoping for a good outcome; only post the ones that you want people to see; delete the others...and yet, you still take them. Why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-6154828229820959085?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/6154828229820959085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/musings-of-bored-librarian.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/6154828229820959085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/6154828229820959085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/musings-of-bored-librarian.html' title='Musings of a Bored Librarian'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7581847461604036986.post-3664141542878697840</id><published>2009-09-05T14:29:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T14:12:22.380-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook, Twitter, and Blogspot- Oh, MY!</title><content type='html'>It takes a while to set up a blog, I will tell you that much. I think I could be on here forever if I wanted to! I will try to update this stuff every once in a while, but I suppose I need to get out and have a life for the moment...I will return shortly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my blogs are going to come from notes I have already published on Facebook, so the dates will be WAY off, I am sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7581847461604036986-3664141542878697840?l=forthehillofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/feeds/3664141542878697840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/facebook-twitter-and-blogspot-oh-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/3664141542878697840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7581847461604036986/posts/default/3664141542878697840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://forthehillofit.blogspot.com/2009/09/facebook-twitter-and-blogspot-oh-my.html' title='Facebook, Twitter, and Blogspot- Oh, MY!'/><author><name>Keri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00947790487399538782</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCvP1XFzD2Y/TTtsfDtRtII/AAAAAAAAADs/YMTXfd9xOrc/s220/164148_478341760996_696825996_6313154_1608072_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
