tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30565659299974144072024-03-05T16:19:27.538-05:00A Carnival For Those Who DreamI don't like haikus<br>
they're too restrictive in thought<br>
a dreamer needs more<br>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.comBlogger111125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-17850817431909574622011-07-16T19:40:00.000-04:002011-07-16T19:40:39.701-04:00Horror HappinessEveryone knows my favorite season in Florida isn't really a season; it's an event that runs 26 nights from the end of September through Halloween. An event that I have attended every year since 2004. But this year, I'm going to experience it in a whole new way.<br />
<br />
Last Tuesday, I auditioned for a "scareactor" position at <a href="http://www.halloweenhorrornights.com/orlando/">Halloween Horror Nights</a>. And I was fortunate enough to be cast!<br />
<br />
In memory of the past seven years of attending as a guest, here's some pics (in terrible resolution, I might add) from HHN 14 through HHN 20.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiAlJ85nJvu4UR4tq9aRrcmdG1LyRmgBBj3Y7XlD2lqGSIqf9K-Gn5zMmmbChy9QI_7Rv9ONcJ8PtBbqtn60QhyphenhyphenTRN-GgDtBJwIHb154W3MNA8rhfCA1Gihj_BFT3ifqZ81Jp6NfbhFk/s1600/HHN+04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiAlJ85nJvu4UR4tq9aRrcmdG1LyRmgBBj3Y7XlD2lqGSIqf9K-Gn5zMmmbChy9QI_7Rv9ONcJ8PtBbqtn60QhyphenhyphenTRN-GgDtBJwIHb154W3MNA8rhfCA1Gihj_BFT3ifqZ81Jp6NfbhFk/s1600/HHN+04.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 14 (2004): 2X The Fear<br />Billie (right) and me (left) with a pumpkin friend in the corn maze that connected both parks that year</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbWScFwMALU9d3IHhECp9T7K4ydyzerz-JmJeEmZuw3q-rAIl4qtl7jTQ4lmVvj6_77AKgg3Yl0JllJd0z206LUXxdbmHm5isDkSy6vvM62dZqyIj0MwTWGJ-FxtzJ18Htmqr_3pskSQ/s1600/05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbWScFwMALU9d3IHhECp9T7K4ydyzerz-JmJeEmZuw3q-rAIl4qtl7jTQ4lmVvj6_77AKgg3Yl0JllJd0z206LUXxdbmHm5isDkSy6vvM62dZqyIj0MwTWGJ-FxtzJ18Htmqr_3pskSQ/s320/05.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 15 (2005): Tales of Terror<br />Scary decor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sdRE9EYmFy9Lbrz3RjCu8yYeWQ2PwX3MbaqgU36RPV84iK8dHp_43_9BPm6UtMuJaaL-NCpIdRmfmkzc6veK34OReDpMHKar92hXLIGszrrjQPK3HcY80VIOB1VbVqk0CpgwIKt1k04/s1600/Pics+2+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sdRE9EYmFy9Lbrz3RjCu8yYeWQ2PwX3MbaqgU36RPV84iK8dHp_43_9BPm6UtMuJaaL-NCpIdRmfmkzc6veK34OReDpMHKar92hXLIGszrrjQPK3HcY80VIOB1VbVqk0CpgwIKt1k04/s320/Pics+2+003.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 16 (2006): Sweet 16<br />Angela (left) & me (right) enjoy a drink </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr-k4IyVvEcn6HNc5kLRdmw8drOtVnbKmG7ekTHTJEfLyHM0djAa-Uo9roeUI8sJaYIKbf8x_Op7klUBcmQrLgOhZp_UWrQAun17kepQylfS-8dBIZrzr_RLVeT-n6J9VPgzLnDR4NcoM/s1600/Pics+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr-k4IyVvEcn6HNc5kLRdmw8drOtVnbKmG7ekTHTJEfLyHM0djAa-Uo9roeUI8sJaYIKbf8x_Op7klUBcmQrLgOhZp_UWrQAun17kepQylfS-8dBIZrzr_RLVeT-n6J9VPgzLnDR4NcoM/s320/Pics+003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 16 (2006): Sweet 16<br />Cindy (left), body collector (middle), me (right)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtgXs1HWMKbQ9yh5OsuS71cPh9zSfhWZlj6rn1VufDGKj6yrQo8UIxb_RNPAm90lxpKPpTwpFm1pkynSZBskz4e6AfMuHfQvNRjCYMVIth0Dw7wQYY-sMTmK7q8TVaZ7eKaIpfGBZ0jw/s1600/Pics+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtgXs1HWMKbQ9yh5OsuS71cPh9zSfhWZlj6rn1VufDGKj6yrQo8UIxb_RNPAm90lxpKPpTwpFm1pkynSZBskz4e6AfMuHfQvNRjCYMVIth0Dw7wQYY-sMTmK7q8TVaZ7eKaIpfGBZ0jw/s320/Pics+004.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 16 (2006): Sweet 16<br />Cindy (left), Jack (middle), me (right)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjP-IqL2BMXj-3CW9uNEy0jHaERDPv8Cmxlw9fLqgwjsalDb8chUngunIFYR2rCBYB_yywsgcEunl53B_72R7cBMr5c8bylriOPpkLv3ABmhQa4WNNyHxaCnC71XgIJY7SlRNAHqCKtxo/s1600/riptour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjP-IqL2BMXj-3CW9uNEy0jHaERDPv8Cmxlw9fLqgwjsalDb8chUngunIFYR2rCBYB_yywsgcEunl53B_72R7cBMr5c8bylriOPpkLv3ABmhQa4WNNyHxaCnC71XgIJY7SlRNAHqCKtxo/s320/riptour.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 17 (2007): Carnival of Carnage<br />The year of my first "RIP Tour"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLsFnN5J5XcztOiAoPz2VIPT6SnpgSJmUeCY_dkTEKtmijiLzRyFIRHCVQZU4kIiYWq_08hUKqNE-Fr-YMWAiA_ewhq4gUa9zCdv5DD414wCH2BHmxEpa19bP2uunWqmEEPaGlPw41To/s1600/funhouse07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLsFnN5J5XcztOiAoPz2VIPT6SnpgSJmUeCY_dkTEKtmijiLzRyFIRHCVQZU4kIiYWq_08hUKqNE-Fr-YMWAiA_ewhq4gUa9zCdv5DD414wCH2BHmxEpa19bP2uunWqmEEPaGlPw41To/s320/funhouse07.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 17 (2007): Carnival of Carnage<br />Lito (left) and me (right) at Jack's Fun House of Fear - in 3D!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePDzuIfGOiq7oLsUOgQ1kyv0b09HEorEi8X5cwNosJw4gx82aBwnAdHsHs7zp3rD1a35jQTAwkaiNfA0k_1G10H6xTfBbQmiVeDBXRz_SU_sdXTrasHf0DnwmiaK0Bw2ECoj97pxykl8/s1600/Halloween+2008+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePDzuIfGOiq7oLsUOgQ1kyv0b09HEorEi8X5cwNosJw4gx82aBwnAdHsHs7zp3rD1a35jQTAwkaiNfA0k_1G10H6xTfBbQmiVeDBXRz_SU_sdXTrasHf0DnwmiaK0Bw2ECoj97pxykl8/s320/Halloween+2008+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 18 (2008): Reflections of Fear<br />Cindy (right) and me (left) with the Evil Queen in the Scary Tales scarezone, my fave that year!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnyV9suJPpg8WVB2Loc_CgEalIg7p9Dh3i5uYoEnr7sjb3ba2TFE2CPjrL6Z3wgXWRbvB8-mFjM4mmtF6ynXvsM3XxsALyPoI7Ei8JJprvqfaDBqemQwkNd9ly4rnOqy54mZDg4h54Rw/s1600/08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnyV9suJPpg8WVB2Loc_CgEalIg7p9Dh3i5uYoEnr7sjb3ba2TFE2CPjrL6Z3wgXWRbvB8-mFjM4mmtF6ynXvsM3XxsALyPoI7Ei8JJprvqfaDBqemQwkNd9ly4rnOqy54mZDg4h54Rw/s320/08.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 18 (2008): Reflections of Fear<br />Cindy (right) and me (left) in the American Gothic scarezone</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOap94EP8GC7vXpmBljX2ZEzTLWFx5it93WxIaSAWOMp4sRch1RbujSSmMfexTATzdaEGzhFG5hoHHFDUbAFb-axA9NW1KCUO392SjM6Mh15Qa10cIxqAIcfNmPrilw9KQvPB9-nIoTyQ/s1600/bach2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOap94EP8GC7vXpmBljX2ZEzTLWFx5it93WxIaSAWOMp4sRch1RbujSSmMfexTATzdaEGzhFG5hoHHFDUbAFb-axA9NW1KCUO392SjM6Mh15Qa10cIxqAIcfNmPrilw9KQvPB9-nIoTyQ/s320/bach2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 19 (2009): Ripped from the Silver Screen<br />At my bachelorette party</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KMMHa1owFd1JKq1VKeo9UXF3stStVBbZY5fVTxC3G3xeHkgmQpzQWODLt7iwVC5om1rBsaMovBKpbKmOpwoPKUOub-epzZqnoIHGN2P26gjZMi_XKjjQEQHaScz0PkqVJyiez7F3t8E/s1600/Bach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KMMHa1owFd1JKq1VKeo9UXF3stStVBbZY5fVTxC3G3xeHkgmQpzQWODLt7iwVC5om1rBsaMovBKpbKmOpwoPKUOub-epzZqnoIHGN2P26gjZMi_XKjjQEQHaScz0PkqVJyiez7F3t8E/s320/Bach.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 19 (2009): Ripped from the Silver Screen<br />Maggie's (left) first time at HHN - for my bachelorette!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6u7deF3Bif5N7B6PQR8TSaqEYPbAj9SWRbuzEuMAZOtIOXjBKJ1eMiLz1Oe_bCUqrRn5m6dIl39syoSr7UrH6s3GGv3J5KP0WaCj_M3IZjkoKX3I2-aGpEBUVjXDMKwUZO0JgiU6n9QY/s1600/2010-09-24_19-03-51_523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6u7deF3Bif5N7B6PQR8TSaqEYPbAj9SWRbuzEuMAZOtIOXjBKJ1eMiLz1Oe_bCUqrRn5m6dIl39syoSr7UrH6s3GGv3J5KP0WaCj_M3IZjkoKX3I2-aGpEBUVjXDMKwUZO0JgiU6n9QY/s320/2010-09-24_19-03-51_523.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HHN 20 (2010): Twenty Years of Fear<br />Fear himself!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggh66veyN3a_SOM4f3kOv12WwVfbX6Xl1wj_dZMVpdwruXlJ1lYmWnroZQ1paP05HEfNXfwZkkwO5_TxJKNCu4MMm-UWrjVdJHp9jH7khgwVAqvywi2lHbCJQERYtgwuR9bCP5PkPmh88/s1600/2010-09-24_19-10-12_188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggh66veyN3a_SOM4f3kOv12WwVfbX6Xl1wj_dZMVpdwruXlJ1lYmWnroZQ1paP05HEfNXfwZkkwO5_TxJKNCu4MMm-UWrjVdJHp9jH7khgwVAqvywi2lHbCJQERYtgwuR9bCP5PkPmh88/s320/2010-09-24_19-10-12_188.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A staple for any HHN event</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Looking forward to the excitement that HHN 21 is sure to bring!!<br />
Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-74144003907009172652011-07-04T00:03:00.000-04:002011-07-04T00:03:50.234-04:00My Grandfather's Fourth of July Reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWgA_Q5Ciil55ycffJv1GWmGOsy_t24UQ35sY8gOLFj4Biu4I2GMBh4dxioOHFZvySudO3txHoMDREZD-pj-QH0asKSPBFyayq9NH_E9wyyIPsVk_kF96uBX9Rln43_n5L9ZATTkUkNc/s1600/Fireworks+04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWgA_Q5Ciil55ycffJv1GWmGOsy_t24UQ35sY8gOLFj4Biu4I2GMBh4dxioOHFZvySudO3txHoMDREZD-pj-QH0asKSPBFyayq9NH_E9wyyIPsVk_kF96uBX9Rln43_n5L9ZATTkUkNc/s200/Fireworks+04.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
In honor of Fourth of July, I wanted to share this wonderfully written email from my grampy - the original family writer.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dear
Ones:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The stuff
that saturates newspapers and e-mail this time of year set off some
reflections. As a kid, the Fourth of July was to me second in
importance only to Christmas. </span>Beginning
with our January birthdays, my brother and I saved our pennies
for the day in late June when we would spend hours in Klingansmith's
store laboriously selecting fireworks. We sought the biggest
bang for our buck well before the phrase was invented. And year after
year, Bob and I staged one great Fourth of July celebration after
another.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
my most memorable Fourth of July, ever, was in 1945. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
you know, I was a Navy pilot. In late 1944, I was assigned to a
squadron that flew large, four-engined airplanes equipped for aerial
mapping. On the morning of July 4, 1945, ours was one of four
squadron planes that took off from Iwo Jima and set a northerly
course for the island of Honshu, Japan. We had been told
that battered elements of the Imperial Japanese Fleet might
be hiding along the shore of Tokyo Bay. We were to fly up to
Tokyo's front door and try to find and photograph them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
we neared Honshu, wispy cirrus began appearing above us and
below, a blanket of clouds could be seen at 10,000 feet covering
the land ahead. Shortly, a dozen P-51 Army fighters assigned
to fly cover for us materialized, dropped their auxiliary tanks and
took up their positions. Ahead, someone spotted the snow-clad cone
of Mt. Fuji poking up through the gray blanket which by then obscured
everything below. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The blanket
extended as far as we could see, so as we neared the most promising
target area, we decided to go down and find out what lay beneath.
We popped out of the cloud layer at about 7,500 feet only to find
another thick layer below at two or three thousand feet. Mt. Fuji
now presented us with a view of only its middle - a truncated cone
suspended between cloud layers which obscured both base and summit..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our
chances of locating and photographing anything on the ground appeared to be
nil. We were flying in the white middle layer of an Oreo - socked
in above and socked in below. Nevertheless, our quartet split
into pairs, in an attempt to cover opposite shores of Tokyo Bay
simultaneously. A half hour of nothing followed - no flak, no enemy
fighters. We just droned along, unsure of where we were, with clouds
above and below. Radio traffic began picking up. The P-51 guys
began muttering about fuel. This was mission was futile, crazy, not worth
the risk, a waste of time. Everybody wanted to bag it and go
home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then, "Jesus,
look at that!" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dead
ahead was a rapidly widening hole in the blanket below. And
there, bathed in rain and gray cloud wisps, was a large jumble of
ships lying at anchor or berthed at makeshift piers. A miracle, a million
to one shot! There followed much yelling on the intercom -
making sure that our photographers were catching every element
of the scene below. We passed over the hole in less than a minute,
then banked sharply for another pass. But the hole in the
blanket had closed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our
fighter escort lit out for home shortly after. We nosed
about for another half hour in the cloud sandwich hoping for another
hole, then turned South, also. Once back on Iwo, there was no
celebration. It had been a long, tense day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Next
day, I'm told, there was an article in the <em>New York Times</em> headed,
"Navy Discovers Remnants of Japanese Fleet." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Happy
Fourth of July.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Love,
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Grampy<o:p></o:p></span></div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-17524151972870801162011-05-20T18:11:00.001-04:002011-05-20T18:11:49.259-04:00Still Soul SearchingI'm still planning to complete the previously mentioned Soul Journaling project. However, life's gotten busy. I'm juggling a few photography projects, which I couldn't be more thrilled about. <br/> <br/> I'm propelling myself into a world that I have little experience in. And it's awesome. I'm glad I made the final decision to put grad school on hold (after one mere semester - I know, I know). I now have time to learn photography rules and techniques... so that I can eventually break them. <br/> <br/> It's been a long time since I've been this passionate about something. Genuinely passionate. A keep-you-up-at-night sensation that seems more appropriate for a teenage crush, but you're convinced it's a full out love affair. <br/> <br/> My eyes see the world differently these days. Everything is a potential photo. Everything is alive, has a colorful pulse, a beautiful breath. I see quirky characters in unique scenes and common objects that bleed new rhythms. I have so many new stories to tell. <br/> <br/> Who knew that life behind the lens could feel so fulfilling? <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9</div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-25761615000215817672011-03-31T20:50:00.001-04:002011-03-31T20:52:41.678-04:00Soul Journaling, Day 3 and 4<a href="http://sarahwhitmire.blogspot.com/2008/07/s-j-day-3-critics-and-how-do-we-protect.html">Day 3</a> and <a href="http://sarahwhitmire.blogspot.com/2008/07/soul-journaling-day-4.html">day 4</a> of <a href="http://www.souljournaling.com/about.php">Sarah Whitmire's soul journaling</a> involved creating my "soul armor": what nourishes and protects my creative spirit. It took me a few days to think about what this entailed for me. I even made a list before I got started.<br />
<ul>
<li>Sunshine</li>
<li>Laughter</li>
<li>Playfulness</li>
<li>The beach</li>
<li>Windchimes</li>
<li>Clouds</li>
<li>Friendships</li>
<li>Scented candles</li>
<li>Purple</li>
<li>Yoga and meditation</li>
<li>Walking, runnning, biking (being in motion)</li>
</ul>
And this is what manifested on the page.<br />
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My favorite part of this page is the little boy in the middle. He reminds me of my childhood, when I wasn't afraid to dress up in a wacky costume and enter a world of make believe. He's serious in the most playful way possible, courageous in a right-up-until-dinner time type of way. <br />
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He's my inner creative child, the one I've been shielding from the world for a good five years. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1-ygFaR9oQLVFnVafK-3lLi_fo_DULxccwIAHYedG5erOJiYM4Dye7va2JxCkq7qNPLOIUAUGv1EhQvHIPCsFwh58ZIrxp9QZzxSl6uFXnW9C5jvF4RInYWFptTOMEGnTl9SxOLm1fo/s1600/2011-03-31_20-12-48_398.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1-ygFaR9oQLVFnVafK-3lLi_fo_DULxccwIAHYedG5erOJiYM4Dye7va2JxCkq7qNPLOIUAUGv1EhQvHIPCsFwh58ZIrxp9QZzxSl6uFXnW9C5jvF4RInYWFptTOMEGnTl9SxOLm1fo/s320/2011-03-31_20-12-48_398.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'll continue to protect him; however, it's time he made a more regular appearance and became a bit more reliable, like his daily afternoon cartoons. <br />
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Juxtapose that childlike state with the more adult-like images on my page, and I've got the ultimate soul armor. I'm ready to run the creative gauntlet! Adieu, my good friends!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhKIJK5p9AD_hPGxEV5wB9IgYvVIXKZAE5iyejR0OyYqA6IyHz-CcnRiIHkUmmJ1ZL1f0xJyQBjpSSAf-jqVYqvO2A5RxPvh1guXwQh-shWTyE8AAYss67Qx3tkpHx64agcKNJJ51aOY/s1600/2011-03-31_20-15-25_484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhKIJK5p9AD_hPGxEV5wB9IgYvVIXKZAE5iyejR0OyYqA6IyHz-CcnRiIHkUmmJ1ZL1f0xJyQBjpSSAf-jqVYqvO2A5RxPvh1guXwQh-shWTyE8AAYss67Qx3tkpHx64agcKNJJ51aOY/s320/2011-03-31_20-15-25_484.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/">http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/</a><br />
<br />Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-79349801129221993582011-03-24T22:51:00.000-04:002011-03-24T22:51:14.290-04:00Soul Journaling, Day 2I wasn't anticipating being able to work on <a href="http://www.souljournaling.com/prompts.php">Sarah Whitmire's</a> <a href="http://sarahwhitmire.blogspot.com/2008/07/s-journaling-claiming-our-journals.html">next prompt</a> until the weekend, but I couldn't resist another late night.<br />
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Tonight was all about "claiming your journal". Pretty sure there's no questions as to whose journal this is! <br />
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I didn't notice it at the time, but I love how the white gesso didn't quite hide the phrase "Today I feel creative" and I can still see the words "creative muse" peeking through some of the color. Misspelling my name with scrabble tiles (bottom) and the word "dictionary" (middle) still being visible was an interesting coincidence as well.<br />
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Totally digging this soul journaling process.<br />
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************************************<br />
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<a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/">http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/</a><br />Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-9147704889843649392011-03-22T23:05:00.002-04:002011-03-22T23:08:56.723-04:00Journaling from the Soul<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6Jw-P9KJziL02Q2YYxqGDvTGDHFow4n8f3rtFaYo7ClFU8iyBha4UzL4Z01KCct4jvinNotUB2uV45WhyFcQKd2BFY56UN1PTMturm_m8Rpze2xwy9TfEODMu2rDMcmSV2UoovrzE-Q/s1600/1300036311167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6Jw-P9KJziL02Q2YYxqGDvTGDHFow4n8f3rtFaYo7ClFU8iyBha4UzL4Z01KCct4jvinNotUB2uV45WhyFcQKd2BFY56UN1PTMturm_m8Rpze2xwy9TfEODMu2rDMcmSV2UoovrzE-Q/s200/1300036311167.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<em>"To be nobody but yourself</em></div>
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<em></em></div>
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<em>in a world which is doing its best,</em></div>
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<em>night and day to make you everybody else -</em></div>
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<em>means to fight the hardest battle</em></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<em>which any human being could fight;</em></div>
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<em>and keep fighting."</em></div>
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~ E. E. Cummings</div>
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<br />
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I'm venturing into the world of <a href="http://www.artistsjournals.com/instruction.htm">art journaling</a>. <br />
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My friends <a href="http://www.cskawins.blogspot.com/">Cindy</a> and <a href="http://sepiaandglitter.blogspot.com/">Jane</a> are no strangers to the concept and participated in <a href="http://www.souljournaling.com/prompts.php">Sarah Whitmire's 22 Days of Soul Journaling</a> back in 2008. I've been browsing her <a href="http://www.souljournaling.com/about.php">site</a> for a few days now, and after gathering the necessary supplies from Michael's (with a 40% off coupon of course), I'm ready to begin.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2y-ABHNwtsEvuaTStvhnVFhXlyI3fqfj-wjge-K_cI1J2oTJkmW2xGPlcOrzfVd76YHiyei718YGyLiFdcHXdi0AZukuLjPQGscm3P3KKEKC9LJVXPHjL6kOojvXVaRr90XXMkUQ1vaI/s1600/2011-03-22_21-16-49_685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2y-ABHNwtsEvuaTStvhnVFhXlyI3fqfj-wjge-K_cI1J2oTJkmW2xGPlcOrzfVd76YHiyei718YGyLiFdcHXdi0AZukuLjPQGscm3P3KKEKC9LJVXPHjL6kOojvXVaRr90XXMkUQ1vaI/s320/2011-03-22_21-16-49_685.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first art journal. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I, too, am starting with the 22 days of art journaling prompts. When it comes to writing, I have little trouble getting off the blank page... but art? No idea. I couldn't even color between the lines in elementary school -- but hey, maybe that makes me perfectly suited for mixed media art! So, I'm really excited that this lovely woman has provided perfect starter ideas for beginning art journalists.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0vUwpBXH3272BOn47yW8RnValORKwmEVkc24qQThpwpACVyuppQiJXegMAtI0wPR56eBjE6kROw0EgmEkZLgmw8vtPvIFXVb3pgwD9iu52yU2v0Y9rbeO46vRdQ7e2qUg1oYtpng958o/s1600/2011-03-22_21-33-46_356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0vUwpBXH3272BOn47yW8RnValORKwmEVkc24qQThpwpACVyuppQiJXegMAtI0wPR56eBjE6kROw0EgmEkZLgmw8vtPvIFXVb3pgwD9iu52yU2v0Y9rbeO46vRdQ7e2qUg1oYtpng958o/s320/2011-03-22_21-33-46_356.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who says purple "disappearing" gluesticks are just for kids?</td></tr>
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Meditation music floating through the room and a "beach breeze" candle illuminating my desk, I completed the <a href="http://sarahwhitmire.blogspot.com/2008/07/s-journaling.html">day 1 prompt</a> tonight. The instructions involved gluing random dictionary pages to the first three pages of my journal, and then writing over them with the prompt "today I feel", circling words for added emphasis. I decided to rip up an extra copy of a <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/12/three-coronas-later.html">short story I had published in 2005</a> and use that instead of dictionary pages. I also added a little color around the edges of the glued pages; I'm not a big fan of white.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBV58ZT8BM5XH2axAxnDWoYEo2Za6DzrHIhoLllQ6IcmzCbK74tx5UKnUtir2b8WpzNPvjQt1t8-vqE-E6IA1Nck_mVai8hENvg_m5F2ESGvG7CumIzvGWltWHire1-4dww-CCZLSH08A/s1600/2011-03-22_22-10-20_193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBV58ZT8BM5XH2axAxnDWoYEo2Za6DzrHIhoLllQ6IcmzCbK74tx5UKnUtir2b8WpzNPvjQt1t8-vqE-E6IA1Nck_mVai8hENvg_m5F2ESGvG7CumIzvGWltWHire1-4dww-CCZLSH08A/s320/2011-03-22_22-10-20_193.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Completed pages of "Today I Feel"</td></tr>
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What's great about these exercises is that they're totally at my own pace. And given my four to five days a week of volleyball, bi-weekly meditation classes, weekly Zumba class, the occasional at-home yoga session, a newly acquired freelance gig (emphasis on the "free"), and my full time job ... art journaling without a deadline is a welcomed experience.<br />
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After last week's <a href="http://www.anandaym.com/index.html">Sacred Sounds meditation class</a>, I've been overwhelmed with creative energy; I can't wait to see where this new journey takes me!<br />
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<a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/">http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/</a>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-11158639607399752652011-03-12T23:25:00.001-05:002011-03-12T23:25:51.130-05:00Just Begin ItAs I close my evening eyes, <br/> I sometimes sense my angels sleeping <br/> in the peaceful corner of my room. <br/> The last of light slips down my window <br/> as it surrenders to the night. <br/> And my angels wander in playful preparation, <br/> whispering words of wisdom like the best of Paul himself. <br/> <br/> Now I can just be. <br/> I will begin again. <br/> I am free.<div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3</div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-26788525045581528152011-02-13T22:24:00.001-05:002011-02-13T22:26:33.116-05:00New Eats and a New WordDo you know what sriracha is? I didn't until this weekend.<br />
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On Saturday, Jolyon and I ventured to a cafe called <a href="http://www.yellowdogeats.com/YellowDogEats/Welcome.html">Yellow Dog Eats</a>, a unique eatery with a country store appeal, featuring an assortment of sandwiches, salads, and some bbq. I LOVE places like this: imaginative establishments tucked away in the Orlando netherlands, away from the tourist scene - the place you'd find only because so-and-so heard about it and suggested you check it out.<br />
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I have a habit of not reading the full list of ingredients when I order something new. The Downward Dog (legit name of a sandwich; see menu <a href="http://yellowdogeats.com/yellow-dog-menu.pdf">here</a>) sounded delicious. Portabello mushrooms? Water chestnuts? Peanuts? Yes please! I glossed over the rest of the ingredients, my eyes lingering on <em>sriracha</em> just long enough for my brain to conclude it didn't know what it was, but didn't care enough to ask.<br />
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The stylishly tatooed woman at the counter stalled in taking our order, insisting that she "get to know as much as possible about us in the next fine minutes". She asked if we were Buddists. (No.) Mormon? (No.) Nerds? (It's that obvious?) She asked where we were from and what we do for a living. Then she asked us to give her a list of labels we felt defined us. The first thing that I thought of was my Myers-Briggs label <a href="http://www.typelogic.com/enfj.html">ENFJ</a>, so I told her that. She thought that was hysterical - apparently that wasn't the type of label people often give. Finally, she took our order.<br />
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While waiting for our lunch to be prepared, we wandered around the store, eyeing homemade wine, dog treats, and jewelry. My eyes darted from one interesting artifact to the next, and I immediately made mental lists of the people I knew would love this establishment.<br />
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The weather was a perfect 68 degrees, so we opted to sit out back on their patio. I think Jolyon was expecting something a little more "restauranty", but the outdoor ambiance didn't surprise me at all.<br />
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When our food was ready (albeit a tad longer than I normally like to wait for a sandwich), I was so hungry that I took a few bites far too quickly. And then... FIRE. OHMYGOD my tastebuds were burning off. Can't breathe! What the hell had I just ordered? I gulped down some water and ate half the bag of pita chips. And coughed a lot. After attempting to compose myself, I snatched a lone menu off the table and scanned the list of ingredients again. <br />
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This time I thought long and hard about this so-called <em>sriracha</em>. Definitely not an inncocent bean sprout or something similar. So, I did the next logical thing that anyone with a <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/12/smartphones-and-social-networking-what.html">smartphone</a> would do.<br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sriracha_sauce">I googled it.</a><br />
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Of course. Thai hot sauce. Naturally.<br />
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I don't deal well with spices. Mild salsa is usually too much for me, and the tamest sauce at <a href="http://www.tijuanaflats.com/">Tijuana Flats</a> (the one with the smiley face) is almost too spicey for my tastes. Needless to say, I couldn't finish my sandwich. <br />
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But at least I can now add a new word to my cooking vocabulary, and a cool (assuming the other items are, temperature-wise) restaurant to my conquests.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-55960340626288485482011-01-23T20:35:00.000-05:002011-01-23T20:35:18.425-05:00Stuffed with French ToastIt's been a weekend of indulgence. I had my favorite breakfast two days in a row.<br />
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On Saturday, my friend <a href="http://www.cskawins.blogspot.com/">Cindy</a> introduced me to a wonderful little breakfast cafe called <a href="http://www.kekesbreakfastcafe.com/breakfastmenu.html">Kekes</a>. It's near the <a href="http://www.ohs-spca.org/">SPCA of Central Florida</a>, where we spend many mornings playing with cats and helping them get adopted. Covered in cat fur and feline love, we wandered into this chic little bistro to discover the deliciousness of French toast. Well, I had French toast - stuffed banana pecan caramel, to be exact. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJCvZoU4YcCkvmZr_Ea-ycbd-3Vc_F5lM_8PPWINtg2BfeS9KKYEIb_JoXqeJFkpMn5pbyngiky93lKA9FqfTw2MjnPYVwG0lAEAnbsI34ZL-81j0LWXkXJDU_6YK2-5vnLNGvR5MjXM/s1600/1295722403462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJCvZoU4YcCkvmZr_Ea-ycbd-3Vc_F5lM_8PPWINtg2BfeS9KKYEIb_JoXqeJFkpMn5pbyngiky93lKA9FqfTw2MjnPYVwG0lAEAnbsI34ZL-81j0LWXkXJDU_6YK2-5vnLNGvR5MjXM/s200/1295722403462.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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And it was amazing. </div>
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Today, Jolyon and James experimented in the kitchen and concocted an equally tasty French toast recipe - with bananas and powdered sugar to boot!</div>
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If only every weekend's breakfasts could be this delicious.</div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-21703867945043180982011-01-21T17:09:00.000-05:002011-01-21T17:09:53.826-05:00Poetic Photographer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwDeiIaPVZDPNAi5MRnszBpacRidC75lY-nlUSuJXDma4HBNbowiBlDyAt8amHx78ZcyzHjEoD3dliSAImtho5kInNYTKYnwWmqrpe-TDkmT6GKcMasL-S8AMtN9VALCN3FbiOUA1HeAg/s1600/Randoms+054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwDeiIaPVZDPNAi5MRnszBpacRidC75lY-nlUSuJXDma4HBNbowiBlDyAt8amHx78ZcyzHjEoD3dliSAImtho5kInNYTKYnwWmqrpe-TDkmT6GKcMasL-S8AMtN9VALCN3FbiOUA1HeAg/s200/Randoms+054.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I take a lot of pictures. I’m <em>that</em> person at social gatherings, the person you need to warn, “please don’t put this on Facebook” or, “this isn’t going online, right?” In fact, my husband has grumbled numerous times that our life is “too public” due to my obsession with photo-sharing and posting to online albums.<br />
<br />
<br />
I see nothing wrong with this. Maybe it’s my inner poet, but I love capturing those precious, raw moments of people just… being. And I love sharing this with others. The way we live is becoming more and more collaborative and I’m fueled with passion for the future.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AZ9Hn-by_PzbaFJTUTNxOR84wKLaNOz9JPn634Fruk8CEc6ML8uLf5FLyViMwp4fbCjJKdRf99l3SmBvduJsIloi1NN2dC3x_LfV0Jf1GS7H8zU9az79ksYI5oSGkZjKuVNJC3wmem0/s1600/Randoms+059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AZ9Hn-by_PzbaFJTUTNxOR84wKLaNOz9JPn634Fruk8CEc6ML8uLf5FLyViMwp4fbCjJKdRf99l3SmBvduJsIloi1NN2dC3x_LfV0Jf1GS7H8zU9az79ksYI5oSGkZjKuVNJC3wmem0/s200/Randoms+059.jpg" width="150" /></a>Lately, though, I’ve focused my attention on inanimate objects and scenery. I’d love to take a day trip somewhere beautiful to just wander and take photos. I used to do this when I was writing nature essays in college, and it was exhilarating to connect with my creative side – the side that feels most like me. For now, though, I seek the beauty in my own neighborhood.<br />
<br />
I know I’ve <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/12/smartphones-and-social-networking-what.html">touted my Droid X’s vast capabilities</a>, but I do have iPhone app envy. There are so many fantastic photo apps for the iPhone. Take my friend Jane, for example. She’s been posting extraordinary photos to <a href="http://sepiaandglitter.blogspot.com/">her art blog</a>, leaving me in a pile of drool as I scroll through them. Of course, she’s also an incredibly talented artist and has a great eye for what makes a phenomenal photo.<br />
<br />
This makes me want to take a digital photography class. I should add that to my must-do list. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtCi1UmE4X5WeTCv40MLINPAcSy2FkiRsLecDCPvKcwX3kfoPMZnmmDg_-5mJ3gpPdQWDxnqV6kkrluO2vIy6WCfT0dvoVXFGWpp-bjQSwpgpAp_6jV4xBL3yBAtoy_FSADu-DkzKTic/s1600/1283609977995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtCi1UmE4X5WeTCv40MLINPAcSy2FkiRsLecDCPvKcwX3kfoPMZnmmDg_-5mJ3gpPdQWDxnqV6kkrluO2vIy6WCfT0dvoVXFGWpp-bjQSwpgpAp_6jV4xBL3yBAtoy_FSADu-DkzKTic/s200/1283609977995.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Anyway, one of my crafting goals for myself this year is to create a photojournal that collectively tells a story. I have a few ideas floating around, but I haven’t decided if I’ll go the traditional scrapbook-style route, or if I’ll use my favorite online photobook site – <a href="http://mypublisher.com/">MyPublisher.com</a>. I’m running out of wall space in my house for hanging photos, so it’s time to start channeling my ideas into books.<br />
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If you're reading this via Facebook Notes, check out the real deal on <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/">my blog</a>.<br />Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-22024229688715371902011-01-11T23:29:00.000-05:002011-01-11T23:29:56.222-05:00Sweet SerendipityI've never been all that into music. It's not that I don't like music, I just don't seek it out, download it, or share tunes and lyrics with people.<br />
<br />
Until today.<br />
<br />
I've received a lot of bad news this week. The kind of news that makes your heart ache for others, leaving you feeling especially helpless. I've offered up a prayer or two for each situation, hoping comfort and peace will find its way into their hearts. While driving home from work today, and still dwelling on one situation in particular, a song came on the radio that I hadn't heard before. And I listen to the same station on my morning and evening commute, so the amount of replays tends to rank high on the annoying scale.<br />
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But this beat was pure (Can beat be pure? I've never reviewed music before.) and the lyrics were full of hope and inspiration. At least for me. <br />
<br />
Maybe you'll think so, too.<br />
<br />
Lee DeWyze's Sweet Serendipity<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SaSxJkH5do">Video</a><br />
<a href="http://www.directlyrics.com/lee-dewyze-sweet-serendipity-lyrics.html">Lyrics</a>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-22539192047781278792010-12-26T12:54:00.000-05:002010-12-26T12:54:47.742-05:00A December of Laughter and LoveAnother Christmas come and gone. Each year my holiday cheer seems to intensify and I try to attend as many Christmas-related events as possible, planning time to see extended family and friends. It's certainly been a busy month, one that will make the scrapbooking and art journaling all-the-more rewarding this year.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ppkJvROMYWKnFJQyoHDOMk4LBOZrodS2hQugaaxOTkafgXHiC0a1Go6f_59QcYIoAXEEuDTnDKxdquVodHJNP4ryD0wrwFnYSUYTixibf-JSraZqRuRdZLRluVQ7BT2Sn59xsIijCoU/s1600/2010-12-01_18-30-54_291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ppkJvROMYWKnFJQyoHDOMk4LBOZrodS2hQugaaxOTkafgXHiC0a1Go6f_59QcYIoAXEEuDTnDKxdquVodHJNP4ryD0wrwFnYSUYTixibf-JSraZqRuRdZLRluVQ7BT2Sn59xsIijCoU/s320/2010-12-01_18-30-54_291.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearby resident's Christmas display</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBw-eqqZAo3P6-chs__S_iMVk-4vTcMRkT0TDXOpVrfFUlh5L8Kd2s79mXhMxCamLXYL6mH8V2Kt-XE5haMhVdQiGvj6fBQiuDEeWWKjHVJSxTXInksxzSgszGyRD8cVbAE5jkI6NL60/s1600/2010-11-23_20-33-47_44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBw-eqqZAo3P6-chs__S_iMVk-4vTcMRkT0TDXOpVrfFUlh5L8Kd2s79mXhMxCamLXYL6mH8V2Kt-XE5haMhVdQiGvj6fBQiuDEeWWKjHVJSxTXInksxzSgszGyRD8cVbAE5jkI6NL60/s320/2010-11-23_20-33-47_44.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lights at the Magic Kingdom</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-L-sHF1J0vjS4K-HAyL6JgiF14F7Gj0c976tob4mVwk-Vka6CYR6bojK9mbprPbDzhFzamwqYvYURi_Sm7qzonqg2gLRhq44wmg8jAqS2UjW2iM3KCE2B4WEV7RvUxCNntO087EXXbgU/s1600/2010-11-25_18-42-06_859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-L-sHF1J0vjS4K-HAyL6JgiF14F7Gj0c976tob4mVwk-Vka6CYR6bojK9mbprPbDzhFzamwqYvYURi_Sm7qzonqg2gLRhq44wmg8jAqS2UjW2iM3KCE2B4WEV7RvUxCNntO087EXXbgU/s320/2010-11-25_18-42-06_859.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spectacle of Dancing Lights at Disney's Hollywood Studios</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3MncKX1AGTD-HmR-FDYK09w1T87RvHWBSdnPP8-36oZVSacpdL7mNcA8O6fHKWY0UAMQJhXChKiwrI8FkYVGivJYNEzB-DZON_0EU8jdS2yVbA6k7Mz9acBva8AUTPnB-c5X53-KKzc/s1600/Rick+Camera+083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3MncKX1AGTD-HmR-FDYK09w1T87RvHWBSdnPP8-36oZVSacpdL7mNcA8O6fHKWY0UAMQJhXChKiwrI8FkYVGivJYNEzB-DZON_0EU8jdS2yVbA6k7Mz9acBva8AUTPnB-c5X53-KKzc/s320/Rick+Camera+083.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Rick visit from Michigan</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk8xEEW3Zz7vwv8NGXFCfOY_kJpzv4d5asR4xZPCbtwSqHvO7vpo7w5u0EO7awRoI-KQfw3D6RxzbpvvkOQmPO90e_089TiNRQSqBecd-NDnYHVrqIPR5n4XWL3Jjb4i-S5MNZivPTJAA/s1600/1290561113967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk8xEEW3Zz7vwv8NGXFCfOY_kJpzv4d5asR4xZPCbtwSqHvO7vpo7w5u0EO7awRoI-KQfw3D6RxzbpvvkOQmPO90e_089TiNRQSqBecd-NDnYHVrqIPR5n4XWL3Jjb4i-S5MNZivPTJAA/s320/1290561113967.jpg" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gingerbread house at Disney's Grand Floridian Resort & Spa</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6ekqw4MF1rNiwGAkkot7ChoN_JJGXNG45pe8yRL03PmF2H0lirdCW7T3ug-V39rZuaJM1jBRP9_mESLad9sViWVSuvzVJS4DqvSyzE0HCXmkylWKPtZcEgiGbLlkQQjniMwiEGlYZbk/s1600/Rick+Camera+109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="319" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6ekqw4MF1rNiwGAkkot7ChoN_JJGXNG45pe8yRL03PmF2H0lirdCW7T3ug-V39rZuaJM1jBRP9_mESLad9sViWVSuvzVJS4DqvSyzE0HCXmkylWKPtZcEgiGbLlkQQjniMwiEGlYZbk/s320/Rick+Camera+109.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seeing the ICE! exhibits at the Gaylord Palms Resort</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguapKrT_xPh48vz2whlKIXuDfQRZy1__Pud9faV7qg2Q4FPFqSq0hRxQMh4e6QnXyJRUQZgYcwlpw5cxfTAMIJ_jqTtvHUm4Bd5rUHKR88lpC6pusR1jtM4Au7R12-mkkdnkG5g34MdlY/s1600/2010-12-05_21-42-16_994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguapKrT_xPh48vz2whlKIXuDfQRZy1__Pud9faV7qg2Q4FPFqSq0hRxQMh4e6QnXyJRUQZgYcwlpw5cxfTAMIJ_jqTtvHUm4Bd5rUHKR88lpC6pusR1jtM4Au7R12-mkkdnkG5g34MdlY/s320/2010-12-05_21-42-16_994.jpg" width="284" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andy, my cousin from Seattle, visits Orlando; we pose for a picture with Grandpy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpE_v8LsWXuXGBmbfF2DTSt3iClXgM5ETSVxbQkyyAlDsnIh2lWRcP9_a4vaZpcFqYDChrcAlIuXNuG0ayx1TTGsO0esBR3iGoxEgLEbsZlnMS2GIQ_uwSrOo5tjvrUN2JT7GqF66S9kI/s1600/2010-12-10_19-53-18_891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpE_v8LsWXuXGBmbfF2DTSt3iClXgM5ETSVxbQkyyAlDsnIh2lWRcP9_a4vaZpcFqYDChrcAlIuXNuG0ayx1TTGsO0esBR3iGoxEgLEbsZlnMS2GIQ_uwSrOo5tjvrUN2JT7GqF66S9kI/s320/2010-12-10_19-53-18_891.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attending Dusty's Christmas concert at the First Baptist Church in Lakeland</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYjnZ215h0nuhP0YW5hLKd1rjQiWP-1Gp0G3i5zoitMrtCyLvVOmmVjt4J6pNG9x9iyW7-ZMBa9DVki1R1tA6xTT48iVDdQZM2-LLloIB6Lb_DyV3MND7Kj2Uefb9GR-e1UuYnPO1pzc/s1600/My+Camera+019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYjnZ215h0nuhP0YW5hLKd1rjQiWP-1Gp0G3i5zoitMrtCyLvVOmmVjt4J6pNG9x9iyW7-ZMBa9DVki1R1tA6xTT48iVDdQZM2-LLloIB6Lb_DyV3MND7Kj2Uefb9GR-e1UuYnPO1pzc/s320/My+Camera+019.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Christmas in our house.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJVKr2Oaj12VNQvIvob37giWyb5_dbEkGenDAsHDMMi8hReHrP2foRhsWfEnzZN8X_4t3utFgjBbsHMmfnuFcDwimiWf4EsgDvRjM6_TlRkpuKWYvFEywQGytKpJbxD37BrCElc0uBgXw/s1600/2010-12-11_20-08-01_390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJVKr2Oaj12VNQvIvob37giWyb5_dbEkGenDAsHDMMi8hReHrP2foRhsWfEnzZN8X_4t3utFgjBbsHMmfnuFcDwimiWf4EsgDvRjM6_TlRkpuKWYvFEywQGytKpJbxD37BrCElc0uBgXw/s320/2010-12-11_20-08-01_390.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James' Mom, Cindy, experiences the Dancing Lights for the first time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgySGzG7njuAk_2dHMa2eB5SDEuAuHSX29PvHg6MddVzZXr3XO3YPAiWCx23adHhcOe254nMGcJn5mP3JWFmNhOSB3xtcXRxUcGzFQdw0eChX8u02fO0UDDuQ8Tg-vHEmBd1Ir00PJvEm0/s1600/2010-12-11_20-21-06_879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgySGzG7njuAk_2dHMa2eB5SDEuAuHSX29PvHg6MddVzZXr3XO3YPAiWCx23adHhcOe254nMGcJn5mP3JWFmNhOSB3xtcXRxUcGzFQdw0eChX8u02fO0UDDuQ8Tg-vHEmBd1Ir00PJvEm0/s320/2010-12-11_20-21-06_879.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My nephew's joy. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTdV_m_TatItIOOVQj-c0UsAywEAVJjh88d7r0QxQRc2zc3fr95YkQk0din_-NTGUCXA9MnsWoggyOyGGjL3s4pwQH9AXBznht4mlCELKaGlWsAtkxLEnqVYGfGE4lQOklgryM4IDMp8/s1600/2010-12-12_20-10-35_784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTdV_m_TatItIOOVQj-c0UsAywEAVJjh88d7r0QxQRc2zc3fr95YkQk0din_-NTGUCXA9MnsWoggyOyGGjL3s4pwQH9AXBznht4mlCELKaGlWsAtkxLEnqVYGfGE4lQOklgryM4IDMp8/s320/2010-12-12_20-10-35_784.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jolyon and his oldest brother Julian.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHID7TgOP-r0R7XRn5BZtzsM6QQJxclF69dkOlDPL3eKRnzOSWw5-hICq7ho-PJbuD4kutG10F_72bFXbI7RtZNLHbY_CGWcsL9Olc8Di4YTZYQ_BfeBofZabtvkgSbIWRiFXOJVLtJY/s1600/2010-12-18_19-05-16_600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHID7TgOP-r0R7XRn5BZtzsM6QQJxclF69dkOlDPL3eKRnzOSWw5-hICq7ho-PJbuD4kutG10F_72bFXbI7RtZNLHbY_CGWcsL9Olc8Di4YTZYQ_BfeBofZabtvkgSbIWRiFXOJVLtJY/s320/2010-12-18_19-05-16_600.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An appropriate gift to my nephew Gabriel.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCOUsU1niO-0kLdMrBrjmSRCFuP1kJs1LVyB60KN9gr2bKdUKjsu0d2O-Cy84WAQzS0Y97Dn4j2dpsruFGnkqmMWW0_dzh_HUonju2gnTyDjqR_UWTf8nINZDzEybVYMurlgy9qKJwwM/s1600/2010-12-16_21-01-28_164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCOUsU1niO-0kLdMrBrjmSRCFuP1kJs1LVyB60KN9gr2bKdUKjsu0d2O-Cy84WAQzS0Y97Dn4j2dpsruFGnkqmMWW0_dzh_HUonju2gnTyDjqR_UWTf8nINZDzEybVYMurlgy9qKJwwM/s320/2010-12-16_21-01-28_164.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angela makes a new friend this Christmas.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHHlGvwwQ6g_d_YcHJw2HLXNUc3OQ0c2GLrnL_xV5yaFKyRiIzbgX1bEhnOcBB_GUJEXxDf6HZwWjRdzqIaC8renp54GKJ6Foy5dBL3NYziHSFIwibNK5zFQHQB0f3byZ3zZ_Nw-koaE/s1600/2010-12-19_10-27-28_545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHHlGvwwQ6g_d_YcHJw2HLXNUc3OQ0c2GLrnL_xV5yaFKyRiIzbgX1bEhnOcBB_GUJEXxDf6HZwWjRdzqIaC8renp54GKJ6Foy5dBL3NYziHSFIwibNK5zFQHQB0f3byZ3zZ_Nw-koaE/s320/2010-12-19_10-27-28_545.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad and stepmom flew down from MA to surprise me!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh24RIQ99akQk18SCa8zk5YfGYGFf-kaS7czlWd1ULTcmBdRomoNrNJnJhdNyI_ah_XZjsdr6VBkEaK03vJeZ1JxLd4jcoXweFmq5tCKXYV6IaxNqQqMlIMP52IK2fJE5DCQh3BoDq4ZgA/s1600/1292525082118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh24RIQ99akQk18SCa8zk5YfGYGFf-kaS7czlWd1ULTcmBdRomoNrNJnJhdNyI_ah_XZjsdr6VBkEaK03vJeZ1JxLd4jcoXweFmq5tCKXYV6IaxNqQqMlIMP52IK2fJE5DCQh3BoDq4ZgA/s320/1292525082118.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No Christmas is complete without a gingerbread latte.<br />
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I hope your holiday season has been filled with family, friends, laughter, and love!</div>
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<br /></div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-55650307619265875522010-12-13T17:33:00.002-05:002010-12-13T17:35:17.671-05:00Smartphones and Social Networking: What You Want Is What You GetI’ve had my smart phone – my darling <a href="http://www.engadget.com/2010/07/01/motorola-droid-x-review/">Droid X</a> – for just about five months now. And I don’t know how I ever lived without it. My calendars are synced, my personal and school email accounts arrive on my phone with a pleasant notification alert, my quest for visiting every Starbucks in Orlando is easier via the built-in GPS, and I have an electronic to-do list that happily taunts me throughout the day.<br />
<br />
As I tout my newfound technological expertise and know-it-all aura, my husband views me as more of a technological lemming. Because, let’s face it: I’ve always had a bit of a love-hate relationship with <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/07/technology.html">technology</a>. Mostly my loving it and it hating me.<br />
<br />
<strong>Aside:</strong> According to the dictionary.com app that I downloaded on my beloved Droid X, a “lemming” is <em>a small arctic rodent noted for periodic mass migrations and mass drownings</em>. In my pre-Droid X life, I lived in a world where many minutes were lost sifting through pages of a dictionary or firing up my slug-speed laptop to access the dictionary.com site. But now, friends, I can confirm the definition of my word of choice by pressing one button on my mobile device’s home page. <br />
<br />
<strong>Aside to the aside:</strong> I knew what a lemming was…<br />
<br />
I had a point with this entry. Oh right. Social media. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/11/millenial-musings.html">While I argued with myself about the topic before</a>, I’m clearly the epitome of the <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35545420/ns/technology_and_science-wireless/">Millenial generation</a>: the cell phone-clad kids in their Facebooking and texting glory, the love of constant connection and the social infusion of life onto this 5” x 3” device. <br />
<br />
The difference between myself and most Millenials? When sending a text message or conversing via Facebook, I use full sentences, proper punctuation, and appropriate syntax. (And, for the record, I do neither while driving.) Not adhering to simple sentence structure, punctuation rules, and basic grammar is the quickest way to make me “hide” your Facebook commentary. In some extreme cases, I’ve deleted people entirely because they’re offering nothing to the community (<a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-your-facebook-status-means-to.html">I’ve talked about this topic before</a>), and when I read their posts, I want to smear my red editing pen all over the screen of my phone. <br />
<br />
In fact, if you’re one of those people who struggle with forming a sentence before you update your Facebook status (and actually care how you're perceived), you might want to consider “friending” any of the following pages: <br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Chicago-Manual-of-Style/139396659150">Chicago Manual of Style</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/APAStyle">APA Style</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/merriamwebster">Merriam-Webster</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Oxford-English-Dictionary/94568886228">Oxford English Dictionary</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/waywordradio?ref=ts&v=wall">A Way With Words</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/visualthesaurus?v=info">Thinkmap Visual Thesaurus</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Testy-Copy-Editors/7165326190?v=wall">Testy Copy Editors</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/copyslot?v=info#!/copyslot?v=wall">The Slot</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/copyeditors">American Copy Editors Society</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/copyeditors">The Subversive Copy Editor</a></li>
</ul>
Moving on.<br />
<br />
I’ve also discovered a slight irritation bubbling up when someone <em>calls</em> me. My device’s ringtone is fairly foreign; most people know that emailing is the best way to elicit my response. I mean, the <em>nerve</em> of someone actually <em>calling </em>my cell phone. (Wait, what? People still use cell phones as phones?) Well, the hell with them – to voicemail they go! <br />
<br />
I was a bit shocked at this new internal response, as well as my disregard for the phone’s original use. Of course, there are certain topics and discussions that are better suited for an in-person or over-the-phone conversation. But that differentiation calls for another post entirely. Anyway, I was never a “chatter” in the phone sense, and since the advent of Facebook in ’05, I’ve welcomed the new communication method – and any platforms that make that communication easier. <br />
<br />
Enter the smartphone and its assortment of downloadable apps and widgets, <a href="http://technologytosoftware.com/best-android-apps-social-networking-fans.html">many that are tailored to make our social networking quicker</a>. I’ve been able to whittle down my “Friends” list to a manageable number of updates and commentaries (that I genuinely care about) – all sent to a widget on my phone in real-time, accessed by a simple finger-swipe on the screen. And if my stalker mode is set to extra curious on any given day, the entire “Friends” newsfeed is accessible by touching one additional icon on the screen. <br />
<br />
Regarding Facebook and the zillion companies that have created their own <a href="http://www.socialmediaexaminer.com/5-new-studies-show-facebook-a-marketing-powerhouse/">marketing pages</a>, I’ve started evaluating them online just as I would offline. Do they say things that make sense, or do they offer inconsistent advice? More important, do they offer information I’m interested in? And I apply these evaluation questions to people in my “Friends” list as well, particularly those people who I haven’t seen in five years, or talked to in ten. <br />
<br />
Anyone remember <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90i1r0_1Ifo">McDonald’s slogan and catchy jingle from the early 90s</a>: “What you want is what you get at McDonald’s today”? Having a smartphone is pretty much like that, minus the weight gain and general self-loathing that results from too much fast food.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-38014447090301145312010-10-17T17:05:00.000-04:002010-10-17T17:05:51.548-04:00Shellyon's First Wedding AnniversaryRewind through graduate school enrollments, a job promotion, buying a house, and a job change... and we're back in time, one year ago, to our wedding weekend on Captiva Island. It's been an eventful year for Shellyon.<br />
<br />
I had a blast <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/02/shellyon-wedding.html">planning our wedding</a>, and I love reliving that weekend - thanks to our amazing wedding photographer, <a href="http://www.sarakauss.com/blog/">Sara Kauss</a>, and my many friends and family memebers who shared their photos with us. And our <a href="http://www.mywedding.com/jolyonandshelly/index.html">original wedding website</a> is still intact as well.<br />
<br />
But more important, I've loved the past year with my husband. We'ved lived, laughed, and loved just as we vowed on that windy day on the beach. <strong>Happy first anniversary, Jolyon!</strong><br />
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<em>Michelle, in the presence of our family and friends, I pledge to be true to you, to respect you, and to grow with you through the years. Time may pass, fortune may smile, trials may come; no matter what we may encounter together, I promise here to love only you. I will make my home in your heart from this day forward. With laughter and love, these are my vows to you.</em></div>
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<em>Jolyon, I take you to be my husband and my best friend for life. Together our lives are truly enhanced. I will communicate with you open and honestly. I will navigate the changing tides with you in all seasons of our life together. Through the pressures of the present and the uncertainties of the future, I promise to be faithful to you, to challenge you, to comfort you, and to laugh with you. These are my solemn vows.</em></div>
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All photos by <a href="http://sarakauss.com/">Sara Kauss Photography</a>.</div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-52860495273666534202010-10-16T19:51:00.000-04:002010-10-16T19:51:34.023-04:00The Original Blog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was reading through some old IM conversations today (you know, that time-wasting tool once known as AOL Instant Messanger?), and I came across a link to my very first blog.<br />
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<a href="http://shellystick.diaryland.com/older.html">http://shellystick.diaryland.com/older.html</a><br />
<br />
It was like finding an old friend. I can't remember everything that's written in it, only that is starts in 2004 and ends in February of 2008, when I merged to what you're reading now via blogger.com.<br />
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I love looking into the past. Join me, won't you? :)<br />Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-86284271672414427652010-10-14T23:06:00.001-04:002010-10-14T23:08:12.197-04:00Upon Seeing My Cat Draped Over My Graduate School TextbooksMy husband asks, before bedtime, if I'm done for the night, with studying,<br />
and I say that I haven't started, <br />
but the cat is getting more use out of this rigid instruction than I, in her sleep-filled state, <br />
her stress-free dreams, her to-do list done by her master,<br />
no Gagne yanking her frayed leash, no Bloom neglecting her empty water dish, <br />
just the perception of a calming surface of a textbook <br />
serving no other purpose than a hard pillow on a cold night.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-37279516278675429602010-09-09T16:58:00.000-04:002010-09-09T16:58:20.745-04:00Manure or The Horse?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I can't resist sharing a cute story I read earlier today.<br />
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<em>One day two little boys were walking through a field. Suddenly one of them stumbled and fell into a pile of horse manure and the other, who was right behind his friend, fell into it, too. The first little boy got up, disgusted, brushed his clothes off moaning and grousing and loudly proclaimed his unhappiness. The second boy got up and started running wildly around the field.</em><br />
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<em>"What is wrong with you?" the first boy asked. "You crazy or something? What are you running around like that for?" </em><br />
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<em>"The horse!" exclaimed the second boy. "I'm looking for the horse!" </em><br />
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<em>"What do you mean?" asked the first boy.</em><br />
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<em>"Well, if there's a pile of manure here, there's gotta be a horse nearby!" the second boy replied, happily grinning as he ran looking. </em><br />
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<em>And so it is in life. Some of us, upon stepping into a pile of manure, see only the manure. Others look for the horse. </em>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-8989219443262962902010-08-04T19:19:00.000-04:002010-08-04T19:19:27.017-04:00Graduate School (and why I'm glad I took five years off after college)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm going back to school. That's right. In just over two weeks, I'll be toting my three-ring binders and colored pens (or do kids use laptops these days?) to <a href="http://www.ucf.edu/">The University of Central Florida</a>. <br />
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To be more specific: I've decided to pursue a master's degree in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Instructional_design">Instructional Systems Design</a>. <br />
<br />
When hearing this, most people have either given me a blank look, or have feigned enthusiasm, as opposed to admitting they have no idea <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qnCNBEfKk2I">what ISD is</a> (and up until four years ago, I didn't either). Or, they've blurted out an amusing response.<br />
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"But... you're a writer, not an engineer." -Friend 1<br />
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"So... you'll be learning how to build stuff for computers?" -Friend 2<br />
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"Awesome! You can help me decorate my house, if I can ever afford one!" -Friend 3<br />
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It's something about the combination of the words "instructional", "systems", and "design" that connote engineering specifications or computer systems. It certainly doesn't sound like a career path a <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/11/words-of-weakness.html">creative writer</a> would take.<br />
<br />
This is why I'm thankful for taking five years off after college to get some working experience. As it turns out, one of my natural strengths is process and procedural documentation; I avoided all business and technical writing courses that were part of my college writing track, so who knew? My days of <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/01/gravestones-poem-from-2005.html">poetry</a>, <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/12/three-coronas-later.html">prose</a>, <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-favorite-writing-genre.html">creative nonfiction</a>, and <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/04/tribute-to-brian-tivnan.html">journalism</a> quickly faded once I <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/06/quick-five-year-reflection.html">started working</a> as a professional technical writer. <br />
<br />
Faded but not forgotten. It also turns out that pairing a creative writing skillset with technical writing experience "makes a lethal instructional designer" (according to a random YouTube video I watched a few weeks ago, but can't find now to reference). Taking a logical approach to creating a course and blending it with creativity to engage the learner will have a huge impact. And that's what's most appealing to me -- a career where I can make equal use of my left brain and right brain to <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-im-not-quitting-facebook-and-other.html">connect with people</a>.<br />
<br />
Another benefit of taking time off after college: more and more graduate programs are being geared toward adults working full-time and needing flexibility, and online master's programs are becoming increasingly more desirable. With the exception of one of my classes this fall, I'll be able to pursue most of <a href="http://education.ucf.edu/insttech/master.cfm">my degree</a> in a completely online format. <br />
<br />
So, I'm trading in my volleyball and part of my social life for textbooks and homework. For now, anyway. Eventually I'll strike <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/08/balancing-acts.html">the balance</a> between my day job, my classes, and all of the <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/03/looking-forward-but-not-too-quickly.html">fun</a> <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-rejuvenation.html">stuff </a>in between.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-74568743243003029422010-08-01T18:01:00.000-04:002010-08-01T18:01:00.340-04:00Farewell to a Festival of Friendship<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<strong>"You only meet your once in a lifetime friends... once in a lifetime." </strong><br />
<strong>- <em>The Little Rascals</em></strong><br />
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Last night, Jolyon and I bid farewell to two of our dearest friends. <br />
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As I write this post, Dan is cruising up I-95 in his blue Fit with Buster, a playful if not slobbery mutt, towards a three-year stint at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornell_Law_School">Cornell Law School</a>. Kaleigh is driving "the best packed truck in the nation" (thankfully, the laughs outweighed the boxes) in pursuit of the Fit and their new life in Ithaca, NY.<br />
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I was wrestling with how to best write about this friendship; it's deserving of a public display in the finest gallery so that others can create replicas and enhance their own lives.<br />
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Or maybe it should be quietly preserved in a box, wrapped with a pretty bow, and tucked away in our private memory shelf.<br />
<br />
Or maybe these pictures will be enough to convey how much these two crazy kids impacted our lives in a relatively short period of time (9 months; "Thanks for bearing my children." -Dan).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuy6yu7IyH9tOoIeU11lAWGfH4Zvhgb4JePLTv8vW6nS53jXOWkJFFPPWxzKKcsIweOZTbn_36qjd1DUjHojzh4JW621nBCxFrnI55prS-0ZZFR4u6mVpLyww2FqbMuy-Q3xh96c2zfGA/s1600/Studios+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuy6yu7IyH9tOoIeU11lAWGfH4Zvhgb4JePLTv8vW6nS53jXOWkJFFPPWxzKKcsIweOZTbn_36qjd1DUjHojzh4JW621nBCxFrnI55prS-0ZZFR4u6mVpLyww2FqbMuy-Q3xh96c2zfGA/s320/Studios+006.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1QvzxIR8ndhzjI2x69QShs2f0S2u2oJNHrAEV82KLw7JbXcIqUdtS1fv1pPQEJ1Po9Sq75BLAf48vOP0zv0ZuoUlrLtA4LWkob7fhvcstyLC-foh5_cHWiQM47b1z2iqhdR-mRJxHjw/s1600/Cookies+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1QvzxIR8ndhzjI2x69QShs2f0S2u2oJNHrAEV82KLw7JbXcIqUdtS1fv1pPQEJ1Po9Sq75BLAf48vOP0zv0ZuoUlrLtA4LWkob7fhvcstyLC-foh5_cHWiQM47b1z2iqhdR-mRJxHjw/s200/Cookies+004.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Delicious."</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWb3sNUONGGyIBSMmoSQANaxpoTzjHm0Ju3L4SAOf3lkZtmhe7PWDil-i5dJVBrFCJsKj73mKQTOQxz81CubNh8s7tykYUH4SMQrvvxIYOg8Iyf2-Kl-EUKEAGL5NRlALyJa8Wcn_TQvs/s1600/Cookies+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWb3sNUONGGyIBSMmoSQANaxpoTzjHm0Ju3L4SAOf3lkZtmhe7PWDil-i5dJVBrFCJsKj73mKQTOQxz81CubNh8s7tykYUH4SMQrvvxIYOg8Iyf2-Kl-EUKEAGL5NRlALyJa8Wcn_TQvs/s320/Cookies+013.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Cookie Craziness, 2009</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IuheGCx9L2aHSYB0XpiDEKDpBX3lW6fRktrGAedQ2jxIoigI5rDwu-ScKvpRLFSKpfrdE-6tyDiMbdqR1Riww0El0Y9M0Iw3nmKUwLYmHbyXcYXQRwC1qDrYe5ujsAKca42gQ9vViXk/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Danleigh+SD+111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IuheGCx9L2aHSYB0XpiDEKDpBX3lW6fRktrGAedQ2jxIoigI5rDwu-ScKvpRLFSKpfrdE-6tyDiMbdqR1Riww0El0Y9M0Iw3nmKUwLYmHbyXcYXQRwC1qDrYe5ujsAKca42gQ9vViXk/s320/CA+Trip+-+Danleigh+SD+111.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishy smell in Disneyland</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnGGL_J5VIRZ2W2wW5F_nPchC-DOVkjeCpHw68dC6rrz23qO7QoKEG8znuohCG9lhLL4WMBfWsxAeH22y8ByDauODbMvAC5Kie9pEaV2mkGl32Me0uvh8asDEhFKdC5uARWhCUKLkFdyk/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnGGL_J5VIRZ2W2wW5F_nPchC-DOVkjeCpHw68dC6rrz23qO7QoKEG8znuohCG9lhLL4WMBfWsxAeH22y8ByDauODbMvAC5Kie9pEaV2mkGl32Me0uvh8asDEhFKdC5uARWhCUKLkFdyk/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+032.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jolyon tries for a hug in Disneyland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyrXePkslfDR1ctHsx4_42QapMygausp3DxScC780-R7Mxl_AsnYuYhhBUKbwzwwIKp-YkWDrw4zw2WZHpTY1KTbsV1haUuSi_Vx8fKV1uy3STjlf6HrKH_sv0Uc8U3RX2AZAlm2cHUE/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyrXePkslfDR1ctHsx4_42QapMygausp3DxScC780-R7Mxl_AsnYuYhhBUKbwzwwIKp-YkWDrw4zw2WZHpTY1KTbsV1haUuSi_Vx8fKV1uy3STjlf6HrKH_sv0Uc8U3RX2AZAlm2cHUE/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+089.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ShelLy and KaLeigh</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YXp-iFNimUB9ViOjzRKMNAAww5hO-cIX3_CmSI37NQT-6tjmPdxJ10sZ91nhAX4d9QHl_tjalbH6s8yKm_yHDsTQkwXOy3tsK9-pooHFTIXrgQTYDLW4xIrbZ40TTLKP5szbc8jLDfo/s1600/Cookies+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YXp-iFNimUB9ViOjzRKMNAAww5hO-cIX3_CmSI37NQT-6tjmPdxJ10sZ91nhAX4d9QHl_tjalbH6s8yKm_yHDsTQkwXOy3tsK9-pooHFTIXrgQTYDLW4xIrbZ40TTLKP5szbc8jLDfo/s320/Cookies+008.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Icing Incident of 2009.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5ZrQViMDDtgIae6AvZfTXcaQGvLFUE0GjZosK_goLAMNnw6cw3g52d9M4t9XwWnQHyBYlhjjcrVQJx3N5gvTCVpCntoB18nt0DglARm8q2DgAw-_Fv4QQ4g1kPrFyD-SgGy0HZI5o9I/s1600/DakMove+088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5ZrQViMDDtgIae6AvZfTXcaQGvLFUE0GjZosK_goLAMNnw6cw3g52d9M4t9XwWnQHyBYlhjjcrVQJx3N5gvTCVpCntoB18nt0DglARm8q2DgAw-_Fv4QQ4g1kPrFyD-SgGy0HZI5o9I/s320/DakMove+088.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating Buster's birthday.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEj8RKBkLByFZ_UEb9l4sWICZJ7TjgossUJyy9ciBs96E6Nfh9xq6xnMAPyRRo08Kr2MDb8gufcaFqexUOdBYqhwTE9uGFHioJgsa0QTuRo5M0RX4ShgQ17sPSifgLryphHVxi-6XxPgU/s1600/Danleigh+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEj8RKBkLByFZ_UEb9l4sWICZJ7TjgossUJyy9ciBs96E6Nfh9xq6xnMAPyRRo08Kr2MDb8gufcaFqexUOdBYqhwTE9uGFHioJgsa0QTuRo5M0RX4ShgQ17sPSifgLryphHVxi-6XxPgU/s320/Danleigh+001.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">With Danleigh's housewarming gift.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU4rxm_NPVPbXGuayZgSI24-kI1fSUPa5HB-DDrasZOLRjqdgO45BNPdr8PDF_2a-yE2MMZ0c1bOmHnCv_3rbsTd3puu_Ivr4AgH5KikFl9s9C_copIir4sD4GLdz7lrrp1xa2Rn_dAcs/s1600/Danleigh+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU4rxm_NPVPbXGuayZgSI24-kI1fSUPa5HB-DDrasZOLRjqdgO45BNPdr8PDF_2a-yE2MMZ0c1bOmHnCv_3rbsTd3puu_Ivr4AgH5KikFl9s9C_copIir4sD4GLdz7lrrp1xa2Rn_dAcs/s320/Danleigh+005.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Boys and their toys.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHOL_uY2YbvETN9X5UiJDKs3F6Copygh3GJBR_TLtMxVH-RYTVGayEfGgskOQqhm5I26obpMibZ0A2iNR_IXATvBCZFEomnrm07YVVUnAkQzv0ME9xNy9ocrP_bP7fjcvrFD0C5fMi2ws/s1600/DakMove+089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHOL_uY2YbvETN9X5UiJDKs3F6Copygh3GJBR_TLtMxVH-RYTVGayEfGgskOQqhm5I26obpMibZ0A2iNR_IXATvBCZFEomnrm07YVVUnAkQzv0ME9xNy9ocrP_bP7fjcvrFD0C5fMi2ws/s320/DakMove+089.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating for Buster.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYE6zwThP5FVXVNVs6Fs-FMgwtWmhlfU956sELArXn9zEX786NqAydAImYDufDZc1sA-vHx8r0SGZrdu0u8k56i-_MLeeoNnABmIyF0jO8Sxg7jwa-jg26tqQ1cP-g4MxZW3wDVu-iJHo/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Danleigh+SD+030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYE6zwThP5FVXVNVs6Fs-FMgwtWmhlfU956sELArXn9zEX786NqAydAImYDufDZc1sA-vHx8r0SGZrdu0u8k56i-_MLeeoNnABmIyF0jO8Sxg7jwa-jg26tqQ1cP-g4MxZW3wDVu-iJHo/s320/CA+Trip+-+Danleigh+SD+030.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disneyland in California<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70WBLvuSsoHTyaZ8d6fr2yDQ_X7yoP-9dmvu7WhnHekYd9k1BnouPOLAIccaZLViUG3TFFDlIgWCm0xXrQVIx0spu5Fo-Oajq-6khj92ksH6CvNjarwhV8z12P6oaBczyi7FwNBV4XY0/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+288.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70WBLvuSsoHTyaZ8d6fr2yDQ_X7yoP-9dmvu7WhnHekYd9k1BnouPOLAIccaZLViUG3TFFDlIgWCm0xXrQVIx0spu5Fo-Oajq-6khj92ksH6CvNjarwhV8z12P6oaBczyi7FwNBV4XY0/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+288.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unforgettable</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-t4gaAR5OIjpjPmsDuenIhVhQOPSeSY9vpdpbUU8fjOxGKI5i107sDJcD16UdgWD72hVCTCOiwXkXVKbV2Yp04Z78IqvrA6DSB29HTDBsRoPOiyXsICFMIE6SIMrHuHKgzn3JNzKf70/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-t4gaAR5OIjpjPmsDuenIhVhQOPSeSY9vpdpbUU8fjOxGKI5i107sDJcD16UdgWD72hVCTCOiwXkXVKbV2Yp04Z78IqvrA6DSB29HTDBsRoPOiyXsICFMIE6SIMrHuHKgzn3JNzKf70/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+308.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hollywood, CA</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4W6UBkfLVcRJX96WeS3bg-_C9FM5NPX0-qZoqT7lIFN8jFmVccSoin3MC_m3YmqWQKLCFLtOYVlXaOFguZgIvMqJzeJgeOKt0TDCpfj-02Rt-_0WrbOYbzWBRZmCcIFV-ZDm2yTWFf7w/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4W6UBkfLVcRJX96WeS3bg-_C9FM5NPX0-qZoqT7lIFN8jFmVccSoin3MC_m3YmqWQKLCFLtOYVlXaOFguZgIvMqJzeJgeOKt0TDCpfj-02Rt-_0WrbOYbzWBRZmCcIFV-ZDm2yTWFf7w/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+115.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely lady legs.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfgTKLLQIi9c4EM3yx4cW8y1FwIOgxspzEUW6iU70hLBMtiPJDWv502mPCvbfQt2QqO6Iggb5Dh7KZUavd6qCuVW87qwJvlhpaQPnNCTlrBmM6EWV5L8CLtreKUm9nz2csLnA36GqvwY8/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfgTKLLQIi9c4EM3yx4cW8y1FwIOgxspzEUW6iU70hLBMtiPJDWv502mPCvbfQt2QqO6Iggb5Dh7KZUavd6qCuVW87qwJvlhpaQPnNCTlrBmM6EWV5L8CLtreKUm9nz2csLnA36GqvwY8/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+076.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun mirrors, or too much theme park food?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbOB5MpodcMpXWkqSJyfa7K4TUgaFszduvbVA5GevOg7MDvoAw8-QinNKunuSxQ-BHw1RJNb3EcaG7zzOizQybJEkJ-wcZwv8j77nPFIl1Xk7GiL-KD6TXsuczqxyMoeS0Pw5Q1RL-jU/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbOB5MpodcMpXWkqSJyfa7K4TUgaFszduvbVA5GevOg7MDvoAw8-QinNKunuSxQ-BHw1RJNb3EcaG7zzOizQybJEkJ-wcZwv8j77nPFIl1Xk7GiL-KD6TXsuczqxyMoeS0Pw5Q1RL-jU/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+306.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hollywood ladies</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ41USwz7bdSy9pvYehX_bEhZ6veEAKH5R4YdC80817Mv73LQRgr3NWDUYsbFEBtSi6w-fC1V2rT467TwiY2rLEerlbpuYAO2WXJ7eAeo_XnVKVk2NnGMuzOwwcb-nyZe3BWg75i51c9k/s1600/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ41USwz7bdSy9pvYehX_bEhZ6veEAKH5R4YdC80817Mv73LQRgr3NWDUYsbFEBtSi6w-fC1V2rT467TwiY2rLEerlbpuYAO2WXJ7eAeo_XnVKVk2NnGMuzOwwcb-nyZe3BWg75i51c9k/s320/CA+Trip+-+Shellyon+SD+349.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late night dinner in CA</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHl6q-3d2W_h8scBHr64HfPEq8PtUEe7RbmGzokUJ88f5S6aqFhA1OsTlPYvszvTI51SI5UVDzy0LUTBcLnYjwOG9SpxpKAWiYU0IdmtkIa4XdCjfAxT0ViclsrF_1OvoDr8S-sbV7Lk/s1600/BB1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHl6q-3d2W_h8scBHr64HfPEq8PtUEe7RbmGzokUJ88f5S6aqFhA1OsTlPYvszvTI51SI5UVDzy0LUTBcLnYjwOG9SpxpKAWiYU0IdmtkIa4XdCjfAxT0ViclsrF_1OvoDr8S-sbV7Lk/s320/BB1.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water park fun</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwX8emNQApTApnNL7481d4gpXdgLpNBtHx1_29EXhT3pX1stDMzoi3D7NtWfJvO9ZYC0r2tcIKfK8jZ6LNwhgiJ9j5Dis-oYL1jY6X5_SQygiFXE_ps1prtSVaoeCJfxYzuunEQviINI/s1600/April+Fun+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwX8emNQApTApnNL7481d4gpXdgLpNBtHx1_29EXhT3pX1stDMzoi3D7NtWfJvO9ZYC0r2tcIKfK8jZ6LNwhgiJ9j5Dis-oYL1jY6X5_SQygiFXE_ps1prtSVaoeCJfxYzuunEQviINI/s320/April+Fun+046.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A relaxing Sunday at the Sasse residence.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixW6DzbpYmNR838GbN834V7dFxGkaFR_0uI9iedcz73oI6Jp1rzsxccnOanw4s55qAGQM9xft8P-h21hmWtc0_9t7wszyihyU4dBJuddH8iyZI9wx2hWFMV0f81Ll_pHgjJ4xuROv1fAY/s1600/Frog+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixW6DzbpYmNR838GbN834V7dFxGkaFR_0uI9iedcz73oI6Jp1rzsxccnOanw4s55qAGQM9xft8P-h21hmWtc0_9t7wszyihyU4dBJuddH8iyZI9wx2hWFMV0f81Ll_pHgjJ4xuROv1fAY/s320/Frog+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Definitely going to miss days like these.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacFvTiKIJoSYMKQ4dM3jD4SYWyE1IOT7_wV8jH_KSlxLWKEF1xIDGhDPPEbUJUr_ZNpKtZQ3VnJETjcuj5lY9kI4t66_Eb3GObNrrn3RBB2l7i-x_GG60L6WuiUhUeRB6S1i1pCQz4GU/s1600/June+2010+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacFvTiKIJoSYMKQ4dM3jD4SYWyE1IOT7_wV8jH_KSlxLWKEF1xIDGhDPPEbUJUr_ZNpKtZQ3VnJETjcuj5lY9kI4t66_Eb3GObNrrn3RBB2l7i-x_GG60L6WuiUhUeRB6S1i1pCQz4GU/s320/June+2010+006.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Horseshoe show-down</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCJRv461rzjVCvSeY_vih7Z5Ds5t8PnTj-TomEusYDvVyplppv_4MvMVyU5gzaCPZFjkp2lIGs5fThxKW-wuwtzHtQ9GuwfzgWBiKBNpp8aBQxcaN77fS9cXnshI5Gepbxvn7WQCSDzg/s1600/2010-07-25_02-16-47_788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCJRv461rzjVCvSeY_vih7Z5Ds5t8PnTj-TomEusYDvVyplppv_4MvMVyU5gzaCPZFjkp2lIGs5fThxKW-wuwtzHtQ9GuwfzgWBiKBNpp8aBQxcaN77fS9cXnshI5Gepbxvn7WQCSDzg/s320/2010-07-25_02-16-47_788.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slumber party</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6_DZmbNnBSHvO-SZgLiuOh3SCI9se-UVtPtXX8P0uNEB_m-sIKvLpSX8kSgxqw_VCJjHWtY38FPM00KqOmBgwoEqasKUBNlW8_E54y6ZKLnsnYHwJPqI7ZJvaUazLEGEBEtvQuBLmkc/s1600/2010-07-31_21-57-49_930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6_DZmbNnBSHvO-SZgLiuOh3SCI9se-UVtPtXX8P0uNEB_m-sIKvLpSX8kSgxqw_VCJjHWtY38FPM00KqOmBgwoEqasKUBNlW8_E54y6ZKLnsnYHwJPqI7ZJvaUazLEGEBEtvQuBLmkc/s320/2010-07-31_21-57-49_930.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signing the pact.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhic_1VXIwtZi9cIo2i0C_HNSjVo6IjtXeMtp5X_4mxK6S3qyt4wgWf0vzY_eR7CmJewJbgspCPzJgXAdyjTEO2K6XTlT_Lg6OsIrpCO9diCyLv1Lll4PSO7fhw0Xsqc4O9x4nE-t6-HhM/s1600/2010-07-31_21-59-06_228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhic_1VXIwtZi9cIo2i0C_HNSjVo6IjtXeMtp5X_4mxK6S3qyt4wgWf0vzY_eR7CmJewJbgspCPzJgXAdyjTEO2K6XTlT_Lg6OsIrpCO9diCyLv1Lll4PSO7fhw0Xsqc4O9x4nE-t6-HhM/s320/2010-07-31_21-59-06_228.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pact</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8AzqZeomJkunNlzMUNfSwF7ulxT1R74lcVOQ6DNjrBDU92DwDz2fHsJZ0Ou-tpRYWcBROCzCBVEkks7cbDHXqwgjwdiy463QJE4S_U1ohxr8bVdhk0vTXVSziVktm3cymLOTO8pXjJ0/s1600/Randoms+025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8AzqZeomJkunNlzMUNfSwF7ulxT1R74lcVOQ6DNjrBDU92DwDz2fHsJZ0Ou-tpRYWcBROCzCBVEkks7cbDHXqwgjwdiy463QJE4S_U1ohxr8bVdhk0vTXVSziVktm3cymLOTO8pXjJ0/s320/Randoms+025.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A goofy bunch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-uLIBBOTS3O9MQB4JHgJ_MDQcroVxxQiI0HewBTQX7Oh8sRJEm6Wd4srd8w1tvqRGmz3oTUodp0Qpvc4THvn2joup40GSmt1IFdpX6Xzge_WYJbPoZFt95FQ9eSWlZJrOL403G1Ejhg/s1600/2010-08-01_00-35-26_10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-uLIBBOTS3O9MQB4JHgJ_MDQcroVxxQiI0HewBTQX7Oh8sRJEm6Wd4srd8w1tvqRGmz3oTUodp0Qpvc4THvn2joup40GSmt1IFdpX6Xzge_WYJbPoZFt95FQ9eSWlZJrOL403G1Ejhg/s320/2010-08-01_00-35-26_10.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Epic Wii battle on their last night in Orlando; Jolyon wearing his "I Love NY" shirt in support.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jXclWkRjkWtkHBESMgWl0wDS9KKRtcVJoBD-6aSTrpEbmKE-KMdr4XHiNCjId8CmfzRk8LbbQdySCBg7g9PYMJfisknCO1JHBf4qtRoJtbS1KxwWbRg900oEStQGSevgy9pEfiWhzsk/s1600/2010-08-01_00-47-29_311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jXclWkRjkWtkHBESMgWl0wDS9KKRtcVJoBD-6aSTrpEbmKE-KMdr4XHiNCjId8CmfzRk8LbbQdySCBg7g9PYMJfisknCO1JHBf4qtRoJtbS1KxwWbRg900oEStQGSevgy9pEfiWhzsk/s320/2010-08-01_00-47-29_311.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jolyon finally gets his hug.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOy621TWD35BU_nBywLckE1viqC3OO2WFxABS9-QTvdTz40ITJrYLfFRTgb5d-xnqrAfKwu6VLwLvr9JmPmYfrb0D_pg1nobXH2UXzvYOcIlINCXIMev6jQALZqtZf8mQcvlaESrdXN0/s1600/2010-07-31_16-23-29_833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOy621TWD35BU_nBywLckE1viqC3OO2WFxABS9-QTvdTz40ITJrYLfFRTgb5d-xnqrAfKwu6VLwLvr9JmPmYfrb0D_pg1nobXH2UXzvYOcIlINCXIMev6jQALZqtZf8mQcvlaESrdXN0/s320/2010-07-31_16-23-29_833.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Final moments.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdP2nJn1cZGMIb7eExac5qi2VdCFPa9AjzEn-e6jyX0P0gRXQLq2BNvDgEHpORVslKqU9wGTFsTeTX6QtyoPPOdhdhvYA1Ceab128CN9mt295aMxc-f7D_fk0fasWbBTfeWIrSAJY6V_M/s1600/DakMove+086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdP2nJn1cZGMIb7eExac5qi2VdCFPa9AjzEn-e6jyX0P0gRXQLq2BNvDgEHpORVslKqU9wGTFsTeTX6QtyoPPOdhdhvYA1Ceab128CN9mt295aMxc-f7D_fk0fasWbBTfeWIrSAJY6V_M/s200/DakMove+086.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
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An unforgettable foursome.</div>
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<strong>"The tender friendships one gives up, on parting, leave their bite on the heart, but also a curious feeling of a treasure somewhere buried." </strong><br />
<strong>~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry</strong></div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-60573220840229629422010-07-30T17:35:00.001-04:002010-07-30T17:35:20.027-04:00Technology<p>Technology is amazing. <br/> <br/> This coming from the girl who- not less than three years ago- still clung to her VCR and prized VHS tapes. I haven't jumped on the blueray bandwagon just yet (I'm not that much of a lemming), but it's only a matter of time. <br/> <br/> I've gotten off track. <br/> <br/> I'm writing this post from my new smart phone - a DROID X. It was released on July 15th and I still can't believe I own this fascinating miniature computer disguised as a cellular device, enabling me to be further socially connected and engaged with the world. <br/> <br/> Two key features of note: 8 mp camera and speech-to-text functionality. I can snap a vivid picture of my chocolate gelato at lunch (did that), talk into my phone a brief caption for said photo (also did that), and click send or post. Instant connection. (Did that, too.) <br/> <br/> I can now chuckle alongside other smart phone owners as we stand on our proverbial platform of "there's an app for that, you know." <br/> <br/> And, damn. There really IS an app for everything. <br/> <br/> </p><div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.4.8</div>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-76538325510316584092010-07-02T18:39:00.000-04:002010-07-02T18:39:57.747-04:00What Your Facebook Status Means to OthersIn my <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-im-not-quitting-facebook-and-other.html">previous post</a>, I briefly commented on social media’s ability to create and maintain one’s personal brand. Have you ever stopped to think about how your social network perceives you, or if you’re having any influence over your connections?<br />
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We all want to tell our unique stories – some of us more so than others. Social media enables us to do this, whether it’s in complete novels on a blog, a video on YouTube, or in cliffhanging snippets on Twitter and Facebook status updates. We all want to be heard. To be connected. To be empathized with. And most of us enjoy listening to and reading the stories of others, particularly when we can reap the benefits. Otherwise, why participate in social media at all?<br />
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Let’s focus on Facebook for a moment. If you’re an active user (i.e. you participate in discussions via commenting and update your status message on a regular basis), you’re customizing your personal brand. Just like in face-to-face conversations, your words ultimately reflect your external perception. Are you cognizant of the brand you’re crafting for yourself? <br />
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We may or may not even be conscious of what our status updates or comments are indicating to the rest of the world. How do the following status updates make you feel? Which ones invite a real response?<br />
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<strong>Friend 1’s status:</strong> “Why do people suck so much? FML.”<br />
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<strong>Friend 2’s status:</strong> “Is bummed about this weather. Anyone have any suggestions for indoor, relatively cheap, activities in the Boston area this weekend?”<br />
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<strong>Friend 3’s status:</strong> “Could this day get any worse? So over it.”<br />
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<strong>Friend 4’s status:</strong> “Is infuriated and thinks everyone should read CNN’s recent article about the gulf oil spill. What do you think?”<br />
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As Facebook continues to grow, I’ve started adding more companies and “liking” more sites than ever before. Therefore, I don’t have time to scroll through my newsfeed and be bothered with negative status updates that offer nothing to the community, other than their harsh words and woe-as-me attitudes. I’ve divorced many Facebook connections because their status messages or comments on others’ posts were consistently negative. Frankly, I just don’t have time for those stories, especially if the poster is less than an acquaintance (e.g., Billy from my second grade class who I “friended” two years ago just to see what he’s doing for a living now.). <br />
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We’ve all posted the occasional “had a terrible day; send me happy thoughts” status because we rely on our friends and networks for the ego boost or virtual hug. It’s about connection, after all. But we all know the people who complain for the sake of complaining; they need to process their emotions outwardly and Facebook provides a great platform to do just that. I wonder if these people even realize what they’re really telling the world about themselves. <br />
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In some instances, the explosion of “here’s how much my life sucks right now” can lead to further connections and conversations (“I know exactly how you feel! That happened to me last year…”), but, overall, I grow tired of negative attitudes cluttering my Facebook newsfeed – especially if the negativity does not ask for others’ advice, inspire others to change, or cause readers to reflect.<br />
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So, my fellow Facebook users, I encourage you to think twice before projecting vague negative energy into the community. Not only does it do nothing to help your cause, but it hurts your personal brand. Instead, channel your negative thoughts into questions and ask your connections for advice. <br />
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That’s the beauty of social media, after all.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-16387697472782110462010-06-03T18:40:00.000-04:002010-06-03T18:40:08.476-04:00Why I'm Not Quitting Facebook (And Other Thoughts on Social Media)Did you know that Memorial Day was also “Quit Facebook Day”? It was designed to be a huge sign of protest to Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg as a result of the recent privacy exploits. I didn’t pay much attention to the news or read the related articles about the privacy issue, mainly because I realize that all great innovations tend to have bumpy starts, and this isn't the first time Facebook's protesters have raised a rucus. Besides, social media, while already incredibly powerful, is a growing breed that will continue to evolve as we experiment further with technology. Anyway, if you missed the event, you can <a href="http://www.quitfacebookday.com/">read all about it here</a>.<br />
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And you can <a href="http://www.pcmag.com/article2/0,2817,2364338,00.asp">read about how the event was a complete flop here</a>. <br />
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I'll admit I'm not well-informed about the debate, but it seems to me that before people (36,000 out of 400 million, roughly .07%) create an uproar and cut off their social networks, perhaps they should try lobbying for more positive change. Help educate one another about the privacy issues and work towards creating stronger guidelines for future protection. Rallying the troops to leave a site that 400 million people and companies deem worthwhile seems counter-productive to the social media trend. Sure, Facebook could use a few bandaids, so perhaps the .07% of the site's disgruntled users should stop bickering and creating mass protests and start working together to improve the site. Afterwards, if these users still feel exposed by Facebook's actions, then by all means - leave the site. <br />
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What it really comes down to, though, is having the self-control to regulate and monitor your own Facebook (or any other social networking application) activity. If there's information you don't want people to know, <strong>then don't post it.</strong> It's really that black and white. Social networking was created for information-sharing, and social media, as a whole, allows us (as consumers) to both consume <em>and</em> produce content for the masses. In general, most folks who get themselves in trouble are the ones who treat these applications like their own personal diary.<br />
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Today's internet allows for many mediums in which we can create our own personal brand, and Facebook is smart to capitalize on it with their "like" button appearing all over the web. I like the simple ability to shape my external perception, whether it’s through <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/">my blog</a> (e.g., the post you’re reading now), the companies and pages I “like” on Facebook and the general web, or the comments and status updates on Facebook.<br />
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And lets not forget about the ability to be connected 24/7, thanks to the development of mobile applications of our favorite social sites. This makes some folks shiver, but I (extrovert) thrive on being able to quickly connect with my husband, a friend, or family member. While making a quick walk down the hall to the rest room, I can find out that Katie just had her baby, Tim's plane is delayed, and three of my friends won't make it to volleyball tonight. <br />
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So, no. I'm not quitting Facebook, despite the privacy issue. And I think the development of further social media isn't stopping anytime soon.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-75230281990974741052010-04-13T22:03:00.004-04:002010-04-13T22:06:13.817-04:00Owning the RootsI subscribe to updates from the <a href="http://www.dailyom.com/">DailyOM</a>, and today's article was particularly relevant for me. Rather than paraphrase, I'm including the text below. My quest for self-improvement continues; happy reading!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Owning the Roots: Leading by Example</strong> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Often the best way to create change is not to try to convince others to change, but to change ourselves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">We all know from experience that we can’t change other people, yet most of us have a tendency to try. This is because we naturally feel the need to do something to change situations that we find troubling. It often doesn’t occur to us that the best way to create change is not to try to convince others to change but to change ourselves. When we make adjustments from within, we become role models for others, and leading by example is much more inspiring than a lecture or an argument. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">We sometimes look outside ourselves for what’s wrong with the world, but the outside world is really just a mirror reflecting us back to ourselves. When we encounter negativity—anger, depression, fear—we empower ourselves by looking for its roots inside of ourselves. For example, if you have a friend who is unreliable, observe yourself and notice if there are ways in which you are unreliable. You may be surprised to discover that you have your own struggles with this issue in ways you weren’t able to see. Once you own the issue for yourself, you can begin to work for change within yourself. This will also enable you to have more compassion for your friend. At the very least, as you strive to become more reliable, you will become more of the person you want to be. In the best-case scenario, you will be an inspiration to others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">You can apply the same method to larger issues. For example, if there is something you see in the larger world that you would like to change—let’s say, greed—try taking responsibility for changing it in yourself. Instead of being angry with those you see as greedy, seek out the roots of your own greed and come to terms with your power to transform it. This may be the best way to lead the world toward greater moderation and generosity.</span>Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-69967876172866014202010-04-11T23:14:00.002-04:002010-04-11T23:16:16.122-04:00Spring Rejuvenation<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOuHi8zHUzE0ps54fvbFTv0EE3CnWzinsh1luaaHgqqFrRdsPduTof8s4NmZ8wZ0lATnjDhCVt-HYyAS5iol-Ny8rWU5c8BJVlS1WUn1Cvjc0IAx8yYV__aE4GZkwbOc_uCELLQNgQZ4/s1600/Easter+in+WPB+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOuHi8zHUzE0ps54fvbFTv0EE3CnWzinsh1luaaHgqqFrRdsPduTof8s4NmZ8wZ0lATnjDhCVt-HYyAS5iol-Ny8rWU5c8BJVlS1WUn1Cvjc0IAx8yYV__aE4GZkwbOc_uCELLQNgQZ4/s200/Easter+in+WPB+027.jpg" width="200" wt="true" /></a>There's something about spring that make me feel lighter. Not lighter in the sense that I can shed my responsibilities and frolic in a field of flowers, but lighter in that I have a renewed energy and that unstoppable "I can do anything" mindset that was more common in my early 20s.</div>
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I'm embracing this newfound Lighter Me and we're traveling to unknown places together. Lighter Me coerced me into signing up for my first dance class - a class called <a href="http://www.zumba.com/us/about/">Zumba</a>. It's one incredible workout, but, wow - dance is not my calling. I knew this, of course; I was essentially kicked out of ballet class when I was five. My limbs move independent from my core, and it's not an attractive sight. But I don't care. Lighter Me makes it easier to laugh at myself, to enjoy being completely out of my element in this eight-week experience.<br />
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Lighter Me also showed me the impact that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yoga">Yoga </a>can have on my mind and body. I attended a Gentle Yoga class with <a href="http://majekmoon14.blogspot.com/">Robin</a> last weekend in West Palm Beach, and a hour and 15 minutes later I was hooked. I've been desperately searching for a studio near my house that offers introductory or beginner's classes. It seems the typical yoga practitioner does not have a 9-5 job, because most classes are offered during that time. I hope to find something that fits my schedule soon.<br />
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Lighter Me wants me to eat more organic food, to learn to cook (healthier), to forgive quicker, to be slower to anger, and to do one thing every day that is just for me. In my ideal life, Lighter Me becomes a close friend, and I can't determine where I end and she begins. My normal routine becomes infused with new experiences and daily challenges. I stop wasting time and start writing, scrapbooking, and creating. I dance to an offbeat rhythm and never look back.Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3056565929997414407.post-70083943044879941372010-03-02T22:05:00.002-05:002010-03-02T22:07:21.157-05:00A Need to Be Needed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWok66Z63YAjDa3L7KFXOK5hGy6rGhi1uYh_77o2h3XCYrnpyk-nWzoNff6WF-rwNkF1OaSjQ0NvVeDLfga6DK9tcLP-6M4TI9RgQLvtWFTYHg3_XBzI3t2-EXt_U8o-W0wA4y5BP_Bc/s1600-h/Hope_s_Helping_Hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWok66Z63YAjDa3L7KFXOK5hGy6rGhi1uYh_77o2h3XCYrnpyk-nWzoNff6WF-rwNkF1OaSjQ0NvVeDLfga6DK9tcLP-6M4TI9RgQLvtWFTYHg3_XBzI3t2-EXt_U8o-W0wA4y5BP_Bc/s200/Hope_s_Helping_Hand.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
"I'm sorry! It's just... I have an uncontrollable need to please people!" <br />
-Monica, <em>Friends</em><br />
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The variants in the human personality fascinate me. When I was a <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/04/flashbacks.html">teenager</a>, I would sprawl out on my twin-size bed, pen in hand, and spend hours filling out quizzes in magazines. "What kind of kisser are you?" "What will your career be?" "What animal are you?" "What does your handwriting say about you?" And so on.<br />
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As I grew up, I learned that those quizzes were pure garbage. Yet I still succumb to filling out a few on Facebook. I just can't help myself.<br />
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I pride myself on being very self-aware. I recognize my flaws (passive-aggression being the largest) and embrace <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/08/balancing-acts.html">my strengths</a> (intuition/ability to read people). And I truly enjoy analyzing others; I love learning what makes each person unique.<br />
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As an adult, I now lean towards more accurate personality tests, like the <a href="http://www.personalitypathways.com/MBTI_intro.html">Myers-Briggs</a> indicator. I'm an <a href="http://www.typelogic.com/enfj.html">ENFJ</a>, and have been for ten years - so that's probably not changing anytime soon. Recently, though, I discovered another seemingly accurate personality test called the <a href="http://www.eclecticenergies.com/enneagram/test.php">Enneagram Test</a> (thanks to an email from my good friend <a href="http://majekmoon14.blogspot.com/2010/03/hello-gorgeous.html">Robin</a>). My result? I'm a <a href="http://www.eclecticenergies.com/enneagram/type2.php">Type Two - Helper</a>, with a <a href="http://www.eclecticenergies.com/enneagram/type3.php">Type Three - Achiever</a> wing and a <a href="http://www.eclecticenergies.com/enneagram/variants.php">Social Variant</a>.<br />
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I didn't learn anything new after reading my results, but it certainly reinforced my innate "need to be needed." I feel fulfilled when <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009-open-eyes-and-open-heart.html">I'm helping someone</a> else, and I have an uncontrollable urge to please people, to be needed, and to be liked. Because of this, I <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/11/swinging-on-birches.html">avoid confrontation</a> and engage in <a href="http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-others-think.html">passive aggressive behavior</a>. And I've grown to accept this, because I cannot change it. We all have our flaws, the question is: do you embrace them, or do you deny their existance? Hopefully not the latter, as it will become difficult for you to achieve full self-awareness and self-acceptance.<br />
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So, what's your type? Are you willing to dissect your flaws?Shelly Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17140846949190099540noreply@blogger.com1