<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683</id><updated>2011-08-01T09:02:58.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is an Adventure</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-5292977177273585631</id><published>2011-03-31T21:57:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T22:41:58.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ringing in April</title><content type='html'>It's only 2 hours until April. So, I figure now is as good as a time as ever to add another little gem to my blog. No promises on the value of said gem, though. This might only end up to be a .25 carat blemished little sucker. Thanks for loving me anyway. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has come to my attention that &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm ridiculous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait...we already knew that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Exhibit A&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FIrVoAf8H0U/TZVG4dyLjVI/AAAAAAAAADg/Cv4HlTSVexs/s1600/30772_393107937185_632202185_4674348_3269971_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 465px; height: 310px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FIrVoAf8H0U/TZVG4dyLjVI/AAAAAAAAADg/Cv4HlTSVexs/s320/30772_393107937185_632202185_4674348_3269971_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590452448332057938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Being ridiculous must run in the family...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;But it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to clarify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it is better said that I have recently been forced to confront the awful truth that I am a still, no matter how much I talk about being a grown up, I'm still a little bitty girl. I am unable to deny that I am so terrified of making the wrong choices in my life, that sometimes I deny myself even living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;figuratively&lt;/span&gt;, silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't spend all my time hiding in my room, wrapped under the bed covers refusing to come out. Far from it! I actually probably don't spend as much quality time with my bed as I should. Case in point: it is now officially past my make-believe official bed time. But I'm not in bed. I'm on the couch. Watching Univision (because no one else is home and I can get away with it!!! Not that that's ever stopped me before though :). I think my pretty bed is jealous of the couch. Poor thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm trying to say, is that when it comes to certain aspects of my life, I live in so much fear of making the wrong choice that I never choose. I just sit there biding my time and waiting to choose without ever actually choosing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been proverbially smacked upside the head with a glimpse of what life would be like if I stick to that path. Now I'm not claiming to be a psychic or storyteller, but I can kind of see how the decisions I make now will play out in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I keep pretending the decisions before me don't exist, I won't be unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also won't be using all of my gifts and abilities to their greatest levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be running at &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;50&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; or maybe &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;75%&lt;/span&gt; of capacity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the problem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WANT TO USE IT ALL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friends, as you help me ring in April (and may it be filled with warm, lovely weather, and may we not all get fooled too badly tomorrow!), I ask that you help keep me accountable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't &lt;/span&gt;let me get lazy. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't&lt;/span&gt; let me keep sweeping my junk under the rug or stuffing it in the closet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, my camita is calling. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-5292977177273585631?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5292977177273585631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2011/03/ringing-in-april.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/5292977177273585631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/5292977177273585631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2011/03/ringing-in-april.html' title='Ringing in April'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FIrVoAf8H0U/TZVG4dyLjVI/AAAAAAAAADg/Cv4HlTSVexs/s72-c/30772_393107937185_632202185_4674348_3269971_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-690104340311243368</id><published>2011-02-21T12:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T13:10:24.244-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brick Wall</title><content type='html'>I was just pondering life. Specifically &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; life, and this little analogy came to mind. I actually think it's spot on to how I feel right now which really makes me excited because usually my analogies require a lot of stretching for them to make sense at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, right now I feel like I'm standing before a brick wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not talking a brick retaining wall. No, I mean a legit brick wall that's, say, 10-15 feet high. And it stretches on either side for forever, or at least too far for me to walk around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I want to get to what's on the other side of that wall. Now, mind you, I have NO CLUE what is on the other side of that wall, but I do know that I feel impelled to get to that side. To see what is over there. To fully experience life. Because up to now I've only been able to experience what is on my side of the wall. But I know that there is a lot more on that other side if I could just get over there. And I feel like God is calling me there. He wants me to come to that other side. Probably even more than I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tricky part is I can't go around the wall (it stretches for seemingly forever, remember). And I can't go through the wall because I don't have any tools or any cool superpowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I stand before the wall and look up. Because up is the only way I'm getting over it. But up scares me. Because up is going to be a lot of work. If I could walk around the wall, it would be easy. Because I know how to walk. And even if I have to walk a long ways, I'm experienced at it. I know I can do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I could somehow go through the wall, that would be great too. Because either a) I'd have some wicked awesome superpower that would let me do it, b) I'd have power tools that I could use, or c) even with just a chisel I could take my frustration out on the stupid wall for being so difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So really, my only option is to scale the wall myself, which makes me really nervous, or just give up. And I don't want to give up. But I know it's going to be really hard and challenging and long if I try to do it by myself. Which means, in turn, that I need help. And I don't really like asking for help either (stupid feminist ideals!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it looks like that combined with faith and trust are my only options.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-690104340311243368?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/690104340311243368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2011/02/brick-wall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/690104340311243368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/690104340311243368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2011/02/brick-wall.html' title='Brick Wall'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-5877986844940895746</id><published>2010-11-03T19:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T20:25:06.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time</title><content type='html'>I've been really encouraged by some friends lately. I am very blessed to have some great little (and big) fountains of wisdom in my life. I don't think I realize how much God intervenes in my life in small ways. I'm always sitting around waiting for the big things to happen that I forget that every part of my existence is dependent on Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have been struggling a lot with the idea of time. I know that money doesn't and can't buy happiness. It is more of a crutch or bandaid than the solution for all life problems when it comes right down to it. But I do spend a lot of time wishing for just that, time. This is at least partially due to me being stuck on the idea that given enough time, I can do anything. Which is mostly true, but you can't discount the guy who makes all of that possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest complaint that I have right now is that I'm realizing that I really don't have enough time to do everything. It isn't all feasible. Unless I turn out to be like Methuselah and live almost 1,000 years. And one of my bffs reminded me that if I imagine all of the great things that I could possibly do in life and have the greatest life that I could imagine and multiply it by a thousand, what God can do is still way bigger than that. My mind can't even comprehend that greatness! And the coolest thing is that all I have to do is follow his will and let him guide me. And see, that's the catch. Because no matter how hard I try it is still this enormous struggle for me to have faith and just believe, to trust that He has a plan far greater than my wildest dreams. I know in my head that I can't be self-sufficient and that I have to trust, but my heart is a whole other ball field.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-5877986844940895746?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5877986844940895746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/11/ive-been-really-encouraged-by-some.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/5877986844940895746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/5877986844940895746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/11/ive-been-really-encouraged-by-some.html' title='Time'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-2409626269723264875</id><published>2010-09-21T21:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T22:22:59.541-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life....hmmm....</title><content type='html'>Sitting here nursing a mug of sleepytime because I have a headache and its 9:55 and I should be in bed and flirting with sleep in about 5 minutes. That's depressing. It used to be ridiculous for me to even bother trying to go to bed before midnight. Maybe I'm normal now, but I don't know. I kind of miss my late nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was chatting with one of my bffs last night. She lives in El Salvador so I don't really get to talk to her much anymore which is also kind of sad, but legitimately so. We were talking about life and how we wish we could be back at school with each other, complaining on her couch and eating tres leches cake or THE cake (you know which cake I'm talking about) and then deciding by the end of it that we would survive. Cake and her couch and each other always made life seem right somehow. Anyways, now I could really use that because I feel like my life is at a giant crossroads and I'm just a little ant sitting in the middle not knowing which way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant dilemma of my crossroads centers on a few things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job. To stay or not to stay. To wait for the right something else to come along or to grab the first decent opportunity that I get. ...to just quit tomorrow. I don't like it. To be honest, it's lost any luster that it originally had. The only scary thing is I don't have an end date where I know I'll be done with it. Post-college jobs aren't like college ones, where you know that at the end of the summer that you'll be done and so if you can just bear it until then, you'll be good. Nope. Now I have to be a grownup and stick with it unless I find something else. Otherwise I'm going to be living in the car that isn't even my car and eating ketchup packets for sustenance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so that was a little dramatic. but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grad School. The question isn't to go or not to go anymore. We've got harder questions to deal with now. You know the types, the W questions. Where to go, when to go, what the heck to study. And then there is the one, lovely, token H question-How the heck to pay for it. I thought my life was supposed to get easier once I graduated. I will have the slip of paper that says I survived 4 years of hard work and diligence, qualifying me for all of the wonderful jobs that all types of great companies and people want to offer me. Isn't my ideal life picturesque? Instead I'm greeted with the fact that I am in educational limbo right now. It seems like all of the jobs that I'm qualified for don't even require a bachelors because the pay grade is so low. The other jobs that I really want to do require a masters and/or several years of experience. Neither of which I have right now. Shoot. And I'd go to school tomorrow if I could to start working towards that, but then there comes the catch 22, I don't know what to study yet anyway!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! is how I feel right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know that God has me here for a reason, and I'm sure it's a pretty darn good one. But I just want to learn my lesson right now and move to the next thing. I'm ready to like my job and to be excited to go everyday instead of dreading it and counting the minutes until I can leave. I don't want to spend 9 hours of everyday in a place that I don't really enjoy doing things that I don't enjoy, plus another 2 hours travelling and preparing to go there everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I'm trying to sort a lot of things out right now and I'm doing an awful lot of praying too. And I'd be eating cake too, but I feel like sitting on the couch with just my computer and an entire cake would be a bit much. Haha...I'll just stick to my tea and my chocolate dipped digestives for now (shout out to Libby for getting them at world market for us!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-2409626269723264875?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/2409626269723264875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/09/sitting-here-nursing-mug-of-sleepytime.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/2409626269723264875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/2409626269723264875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/09/sitting-here-nursing-mug-of-sleepytime.html' title='Life....hmmm....'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-1314930004272031057</id><published>2010-08-13T23:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T01:06:52.528-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick little update</title><content type='html'>I was just talking to a friend on the phone and she asked if I had a blog. And I said that I did, but that I'm bad about posting things. So that was the proverbial kick-in-the-butt reminder to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; add to my haphazard collection of blog posts. I'd just like to say that I really do have the intentions and desires to keep up with this, but I'm kinda bad at the following through part. But, you know what they say: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, here's a little taste of what life looks like for me right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work 8:30 to 5:30 most days, unless call volume is really low, and then sometimes I get to go home early. That is usually one of my favorite surprises from my supervisor. I can usually guess when she is about to ask me if I'd be okay with leaving, and I start to get really excited...and then I immediately log off of my phone so that I don't get a call right when I'm trying to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also started taking Spanish calls at the end of last week, so this was my first full week being in the Spanish queues. It's been interesting for sure. I'm afraid that I seem like an uneducated person a lot of times, just because I jumble my words, go tongue-tied, and get ahead of myself quite a bit. Plus I have this weird mix of accent that nobody can place. I blame Andalucians for teaching me to "comer las palabras". As it turns out though, the more I practice, the better the calls go. I'm hoping I continue to improve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sports&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined the a local Ultimate Frisbee club for Summer League this year so for the last little while I've been learning about and playing Ultimate with some pretty great people. I'm far from perfect, but I'm slowly learning how ultimate offense and defense is works and how to execute plays correctly. Granted, the main part of ultimate that involves the actual &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;throwing &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;catching&lt;/span&gt; of the disc, isn't my strong suit, but I like to think I'm working on that as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Travel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides relocating once to NW Arkansas this summer, I've also travelled back to Greality to see Keith Urban (OMG, yessssss!) and drag my belongings to AR, gone to St. Louis for the first time ever and eaten the best Spanish food that I've been able to find this side of the Mississippi (think albóndigas, paella, jamón serrano, aceitunas, etc), and moved all of my possessions (again) to Springdale. Next in store: another trip back to northern Colorado in order to visit a friend from Spain!!!!! I know it seems kinda silly to be going back home....again...for a three day weekend this time (but still!). The way I look at it, I don't know when I'll be able to see any of my Spanish friends again, and let's be honest, 800 miles through one country is a heck of a lot easier to arrange than travel over however many thousands of miles it would take to get back to my favorite peninsula.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TGYw1skZt2I/AAAAAAAAADI/2aE-BHZgMJ4/s1600/14667_1305474801642_1373673657_883407_7601512_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TGYw1skZt2I/AAAAAAAAADI/2aE-BHZgMJ4/s320/14667_1305474801642_1373673657_883407_7601512_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505141293562050402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll take this opportunity and run with it, thank you very much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TGYw1skZt2I/AAAAAAAAADI/2aE-BHZgMJ4/s1600/14667_1305474801642_1373673657_883407_7601512_n.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Hopefully I'll add something of a little more interest soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...don't hold your breath, though, kay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-1314930004272031057?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1314930004272031057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/08/quick-little-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/1314930004272031057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/1314930004272031057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/08/quick-little-update.html' title='Quick little update'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TGYw1skZt2I/AAAAAAAAADI/2aE-BHZgMJ4/s72-c/14667_1305474801642_1373673657_883407_7601512_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-452213548907349456</id><published>2010-07-02T18:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T19:05:20.844-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Livin la Vida Arkansas</title><content type='html'>Hey ya'll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not dead, yet (just thought you should know that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back in Arkansas, though. I moved back tentatively with the goal of finding a job in two weeks or moving back home if I didn't have one. I knew it was going to be tough to achieve that goal, but hey, I think life likes a challenge every now and then. And the Good Lord came through and found a job for me my first day back. And I know He's got a sense of humor because I'm working 8:30 to 5:30 (and I hate mornings), and I'm talking with strangers on the phone (and I hate talking with strangers on the phone).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how I felt like I needed to get a job in a specific field so that I could use all of my wonderful, awesome skills in this super job and save the world. I'd be superhero Amber. Maybe I'd even wear a cape and have super powers like flying or xray vision...okay, so probably not the cape, but I'm still holding out for flying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think God's reminding me that He's the one who does the saving, silly. I'm just a method to the madness if I'm humble enough to allow that. If I'm not humble enough to be a participant, then I only get to be a spectator. You always learn those lessons when you least expect them. You'd think I'd be prepared for that by now, but no, I'm just a silly little human. I don't learn well. It takes a lot of practice and a lot of messing up....and then more practice, and eventually you work out most of the kinks. But never all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the funny thing about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe that's the beauty of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, I'm excited to see where this ride takes me. And you. And I hope you're excited about that too.&lt;br /&gt;Hey look, I rhymed :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;_________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a quick note, I'd like to point out that the blog style and background has recently changed due to an itching to update to something more fun and to play with blogger's new template designer. But I would like to highlight the picture. Look at that beautiful background. I saw it as one of the provided options when I was designing and I did a double take because I thought I recognized the place. And I DID recognize it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll never guess what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I'll tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the Plaza de Toros in Sevilla where they hold the bullfights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been there. I've seen a bull fight there. I'll prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at my picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TC59qRAxHDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/dN-75DNxWSs/s1600/Espa%C3%B1a+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TC59qRAxHDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/dN-75DNxWSs/s320/Espa%C3%B1a+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489463160885812274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Hi Yesi!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look at the background picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TC5-JsVFYbI/AAAAAAAAADA/wj8sW3cqYXE/s1600/Espa%C3%B1a+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TC5-JsVFYbI/AAAAAAAAADA/wj8sW3cqYXE/s320/Espa%C3%B1a+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489463700794728882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the background picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I told you. How cool is that? I mean really, I never thought that I could say that I've gone to one of the places where a cool artsy picture like that was taken. But I have. Booya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now go shoot of some firecrackers and enjoy all the Independence Day festivities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-452213548907349456?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/452213548907349456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/07/livin-la-vida-arkansas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/452213548907349456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/452213548907349456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/07/livin-la-vida-arkansas.html' title='Livin la Vida Arkansas'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/TC59qRAxHDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/dN-75DNxWSs/s72-c/Espa%C3%B1a+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-5639190670546970473</id><published>2010-05-03T13:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T13:47:36.464-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of the world as I know it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y8v0TIHI/AAAAAAAAACw/YizYvQVWN5E/s1600/IMG000104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y8v0TIHI/AAAAAAAAACw/YizYvQVWN5E/s200/IMG000104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115904558112882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finals week is here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y7jJqkkI/AAAAAAAAACg/PxvII2UK8jw/s1600/IMG000118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y7jJqkkI/AAAAAAAAACg/PxvII2UK8jw/s200/IMG000118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115883978199618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My last finals week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...or at least until I go to grad school...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; I go to grad school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YgeQ8DkI/AAAAAAAAACI/wYegZP6m5xQ/s1600/IMG000127.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;WEIRD.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YgeQ8DkI/AAAAAAAAACI/wYegZP6m5xQ/s1600/IMG000127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YgeQ8DkI/AAAAAAAAACI/wYegZP6m5xQ/s200/IMG000127.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115418810060354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's strange to think that in 5 days I will leave behind the only form of life that I have known for the past 17 years and enter into the foreign world of....ADULT. *shudder*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YhiBhu6I/AAAAAAAAACY/v2kMaSxSsq4/s1600/IMG000120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YhiBhu6I/AAAAAAAAACY/v2kMaSxSsq4/s200/IMG000120.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115436999031714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm sure it's not really that bad. And, to be completely honest, I think it's going to be a refreshing change from the crazy of college. Not that I don't love crazy, or search for it. But I can't say that I will miss staying up until 4 studying for an exam or writing a paper. Nor will I miss the part about racking up massive amounts of loan debt (although now I get the privilege to pay that debt off...hmm).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Yg4oxzkI/AAAAAAAAACQ/h8448VCUmOM/s1600/IMG000124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Yg4oxzkI/AAAAAAAAACQ/h8448VCUmOM/s200/IMG000124.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115425889373762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That being said, this ending is bittersweet for me. Sweet in the sense that I will finally get to be really independent (after I finally find a job and move out of ma 'n pa's house of course) and get to finally put into practice all of the things that I have been learning about. Bitter in the sense that this life is leaving me and there is nothing that I can do to change that. Even going to grad school right now wouldn't change anything because I would be leaving behind this wonderful community of people whom I have relied upon for the past 4 years. We've grown together, suffered together, cried together, and gone on vacations together. Saying goodbye is definitely going to be difficult, but I rejoice in the fact that I have all of these memories with some of the most incredible people ever. Like staying up until 4am on a regular basis my freshman year just to chat, last minute camping trips and weekend vacations, watching Las Tontas con la Naty, and suffering through Senior Seminar with the best support group ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y8G5jYSI/AAAAAAAAACo/Im08wQlUzXk/s1600/IMG000116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y8G5jYSI/AAAAAAAAACo/Im08wQlUzXk/s200/IMG000116.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115893574295842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everybody that I've come into contact with has helped to shape my life and I hope to never forget them. May the Lord bless everyone's paths as we approach the cliff of graduation and jump into the unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Yf0YE9EI/AAAAAAAAACA/Mb9Ci4C15NA/s1600/IMG000129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Yf0YE9EI/AAAAAAAAACA/Mb9Ci4C15NA/s200/IMG000129.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115407565714498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Catch you on the flipside!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YfviBZYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ccnVtF-Z52s/s1600/IMG000139.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98YfviBZYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ccnVtF-Z52s/s200/IMG000139.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115406265247106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-5639190670546970473?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5639190670546970473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/05/end-of-world-as-i-know-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/5639190670546970473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/5639190670546970473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2010/05/end-of-world-as-i-know-it.html' title='The end of the world as I know it'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S98Y8v0TIHI/AAAAAAAAACw/YizYvQVWN5E/s72-c/IMG000104.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-6693391821709769999</id><published>2009-10-02T11:35:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T15:16:57.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Reminders</title><content type='html'>I was reading my little devotional book before lunch yesterday and I found it really applicable to my life. The book is called &lt;em&gt;Jesus Calling&lt;/em&gt; and it is by Sarah Young. It is written like little monologues from God for us. I always get a lot out of the little readings, but yesterday's was especially insightful and I though I would share. Here is what it said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Never take for granted My intimate nearness. Marvel at the wonder of My continual Presence with you. Even the most ardent human lover cannot be with you always. Nor can another person know the intimacies of your heart, mind, and spirit. &lt;em&gt;I know everything about you--even to the number of hairs on your head. &lt;/em&gt;You don't need to work at reavealing yourself to Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Many people spend a lifetime or a small fortune searching for someone who understands them. Yet I am freely available to all who call upon my name, who open their hearts to receive Me as Savior. This simple act of faith is the beginning of a lifelong love story. I, the Lover of your soul, understand you perfectly and love you eternally."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you want to look into this some more, the reference verses/verses that go along with the text were Luke 12:7, John 1:12, and Romans 10:13. Enjoy and have a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some interesting things I've learned about Spain (sorry I haven't done this in a while!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spanish is a pretty formal(/cheesy) language when you directly translate things, and this is a point of humor for some of my friends and I. For example, when identifying yourself on the phone or at the door you say what is basically the equivalence of, "It is I, &lt;&lt;u&gt;insert your name here&gt;.&lt;/u&gt;" Also, when you first meet someone, instead of saying "It's nice to meet you" like any good American, we say, "Enchanted". I think it would be fun to bring that one back to the states but I think if you pulled that, everyone would think you were a creeper.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Although sometimes Spaniards don't understand our sarcasm (Americans are actually &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; sarcastic, we love irony), they are all about exaggerating things. One day last week when our Spanish Literature Professor was describing our exam, she told us we would be given 3 options for essays and we could select two and "abandon" the other. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-6693391821709769999?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/6693391821709769999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/10/little-reminders.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/6693391821709769999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/6693391821709769999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/10/little-reminders.html' title='Little Reminders'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-4059207635925590981</id><published>2009-09-30T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T15:01:37.362-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate running, so I ran a 10K in Spain.</title><content type='html'>Yeah, you read that right. I ran a 10K. Okay, really it was more like a 10.5K which is somewhere around 6 miles. And granted, I didn't run the &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; time, but I did finish it and I certainly wasn't the last person to finish, either. So, yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a group of us "very serious" runners pre-race:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386526443998938482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SsDJQwPOBXI/AAAAAAAAABI/vsvbviICLRk/s320/10527_518560140731_157000247_30849101_1860112_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is pre-race at the Carrera Nocturnal Guadalquivir...with about 15,000 other people waiting for the race to start. I'm serious...I really did participate in this race. It was kind of a big deal, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386526452882912034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SsDJRRVUsyI/AAAAAAAAABQ/PTeqp0FDnkw/s320/10527_518560200611_157000247_30849113_1668054_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, so this is how the story goes...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our school had a sign up for this totally free race that takes place at night and goes along the river that runs through the city. They block off tons of busy streets because there are tons of runners and every body starts by this waterpark called Isla Mágica (which I've heard isn't really magical) and ends up in the Estadio Olympico in Sevilla. Like I was saying, this is a pretty big deal. Well, I didn't actually sign up for it because for the 3 weeks before I was thinking, that would be fun, but running and I get along worse than the sun and I get along, and the sun and I don't get along well at all. Whereas the sun and I have a love-hate relationship where I love it, but it hates me, running and I have a mutual disregard for each other. And so far, we've both been pretty happy just avoiding each other, let me tell you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, even though running and I severely dislike each other, I was being bombarded with people who kept asking me if I was going to run in the race (since it was free and they gave you free t-shirts and goodie bags at the end) and they all began to plant seeds of doubt in my mind. Afterall, I though, it would be cool to say that I ran in a 10K in Spain. None of my friends back home could say that and that could be another cool accomplishment that I could add to my list here. So for days I kept going back and forth between doing it and not doing it, completely unable to decide (as always), but leaning towards not doing it because my last few experiences with running always ended with me feeling like I needed to puke my guts out after an embarassingly short amount of time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Somehow, a bunch of the girls (mainly Heather) talked me into it by saying that they can't really run either, so the idea was to fast walk/power walk as much of the race as possible. Well power walking is one thing that I can do, so I figured, heck, why not! Granted I never signed up, but I could still participate, right? Right!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And that's how I ended up going to the race in the first place: completely unprepared. I hadn't run any distance in a long time, and although I walk tons everyday to get to class, go home, and go out with my friends, running and walking are definitely not equivalent. &lt;strong&gt;Definitely.&lt;/strong&gt; So race day rolled around and I finally told myself, "Self, you're going to do this, and it's going to be a lot of fun. Get excited!" And I was excited. That morning at school when everybody asked me for the 10th time if I was going I told them yes and we all made plans to meet at a bus stop at one of the big plazas and take a bus where the race was going to start. We went home and ate our lunches with our señoras (we had pasta--bad idea!), spent the rest of the day not doing homework or studying for our tests that were coming up, and either ate an early supper (8 o'clock is early for supper) or didn't really eat much of a supper at all (we eat at 10 o'clock at my house...and that's when the race started), and finally met up at 9 to head out to the race.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we arrived, we were immediately surprised by the mass of people that was crowding around. Our group of 20 or so Americans tried to stick together some, but there were tons of people for as far as the eye could see and then farther beyond that too. After waiting for nearly 1/2 an hour for the race to start, it did with a bang and we all shoved our way into the road where we joined our fellow runners. My friend Heather and I decided we were sticking together through thick or thin because a) we knew running that far alone would be super boring for us and it would probably make it even less fun than it was already going to be, b) she was keeping my inhaler in her bag, and c) we figured it would be a good idea to have a teammate in case anything happened and one of us couldn't communicate with emergency personnel. Hey, even though you pronounce "asthma" and "inhaler" similarly in English and Spanish, it's possible that in freaking out you wouldn't actually get those words out. We were prepared, let me tell you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So we began. And we jogged with the masses. And we were cut off by people. And we had people wipe sweaty arms on us as they passed. And we cheered for camera men who were filming. And we power walked. And we had old ladies passing us. And we were encouraged by all the people cheering on the sides of the road. And we had cars honking their horns for us. And we jogged some more. And we passed some people. And we never saw the end of the runners. And we finally finished the race. After going through all of the ups and downs of the race including dealing with bleeding blisters and shin splints, Heather and I finally finished, got our goodie bags (they gave me one even though I didn't have a number) and reunited with our group. Yay! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By the time we all left the stadium busses weren't running and we were going to have to walk the hour and half to get home. Our reaction: O_O YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! By that time we were completely dead and our legs didn't really function anymore. Well, one of the student ministries directors at the school told us if we followed her (instead of walking the direction towards our barrios (neighborhoods)) we had a chance of finding a cab that (for a kind of high price since it was so late) could take us to our homes. We chanced it with the cab, unlike most of our group, and about 10 minutes after splitting up we were greated with taxi heaven. I was so happy to be in a cab. &lt;em&gt;So happy! &lt;/em&gt;So instead of arriving at home at 2 like everyone else in our group, my tired worn out body crawled into my cama at 1 after taking a few tylenol. Laying down has also never felt so good in my whole life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And now here I am today. I'm still a little sore, although today was much better since I could actually walk down stairs for the first time since Friday without having to hold onto both the rail and the wall. I don't think I'll be running another race soon. This is definitely my first and last race....at least for a while. Maybe in a few years when I have again given up on running someone else will convince me to give it another try. I draw the line at 10Ks though. There is no way I'm even going near a marathon!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-4059207635925590981?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/4059207635925590981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-hate-running-so-i-ran-10k-in-spain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/4059207635925590981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/4059207635925590981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-hate-running-so-i-ran-10k-in-spain.html' title='I hate running, so I ran a 10K in Spain.'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SsDJQwPOBXI/AAAAAAAAABI/vsvbviICLRk/s72-c/10527_518560140731_157000247_30849101_1860112_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-4393247319456079986</id><published>2009-09-12T16:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T07:39:47.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus Station Adventures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SqzncR7DfFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/MdeMFOE7z9k/s1600-h/Cordoba+174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380930127834348626" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SqzncR7DfFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/MdeMFOE7z9k/s320/Cordoba+174.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was a day of some firsts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first time at the Plaza de Armas Bus Station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first time buying a ticket for and riding a public bus (think greyhound) for a substantial period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first time actually swimming in the Atlantic Ocean (and on the other side of the world, no less).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, my day wouldn't have been complete without also having met my first Spanish creeper. Very fulfilling, I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so here is the long version of the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few of the girls had invited me to go to the beach and I definitely wanted to hit a beach before it got too cold. I mean, swimming in the Atlantic on the &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; side of the ocean?! Sure! So we met this morning at the big bus station about 3 kilometers or so from our apartment. We bought our bus tickets and just missed the 10 o'clock bus that they didn't really tell us about, so we went down to the bus waiting area to get in line for the 11 o'clock bus. As we were waiting, a couple of girls and I decided we would sit down on the edge of the floor near where the busses park because what few benches that there were in the area were completely full. Well, out of nowhere this Rico Suave looking guy (think epitome of Spanish creeper: mostly unbuttoned shirt, lots of cologne, wearing a rosary around his neck) approches us. We thought he was going to tell us that we couldn't sit there, but when we asked he just started chatting with us and sat down between me and my friend Danielle. The rest of our group was staring from across the other side of the waiting area and laughing and when Javi (that was his name) wasn't looking at one of us, we would look back at them and make faces that said, more or less, "OH MY GOSH, what do we do?!?!?!". Well, eventually we got up because a bus was coming to park where we were sitting (thank goodness!) and, as he was waiting for another bus on the other side of the station, he left us after that. I told Danielle that I would never forget her because of that moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we had to wait for our bus. Well, the thing about busses in Spain (and perhaps all of Europe or everywhere, I wouldn't know) is that the concept of line doesn't really exist when there are no specified queues. So we all stood in a line for 20 0r 30 minutes or so in front of what we thought was our bus. Then, a group of about 20 or 30 people just moved to an adjacent spot that had no bus. We had no idea what was going on, and then we realized that the bus that we were in line for was not going to Matalascañas. So we tried to move to the other line too, but by that point the whole area was a relative moshpit of prospective bus passengers trying to get onto that bus. Miraculously two from our group were able to squeeze through, but the rest of us were left to wait for another bus that they were going to bring because there were so many people. I guess they don't keep track of how many tickets they sell either because I'm pretty sure everybody who was waiting couldn't fit on two buses either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we finally made it to the beach in Matalascañas and it was a wonderful day. The water was perfect and the breeze created a welcome break from the sweltering days in Sevilla. I did get sunburned a bit, mostly on my legs, but I expect that in a day or two I will be fine and slightly tan. Yay! Also, I finally got rid of my t-shirt sleeve lines that I've had all summer. Too bad it's almost fall! And the end of the day was perfect too. We walked to the bus stop in Matalascañas, prepared to enter another battle with the crazies in order to return, but instead we happened to make friends with a wonderful lady who had gotten there first and kept everyone in line and told them just exactly how this whole bus business was going to go down. She was fierce, I don't think she would have taken any crap from anybody. And she told the bus driver how everything was going to go down too. Spaniards are great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/Sqznc-mQERI/AAAAAAAAABA/IRWweafzwOM/s1600-h/Cordoba+181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380930139826688274" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/Sqznc-mQERI/AAAAAAAAABA/IRWweafzwOM/s320/Cordoba+181.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-4393247319456079986?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/4393247319456079986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/09/bus-station-adventures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/4393247319456079986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/4393247319456079986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/09/bus-station-adventures.html' title='Bus Station Adventures'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SqzncR7DfFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/MdeMFOE7z9k/s72-c/Cordoba+174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-6363530571872449079</id><published>2009-09-10T12:25:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T14:17:59.048-05:00</updated><title type='text'>¡Saludos desde Sevilla!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SqlDISs7WYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/w4wnN361gWA/s1600-h/Spain+049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379905039609059714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SqlDISs7WYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/w4wnN361gWA/s320/Spain+049.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's &lt;em&gt;Greetings from Seville! &lt;/em&gt;for all of you &lt;em&gt;guiris &lt;/em&gt;(foreigners)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have successfully made it to Seville, Spain, my home for the next 3 1/2 months. Weird. VERY weird. I can already tell that this trip is going to shape me and mold me and I have only been here for one week! In all honesty, I don't know if I can describe all of the emotions that are pulsing through me, even now. It is a crazy mixture of feeling at home and completely comfortable while at the same time feeling like I am in an entirely different world with intracacies that I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams. I guess it really feels like this is a home that I never new existed while at the same time being an completely foreign place, and somehow that makes sense to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we even left O'Hare I had begun to try to prepare myself for what awaited me at the end of our 8 hour flight to Madrid and then after we arrived in Sevilla. I knew from talking to other people who had been overseas and those who had studied with this program that many things were going to be very different and that I'd just have to jump in and be gung-ho about them in order to really appreciate all of it. In order to do that, I have had to pretty much throw all of my concepts of "normal" out the window and just start from scratch. So far that has worked pretty well...not having expectations means that everything is better than you imagined. That isn't to say that sometimes it isn't difficult to do things that you've always done a certain way differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to put up another blog soon that is more anecdotal, but for now this will have to suffice. Here is some pertinent info that explains more of what's going on right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;We did begin classes on Monday and I love them all and all of the&lt;br /&gt;professors are fabulous. My host family is also fabulous (we have our señora and two other señoras (her good friends whom she just moved in with literally one week before we arrived). But that isn't all of the people in our house. I have two roommies (both of whom I go to school with at JBU) and there are two German students who will be living with us for the next month or so. One of their friends might also join us by the end of the week because her current living situation is subpar. So in a few days&lt;br /&gt;we may become a casita of 9 women. It's bound to be interesting! For&lt;br /&gt;now at least we have tons of fun and our apartment is very large&lt;br /&gt;and sufficiently accomodates all of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, to end (and I think I'm going to start doing this at the end of all of my blogs), I would like to share a few of the things that are noticibly different here that I am having to adjust to: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;No going barefoot. EVER. Unless you are in your bed or in the bath, there is no reason for you to not be wearing some kind of footwear be in regular shoes, flip flops, &lt;em&gt;or &lt;/em&gt;zapatillas (slippers).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On time doesn't really exist. Stuff just happens when it's going to happen and people don't ever show up early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Meal times. We eat lunch between 2 or 3 and I don't think we've eaten supper before 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Living in a city. Sevilla is a bustling city (not huge, but decently sized) and I live on one of the busy streets. It's normal to hear trash trucks coming around at 1am and sirens and horns at all hours of the day or night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The heat. It's super hot, at least this time of year, and at least this year. People keep telling us that this is uncommon, but it's been steadily warm since we've arrived. Today was the first cloudy day and the high was about 90 degrees Fahrenheit. We rejoiced. And since most buildings/stores/homes don't have airconditioning, you make do with what you've got: changing out of your nice clothes as soon as you get home for siesta, and abanicos (old-school Spanish fans)....I'm definitely going to have to buy one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-6363530571872449079?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/6363530571872449079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/09/saludos-desde-sevilla.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/6363530571872449079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/6363530571872449079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/09/saludos-desde-sevilla.html' title='¡Saludos desde Sevilla!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/SqlDISs7WYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/w4wnN361gWA/s72-c/Spain+049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-7819883221078393474</id><published>2009-08-29T17:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T18:00:52.894-05:00</updated><title type='text'>T - 3 days</title><content type='html'>So it's kind of starting to hit me...this whole dream where I go live on another continent for nearly 4 months is completely real. Weird. Very weird. It didn't really set in until the past week or so when I started stocking up on basic toiletries (deodorant, anyone?), trying to figure how I'm going to talk myself out of packing 5 suitcases of "things that I'll probably wish that I had", and saying my goodbyes to people. Most of all, it's the goodbyes that made it real. I hate goodbyes. I always get teary-eyed and emotional. Even when I'm super excited about what's happening and it's an inconvenient or embarassing time for my eyes to well up, Niagara Falls somehow gets connected to my tear ducts. It's kind of amazing really. Maybe the Discovery Channel should look into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, like all great things, this last summer vacation of (potentially) my life must come to a glorious end. Life is changing a lot for me and a lot of my friends right now and it will change even more by the time May 2010 rolls around. So for now I'm left with farewells, I'll talk to you soons, and the great abyss of the unknown that I'm about to walk into. Only a few things are for sure: this abyss is, indeed, great; God will be right there with me every step of the way, and He, indeed, is great; and the next 4 months are going to be AWESOME!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, I'm a little nervous about this whole business and I would greatly appreciate any and all prayers in regards to it. However, I'm not freaking out too much, which I think is a pretty good feat for me. The real reason for this is probably because I have absolutely no idea what to expect and so have no idea what I should be freaking out about, but it works for me regardless. Plus I just found 5 cherries in my cherry limeade today, and that HAS to be a good sign, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off to tackle a pile of laundry and try to stuff 4 months of prescription meds into my carry-on. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-7819883221078393474?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/7819883221078393474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/08/t-3-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/7819883221078393474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/7819883221078393474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/08/t-3-days.html' title='T - 3 days'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093187436522117683.post-1358047460855806554</id><published>2009-08-14T19:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T19:57:38.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to my blog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Greetings all! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My real reason for creating this blog is, I will admit, a little selfish. &lt;em&gt;However, &lt;/em&gt;I do think that overall, this will be pretty useful, even if only on the short-term scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see I am going to be studying in Spain this fall. Granted, most of you are overly familiar with this fact, but for the one or two people who weren't already aware: yes, I will be living and taking classes in Spain for 3 1/2 months. Now, let's be honest, while I'm in Spain, I'm not exactly sure just how much I will be able to get on the internet. Plus, my communication skills are probably mediocre at best. So I figured, why not create a blog that everyone who is intereseted can check on and see sort of what is happening in my life? This way everyone at home (as in the United States, and abroad if you are Austin....okay, really just my friends and family, wherever you are, who would like to know what I'm up to) can keep tabs on me while I go galavanting around the world, and I won't have to plant myself in front of a computer or glue myself to a telephone in order to do it. Sound good? Fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, without further ado, I welcome you to my blog. Comment if you please (actually, I'd most likely rather enjoy it), and check back later for updates. And, if you would really like to, go ahead and email me or see if I'm on skype. Because I really do want to talk to you and hear what's going on in your life; I'm just afraid I won't be able to keep you all updated on mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4093187436522117683-1358047460855806554?l=thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1358047460855806554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/08/welcome-to-my-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/1358047460855806554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4093187436522117683/posts/default/1358047460855806554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thiscrazylifebelongstome.blogspot.com/2009/08/welcome-to-my-blog.html' title='Welcome to my blog!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03896908374539802492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__oOoXinRfFU/S9YoLPdEE4I/AAAAAAAAABY/2j2mOFUmY4I/S220/2010+Spring+085crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
