tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-321283282024-03-07T13:32:37.646-08:00nerdgirlsspace - live in the sunshine ... swim the sea ... drink the wild air…Just my little corner of the web to put down my thoughts, feelings, rants and questions... hope you enjoy!KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.comBlogger202125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-35407362172366278772007-10-01T13:47:00.000-07:002007-10-01T13:52:45.524-07:00moved ...<span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Please join me at my new location.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Click </span><a href="http://nerdgirlsspace.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;">HERE</span></a> </span><span style="font-size:85%;">to access my new site...</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-10784252782413183222007-09-28T11:30:00.000-07:002007-09-28T12:23:38.709-07:00blades<div>My mom and I sat on the bench lacing up. I thought of how lucky I am to share this passion with my mom. Something special that we can do together.<br /><br />The zamboni turned into its garage and the gates opened.<br /><br />"Come on mom, lets go. It's time."<br /><br />We step down on the ice. It is like we have been there all along. Never stopped.<br /><br />The sound.<br /><br />I cannot find the keystrokes, alphabet order, words to describe the sound of my blades on the ice.<br /><br />The ice is clean, there are only about five other people here. We start gliding a little faster. Mom looks comfortable. Steady. Happy. I say "mom, can I go?" She nods and I am off.<br /><br />My legs push, the picks launch me off and I am stroking around the ice. My ears are so cold they hurt and my legs feel a familiar burn. I can hear my blades. I wish I could describe the sound. I turn around, backwards crossovers, I can still do this. I can do this. Mom says try a jump. I do. Down I go. Sliding on my hip across the ice. Oh, no. I can do this and I find myself in the air with my arms and legs wrapped properly around my body into a graceful landing. It is a single. But it is a jump. I did it. Big smiles. Heart pounding. I feel such a freedom out here.<br /><br />Try a spin. I cant. I get dizzy now. I try and try. Nope, that I cannot do. Not with any grace.<br /><br />Mom says "You used to a beautiful Ina Bauer." </div><br /><div></div><span style="color:#3333ff;">This is a pic of what an Ina Bauer looks like:</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115337682540720946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2X4gRAg5aqHIAtOC_ne_y-r-MKkl9ZiK3LbNjxfl31-RYuyhW-D-W9MTDQoLRjIacLxoW7xe-BjU_6IHo8GOBMzb0G1dT67t0IZCF8nSVVQor61uhAKzO39NtqPVTtWnJ2idy3Q/s400/ina+bauer.jpg" border="0" />"Ha, ha, mom, nice try, as if my body can twist like that now."<br /><br />I feel challenged suddenly. Ok, I start skating - faster and faster - I go to the corner and cut diagonally across the ice - I twist my legs and feet in position and lean my head back. I do one. I hold it the length of the ice. I feel graceful. I feel like the teenager that was a skater way back then.<br /><br />For the full forty minutes we were on that ice the ping pong mess of thoughts that have been ravaging my brain for months ceased.<br /><br />My head felt peace.KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-39637940178807981982007-09-15T22:14:00.000-07:002007-09-15T23:13:33.925-07:00animal therapy<div align="center">As you know I am spending some time out at my mom and stepfather's place again this weekend. When I came home from there last weekend I spent far too many days at home hermitting myself again.<br /><br />Mom had an idea for the perfect quiet, peaceful outing for today.<br /><br />My mom picked up my sister and we drove out to my Auntie Carole and Uncle Ellis' house in Abbotsford. My mom and sister chatted in the front seat on the drive and I sat in the back and read a little and looked at the scenery.<br /><br />These are some pics of the paradise Carole and Ellis call 'home' ... and some pics of their very special 'animal family'.<br /><br />View from the front door:<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXI7s8qw138saHfyDaZwYNm404PREz6YQvLUBCOjcZOADQznYNmzArpFAZgokWDRs9aVUcSFSejXKzpHWGSqkmJtvGtHz4Bh_vvXL1lrni7FkPgxytb6epeU27_XN49UwkjgD1Yg/s1600-h/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110668734182677330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXI7s8qw138saHfyDaZwYNm404PREz6YQvLUBCOjcZOADQznYNmzArpFAZgokWDRs9aVUcSFSejXKzpHWGSqkmJtvGtHz4Bh_vvXL1lrni7FkPgxytb6epeU27_XN49UwkjgD1Yg/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+004.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>This one of their many kitty cats :<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGErgGjnP5wYplcILAJJQJDsIgXPONK7D3bhoZGMOnpbNdF8bnzIfNjdIiiQspu4_pJFntlg-oA-dHnAKFlj_6ADe_u6ygiVxSGEWkWf7jWgMTs5tpm85mRAYiOLCc9ex1MgunDQ/s1600-h/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+010.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110668738477644658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGErgGjnP5wYplcILAJJQJDsIgXPONK7D3bhoZGMOnpbNdF8bnzIfNjdIiiQspu4_pJFntlg-oA-dHnAKFlj_6ADe_u6ygiVxSGEWkWf7jWgMTs5tpm85mRAYiOLCc9ex1MgunDQ/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+010.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>Auntie Carole's horse CeeCee:<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_EH4N0Q2RePcwvPJ_jLQgHbB4oGpHjk2Br1waXK0C9ZrY7Wq7sE58I2lnfl5gZ4I9Peoj725hotwiupLch-xMvpWVhZS-BT6zoZ2u64-SmGbxujEQJYVgtUnhrlAA_DeAAFw-EQ/s1600-h/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110668742772611970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_EH4N0Q2RePcwvPJ_jLQgHbB4oGpHjk2Br1waXK0C9ZrY7Wq7sE58I2lnfl5gZ4I9Peoj725hotwiupLch-xMvpWVhZS-BT6zoZ2u64-SmGbxujEQJYVgtUnhrlAA_DeAAFw-EQ/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+012.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>This is Oreo. Poor little Oreo is sick and not long for this world but oh,<br />so very loving. Are these not the kindest eyes?: <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQtp7Xl3xEatZV2M-ZKmq4cskC8rQpfLDP08feQAz2Pa210rTepC07oyuN5Y7tiHyv0bzhdkJZH4FXaNSFLfedZbAu_JsIbNm-a9XVVpq-dz3sh-MmkxkNjVdnTLchI4sAjR9uA/s1600-h/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110667617491180290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQtp7Xl3xEatZV2M-ZKmq4cskC8rQpfLDP08feQAz2Pa210rTepC07oyuN5Y7tiHyv0bzhdkJZH4FXaNSFLfedZbAu_JsIbNm-a9XVVpq-dz3sh-MmkxkNjVdnTLchI4sAjR9uA/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+009.JPG" border="0" /></a> The backyard ... a beautiful little private lake:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGjv0JgIzItLH1MiNxL9zsnqmLT9wH69xYHeSxvjKfxP3nWOw7A9O92eUO3m-EcUNRPd-2JpCpnTVNpXzMJOVmf2v9MQsasdo-r2EdefPL4EJJ46iYsjj8-JTJB8ujboDj7b-og/s1600-h/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110667621786147602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGjv0JgIzItLH1MiNxL9zsnqmLT9wH69xYHeSxvjKfxP3nWOw7A9O92eUO3m-EcUNRPd-2JpCpnTVNpXzMJOVmf2v9MQsasdo-r2EdefPL4EJJ46iYsjj8-JTJB8ujboDj7b-og/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+005.JPG" border="0" /></a> One of the many gorgeous flowers on the property:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110667613196212978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRqRMXiMSEb0Z-YAqOaKArIJVwvho2eX6EZvum_prosfO6xbDgmEQqWOZZWrPw5pxVPNMEfENkXlTJSlMBoyoB5JC0-v3WPhUCeXqy_o3Ld9WpwksWTJhcj2Y7sCa4gwCCAfLeQ/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+001.JPG" border="0" />Another one of CeeCee:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipP4wOsNgc6bmBjb3IaYwLhnaOAte71GcZwnAon7Hkv0m0FQ0NYPJwjNdfZW8_i2YwswyVICWa4gd7HO3WTSS7eiISMDGT2127PX3TYVwVQWE6_cM2_iGnP2UubO0Qi_FuDuKmpg/s1600-h/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+036.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110667630376082210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipP4wOsNgc6bmBjb3IaYwLhnaOAte71GcZwnAon7Hkv0m0FQ0NYPJwjNdfZW8_i2YwswyVICWa4gd7HO3WTSS7eiISMDGT2127PX3TYVwVQWE6_cM2_iGnP2UubO0Qi_FuDuKmpg/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+036.JPG" border="0" /></a>And yes, that is me on CeeCee below.</p><p>I would show you more pictures of CeeCee (I took about fifty of them!) but the remainder of the pictures have my aunt, sister or mom in them and my family is a little shy ... so I am going to respect that and not post their pics on here.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110668734182677346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEukxFiJK0C60F-sOyJ835T4pgf1oudzo3KRiijVlZBroOmuXtF-UO9XV5G-9SN31avsiGaAETAQQvo2GNqBufzg7ysszK_PLrTtOq5Y_sqZ5t7A5Q2lGE2C_eoY2ZqbPTezpYA/s400/Batch+one+September+15,+2007+042.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center">Anyways, after spending the day with my family and after a cuddle with one of the cats, some love from the dogs, a little ride on the horse and some really nice time with my wonderful Aunt, I am feeling a little better today.</p><p align="center">Good idea mom. Thank you for suggesting it and thanks Mandy (my sis) for coming along. One last thank you to my Auntie Carole for the ride, sharing the love of your animals, your knowledge and positive nature.</p><p align="center">I love you all to pieces.</p>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-13167583159185731632007-09-12T11:12:00.000-07:002007-09-12T11:49:03.539-07:00... please be quiet continued ...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_W3k0vzytefsa2M69thT3x5rEVmQLn2hhW426J1j0jK007Cth9L6IrZwi2-RoChSY15_-v-OgacSrRGEMEcBZ21S_sl6X_qf1_Wh9Ng7J4kdB5owaWUdPPZLKxiLDcJxjJegU8Q/s1600-h/017.JPG"></a>On Sunday morning, bright and early, Chico showed up at my mom's house to take me home. Knowing me as he does - knowing what would make me feel peaceful - knowing what I would need - on the way home we visited the ocean.<br /><br />Here are the pictures taken that day at Belcarra Park.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCa6du2GLUMq-gQ1BIWXWFyR7T9yluPmXgQHLTkcFNRpACpO7q8vAK0xPmoJMcs76L0_a9Utc24oHfwJPPZD_zUy7jGo6P0rOON5K0BjBb75l970uyTYCnyLB0mC2TUO2aTt4uw/s1600-h/005.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdez5vCePeoAlA0cFXhS2MsaslZ6hi53rJLQx9ZBjmTjQbxOrxG9BRvNYokUxprDrr_UymXUopF_s5JdvuvdxymhLumEz3DkLDSCMYm1bXawDgKBw1thdh9LcEDUxEIgWIzgDcw/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109384062219803234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdez5vCePeoAlA0cFXhS2MsaslZ6hi53rJLQx9ZBjmTjQbxOrxG9BRvNYokUxprDrr_UymXUopF_s5JdvuvdxymhLumEz3DkLDSCMYm1bXawDgKBw1thdh9LcEDUxEIgWIzgDcw/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0kf1Ndg7sxSoXrGtg54PYtHHv4lxlQ3qa6zjOXf8_wOQ8q9wLWMti2027ZBLEiy68-xci1wt_4X6aSlrssGVdldmvtm8ckQQS48m2LxrJ3JxDMckdQ0Y9vTKnRYbBnHmR0mU6Q/s1600-h/008.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109384066514770546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0kf1Ndg7sxSoXrGtg54PYtHHv4lxlQ3qa6zjOXf8_wOQ8q9wLWMti2027ZBLEiy68-xci1wt_4X6aSlrssGVdldmvtm8ckQQS48m2LxrJ3JxDMckdQ0Y9vTKnRYbBnHmR0mU6Q/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzxglu7oEnvHpvxesVMohRqiNUE3V-hSzRu316Oz_OsPndUbThxu9YjUZXr9CJ_sPbqhjwZqjdfjJ1VKGn6GfBV6u8EndEdGV0VvQNn353wl96ceYm6Pix_ejNGPnEo-7JzGytg/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109384070809737858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzxglu7oEnvHpvxesVMohRqiNUE3V-hSzRu316Oz_OsPndUbThxu9YjUZXr9CJ_sPbqhjwZqjdfjJ1VKGn6GfBV6u8EndEdGV0VvQNn353wl96ceYm6Pix_ejNGPnEo-7JzGytg/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4lfN8TQIshV-EULgdV5OZIrjWn0DroomH6qrXHSUF-v6Cps4W39W6KKHV2YVyKCyJmTyDciFwbkIu7p7CHVdT4LPCKYSwn2EXaqJFfuHvxj2PQXTz47rjcZ0Cvm6DEeSF-YScQ/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109384070809737874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4lfN8TQIshV-EULgdV5OZIrjWn0DroomH6qrXHSUF-v6Cps4W39W6KKHV2YVyKCyJmTyDciFwbkIu7p7CHVdT4LPCKYSwn2EXaqJFfuHvxj2PQXTz47rjcZ0Cvm6DEeSF-YScQ/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEmcgBC-TW7q7333jPu9PXRJ8N_gxe7H1Vki88UonjAPSAvUGdgnccO3y_pQqd_ynSiLPL12UzdTnXEyj81M8f28lXy5H0uvE3Deormxid4s7nnTWxENtfB8qKQvVtmg7XIQfhw/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109383581183465986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEmcgBC-TW7q7333jPu9PXRJ8N_gxe7H1Vki88UonjAPSAvUGdgnccO3y_pQqd_ynSiLPL12UzdTnXEyj81M8f28lXy5H0uvE3Deormxid4s7nnTWxENtfB8qKQvVtmg7XIQfhw/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM9lC5Po-gDXj5KAB3o8CvH5vdYjRA6hGiSm41rBpOMqvcSRf1aHN9AmJqU_ZY4TTRElZHhKesdF_NYF7hBje_ZGZl7Id7riohzw4VMoGV8cRPncMKn_LB9ApGu2FfjM2hzd2F5w/s1600-h/014.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109383585478433298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM9lC5Po-gDXj5KAB3o8CvH5vdYjRA6hGiSm41rBpOMqvcSRf1aHN9AmJqU_ZY4TTRElZHhKesdF_NYF7hBje_ZGZl7Id7riohzw4VMoGV8cRPncMKn_LB9ApGu2FfjM2hzd2F5w/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZXFcEaIU5eEAhLKWpjxDI75ifs24v8Esg4tk5J1ePKyqEA0GCWzphtpRcgGI8NonQMQLFpNisfuCGV7F1NoK44QAoAmZN9yMYFpM0CV1YedZ20M9sQ4pLStDYpv6maYgJtVtEw/s1600-h/013.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109383589773400610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZXFcEaIU5eEAhLKWpjxDI75ifs24v8Esg4tk5J1ePKyqEA0GCWzphtpRcgGI8NonQMQLFpNisfuCGV7F1NoK44QAoAmZN9yMYFpM0CV1YedZ20M9sQ4pLStDYpv6maYgJtVtEw/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /></a> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidN0Q3I7CMhC0lzBbKTatSfTuoSYMb4opXHbjw_NvXLEwu1DXQaNqNS5IN1u7q1kCSulTFVZqXFIHocpOFC_662syMuVcwxbwf3iLm1O0LFwraI52vbm5nayOCNwFuU4_z6v8WvQ/s1600-h/011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109383594068367938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidN0Q3I7CMhC0lzBbKTatSfTuoSYMb4opXHbjw_NvXLEwu1DXQaNqNS5IN1u7q1kCSulTFVZqXFIHocpOFC_662syMuVcwxbwf3iLm1O0LFwraI52vbm5nayOCNwFuU4_z6v8WvQ/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /></a>I find myself back home, shutting myself in again.</div><br /><div></div><div>This is doing me no good.</div><div></div><br /><div>My mom is coming to get me again tomorrow. Thanks mom.</div>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-2817276492351930852007-09-11T09:08:00.000-07:002007-09-11T11:54:12.891-07:00please just be quiet ...First of all. Thank you Mom, Keith (my stepfather) and Chico. I know truly that I am loved.<br /><br />Second. It is the anniversary of September 11. This reminds me that there are people in this world going through horrible, devastating events in their lives. I feel for them. I remember that day vividly. I am so very sorry for those families touched by this unbelievable event.<br /><br />***<br /><br />If you have been reading for the last month or so you know that I have been at home, off work, seeing a counsellor once a week, and working through what I can only describe as some sort of breakdown. This is hard for me to write about. But I need to write.<br /><br />I am not myself. I am not the strong woman most of you know (knew?). I do not want to leave the house, I have my phone off and am not answering emails. I do not want to talk. If you are talking softly to me or around me, I am listening though.<br /><br />Other than going to the doctor or the counsellor I have not left the house much. On some level I recognize that hermitting myself is probably making things worse, but I cannot seem to help myself. When I am at home alone, the thought of seeing people, having to interract, talk, socialize or be around the loudness that is our city makes me anxious.<br /><br />I discussed this with my counsellor we felt that some exercise and fresh air might help. I asked Chico to take me on a hike. On September 2 we ended up at Lynn Canyon with a backpack filled with healthy food and a plan to take some pictures and sweat a little.<br /><br />We get there and the parking lot is full. I am in the passenger seat wanting to beg him to turn around, I do not want to see all these people. There are mothers yelling at their children, children screeching, and the loud voices of males trying to get some attention from nearby females.<br /><br />"It's ok, Kell, lets go."<br /><br />We get out of the car, open the trunk, get the camera and backpack and make our way up to the up to the little suspension bridge. The people around us are so loud. I can sense Chico watching me. I recognize that he is trying to understand how hard this is for me and how much the noise is bothering me.<br /><br />We make our way across the bridge and start on the trail. It is beautiful here.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108982163509764242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTyEmxVYScXjLS5es4kMLZRkU8AbQgcoV9NZss9kYdxzas2wF6OCnv6l6gHMisOEG5y4VzHIdTlPLR-s0XMA1CwmcFybPy5OpLM_VH9CoKBhct1JIYYXp2xDAprlYsRUl0_spLMw/s400/DSCF0505.JPG" border="0" /> ... If everyone would just shhh ... why the need for loud voices? Would it really be so terrible to be silent for a few minutes and take in the beauty of our world?</p><p>We hit the trail, work up a bit of a sweat. As we head back down Chico suggests going off the trail, down below where there are no tourists. Brilliant! Here I found the silence and beauty I was looking for. We ate lunch and took pictures.</p><br />It was paradise and exactly what I was looking for. Thank you Chico.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108983056862961826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjfOdW5Ci4If-uaclLPx5Ugy6Fjf_ZddxfHLccfW_atkvHvaWuK64oFyA3uZ3Y6YTjTQqZDom1K_tN2mtEAcZqZkYA8-OF7caOIZbxnL_80SkEZhVoPLgM2RuQJro_GvzxHTgKA/s400/DSCF0513.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108983722582892722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJNPbUmCr-o4EDJa_-X2N5igK_50rCaoz6rh9JyxTiYCAw2tlII3AjdJ9mt1Cc9NQakEip4aV4lj4ury6RszMDjwRSd4WjglrNtFj53ZpTpKPIGTjRZZuxD0x-qZ9plRSO5oXBQ/s400/DSCF0506.JPG" border="0" />***</p><p>Later in the week, after spending a few days at home alone avoiding people I asked my mom to come with me to my Dr. appt on Friday. I wanted to be alone, I did not want to see people but knew if I made a plan with my mom she would get me out and about.<br /><br />By Thursday, I hit a new low, a low that I do not feel comfortable describing here. I was feeling not right. I emailed my mom and asked her to take me home with her after the Dr. appointment on Friday.<br /><br />My mom did not hesitate. She came to the house Friday morning, saw me struggling to pack a bag, and listened as I spilled everything that was going on in my head to her. I had a good cry. My mom is not used to this, I have generally been self-sufficient as an adult and do not 'run' home everytime something happens to me. My mom was amazing. She listened. She was supportive and positive and non-judgmental. She helped me pack. She went to the Dr. with me and took me home with her. It was exactly what I needed. Her home is beautiful and quiet. She had a room downstairs for me to use with its own t.v., bathroom, and quiet space.</p><p>Also at my mom's is my little baby Lady:</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108985071202623682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1k9z_MPMD2eabJIiVx52_ZwxrJhta1s0dJTMiJWXjxUNGAldGEOA9P0mGGkw27jYvEZERTXsFCWjupg7YI_xzSk2-Du1s-CqyCjMVc1W0IG9jOXDA5N90-Tb9zuLWDwfXFtHHow/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>Lady did not leave my side the entire weekend. She slept downstairs with me. She followed me everywhere. When I woke up for two hours at 3 a.m., she woke with me and put her head on my arm while I read. She would get up early, jump off the bed, run upstairs and wake up Keith to go for her morning walk. The minute she came back in the door and the leash was off, she would run back downstairs and hop back in bed with me.</p><p>I miss her now. I wish I could have my own dog where I am, I think it would do wonders for me. I think it is exactly what I need. She was just there. All the time. Silent and loving. Can you please get me my own baby to have at home?</p><p>The weekend was peaceful. My mom said my sister was worried about me and had her and my stepbrother for dinner on Friday night. While barbecuing my mom and sister and I sat on her balcony, flanked by the forest in the back, talking quietly. In the evening, Mom and I would sit in the den and watch the news. Keith would bring her a glass a wine, me a waterbottle and he would make us a snack of Breton crackers with cream cheese and red pepper jelly. We just sat together and watched the news. It was nice to be with people but to be able to just sit in silence if I wanted to.</p><p>On Sunday morning Chico came early in the morning to get me but I will try and write about that tomorrow. I also have some pictures to share.</p><p>Thank you again Mom and Keith. I am at home now and know that I will be heading back there soon.</p>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-49202270424409082892007-08-31T08:40:00.000-07:002007-08-31T18:05:08.267-07:00my insomnia reached a whole new level of hell last night ...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLfw3FglGWn3SWpOzle9nv5-UBk-HaQxalgL4T5p4kbZ2cx0-QJgWNnQ7sWZopcA6kxlqVlI9bP6qK-N8eQyVhJ4wtL65-PuTKbxKFNdXwbC-z2gJqDZTUBk-8dfG6Y20gi4t6w/s1600-h/loft+wall.jpg"></a>I did not sleep last night.<br /><br />Not for more than 45 minutes at a time anyways.<br /><br />I tossed and turned and dreamt crazy, disturbing things.<br /><br />To make matters worse - actually I think it may have put me to sleep for awhile - one I woke up disoriented and on my way back from the bathroom I managed to crack my head on the corner of one of the walls. The one on the right there actually... see that nice wall sticking out by the light switch? Ouch.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105034551693828210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZK-N18Jy8kzh-L5P-6jddsUQJ-rzzAq3VDGk1mRl49QIQDWxFxtvZUcvQ03nZtH1WSY99fwGIQiOC9cn95WnxxbqSMGRbU6APyD3IT1deLu9KeHq-My0Z06fGaHF-SvvCsW3EgA/s400/loft+wall.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I do not even know what I was doing on that side of the room, I sleep on the chimney side ... however, I did learn that you <strong>actually</strong> see stars if you whack your head hard enough! Great. Good to know.<br /><br />Anyways, NOT a good night. Needless to say, I am tired today so just a couple quick things for you.<br /><br />First of all, I found this neat little site where you can write the next sentence of an ongoing story. I did it and thought you fellow blogging, writer friends, readers, fans and family would enjoy adding a sentence too. Just click <a href="http://www.writethenextsentence.com/">here</a>. Just do it. You can say you wrote a book with me. =)<br /><br />Finally, and most importantly, Megan's modelling pictures have finally been sent! My daughter is GORGEOUS. I just had to share a few....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9eBPauGeNkwef60KAR4nXXVdRuDb7FDp5Fx46LacQSWUzb624K2GdYt1iD22QhFlUhFcb0prJ3LPV0SKEvitsnBiCnO1S25yqikLuGS1j9a9NN7lxWFtJaYnnsZNhBbI2eYCRTg/s1600-h/67.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105003297216815138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9eBPauGeNkwef60KAR4nXXVdRuDb7FDp5Fx46LacQSWUzb624K2GdYt1iD22QhFlUhFcb0prJ3LPV0SKEvitsnBiCnO1S25yqikLuGS1j9a9NN7lxWFtJaYnnsZNhBbI2eYCRTg/s400/67.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAJwjIsrN_284M4WDVyNZ9GEkeBWGrYDatx8SgAwIlnN5wRsIPPQwOInQlCmgBJFzmMvDWF2Th5THDtXCu3H2KpGCi7hIM5Y1KqUuZqymPxr3jwFUC8j2yFwPVTXIqPetMfIk8w/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105002537007603650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAJwjIsrN_284M4WDVyNZ9GEkeBWGrYDatx8SgAwIlnN5wRsIPPQwOInQlCmgBJFzmMvDWF2Th5THDtXCu3H2KpGCi7hIM5Y1KqUuZqymPxr3jwFUC8j2yFwPVTXIqPetMfIk8w/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmXkxjqiPcQtSk6gwKUxrmXfQo5PZfkP57Jk6U8dGzGJYCoKIrCTSwX-9UoXzHKRWBmtflX4G1dcP1PfAsODvcpsyHD0itumzso4QFRNlFbDwxe6XbV5veMq6a4NiKrTBR02-gA/s1600-h/3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105003292921847810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmXkxjqiPcQtSk6gwKUxrmXfQo5PZfkP57Jk6U8dGzGJYCoKIrCTSwX-9UoXzHKRWBmtflX4G1dcP1PfAsODvcpsyHD0itumzso4QFRNlFbDwxe6XbV5veMq6a4NiKrTBR02-gA/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUwpKjttMeuksg0zcTco1gWRCVLC9Koop_CyVmbGsxyqVoyL8C4nh6_uG71NgrCph6n_31wktM7G7DY__fUy6iUjDhJv8n-okrAzfFpl2pmV2CwC4h7VD5FCaQ6c3uegXB3lwqA/s1600-h/29.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105003297216815122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUwpKjttMeuksg0zcTco1gWRCVLC9Koop_CyVmbGsxyqVoyL8C4nh6_uG71NgrCph6n_31wktM7G7DY__fUy6iUjDhJv8n-okrAzfFpl2pmV2CwC4h7VD5FCaQ6c3uegXB3lwqA/s400/29.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsNlO_tEGrZY7J624nfUkYo3SOvyyyZKq_oY-g7W-vRsfnQrKrxQsUwWvfBUK_xs44CNFRc0zdK_O99H6TCdpN8Ed8FUa0YTMxKgYCGoZWVkgTXdU4mg0y7vrTkNt3znp1AzZ1w/s1600-h/51.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105003297216815154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsNlO_tEGrZY7J624nfUkYo3SOvyyyZKq_oY-g7W-vRsfnQrKrxQsUwWvfBUK_xs44CNFRc0zdK_O99H6TCdpN8Ed8FUa0YTMxKgYCGoZWVkgTXdU4mg0y7vrTkNt3znp1AzZ1w/s400/51.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoObx52RnVHc7UFHggHKUFrGzkCevYiPnCKeO3UXJlDbnmRw4bwJ6XUYRHwUPdgDCSddPiPtQZmO3ZiQqDwNWVbne5JJULRMgImx78L-gJoz1G77O9cQ1evoPEU6e_6FSQttbYQ/s1600-h/52.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105002541302570994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoObx52RnVHc7UFHggHKUFrGzkCevYiPnCKeO3UXJlDbnmRw4bwJ6XUYRHwUPdgDCSddPiPtQZmO3ZiQqDwNWVbne5JJULRMgImx78L-gJoz1G77O9cQ1evoPEU6e_6FSQttbYQ/s400/52.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGX6A_8n8y6sjK7rY5U44zA7sNjyU6fkH2nKlBFwuqMBZIOIHK7bUgKrwE11FBKzko-Br0YYoyRzNbWmtbo4Fm1dnUun9ReRw4W8FO_8LyEsyfGluFRJb7dwDfqUY_fQIArxXMQ/s1600-h/38.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105002537007603666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGX6A_8n8y6sjK7rY5U44zA7sNjyU6fkH2nKlBFwuqMBZIOIHK7bUgKrwE11FBKzko-Br0YYoyRzNbWmtbo4Fm1dnUun9ReRw4W8FO_8LyEsyfGluFRJb7dwDfqUY_fQIArxXMQ/s400/38.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfue3BjIj6kD7rLnZMTtifgSEMoCNmdTmRnfT5Sd1h9Bu4iopA6ShjrjqaFtvNcTrchpq2oKmJH4MANzBuXCST22ULaWS3GDkvoy4OWa-x_dieYfs1di77TNJMhjt4CTdoNr8AQ/s1600-h/12.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105002541302570978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfue3BjIj6kD7rLnZMTtifgSEMoCNmdTmRnfT5Sd1h9Bu4iopA6ShjrjqaFtvNcTrchpq2oKmJH4MANzBuXCST22ULaWS3GDkvoy4OWa-x_dieYfs1di77TNJMhjt4CTdoNr8AQ/s400/12.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vILtL3IOe5gv0ruFcXQ5irQLRGKXz64nKzCWbVQTOH17yD9E0mErCeqchgnVeoKVzQppGr05PtI8EKolIb5hlph-_jIWR-A_bJWrmBzgH0t-qpymcNEifjHI1IkiHuTWhMDDGQ/s1600-h/54.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105003301511782466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vILtL3IOe5gv0ruFcXQ5irQLRGKXz64nKzCWbVQTOH17yD9E0mErCeqchgnVeoKVzQppGr05PtI8EKolIb5hlph-_jIWR-A_bJWrmBzgH0t-qpymcNEifjHI1IkiHuTWhMDDGQ/s400/54.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGw8Sv3xiLTPKCDx_QmeEbywX8FVM6Z2ZOsDOTcJTrOeGS09qIN82kIQCUr-7MwsrvNJYeSifErMZ3UuXHjeWhUwxso5FXobd17VWU3W81ivH1FE8isbnLGWASk7HxMuRA5EFmXw/s1600-h/32.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105002537007603634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGw8Sv3xiLTPKCDx_QmeEbywX8FVM6Z2ZOsDOTcJTrOeGS09qIN82kIQCUr-7MwsrvNJYeSifErMZ3UuXHjeWhUwxso5FXobd17VWU3W81ivH1FE8isbnLGWASk7HxMuRA5EFmXw/s400/32.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-8805977485829026462007-08-29T13:13:00.000-07:002007-08-29T14:00:16.485-07:00todayToday I need to be kind.<br /><br />I need to be kind to myself.<br /><br />I need to tell myself that my mistakes are ok. That I have learned from them. I need to explain to myself that I have done the best that I can with all that I have been given in all of the circumstances that have been handed to me. I need to forgive myself for letting myself and others down in those moments when I have not been as good or as kind or as proactive as I needed to be.<br /><br />I need to forgive myself for not knowing for sure what to do all of the time. I need to try and forgive myself for not knowing what to do when someone else was counting on me. I need to try and forgive myself for not knowing for sure what to do when someone else really needed me to know for sure what I was doing and make proper decisions. I need to forgive myself for not being brave when I needed to be brave. I need to forgive myself for not standing strong and firm in my beliefs.<br /><br />I need to turn the kindness and empathy I feel for others on myself. I need to use the forgiveness I have had and do have for others - on myself. I would have long ago forgiven others in my life for these mistakes, wrong paths and shortcomings, why have I not forgiven myself?<br /><br />I need to take it easy on my soul. I need to listen to the good things that people say to me and about me. I need to listen to those things and absorb them into my heart.<br /><br />I need to go forward and trust my instincts. I need to go forward and trust that my instincts are leading me in the right direction. I need to trust that what I know and what I have learned in life will lead me to make the right decisions for me and for you. You are counting on me and I need to trust that I can do what needs to be done, and that I have taught you enough to know that you can do for yourself what needs to be done.<br /><br />I need to trust myself to say no. I need to say it more often and know that I am doing it for the right reasons. I need to understand that it is ok to say no. Whenever, to whatever and whomever I need to say it to. I need to practice saying no. I need to learn not to do things for the wrong reasons. I need to learn that maybe in the moment things may feel right or ok, that a decision may feel right or ok in the moment ... but down the road, will this decision affect me, hurt me, harm me in some way?<br /><br />I need to learn to love me as much as I love the people in my life. I need to respect me like I respect my loved ones.<br /><br />I need to go outside and put my face in the sunshine and smile from the inside out.<br /><br />If not today,<br /><br />then tomorrow?<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104222686910766994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80eMH4XOO8kCzrp5kcP_Nwp8q9DBxuKBwL_qUhOOos_fCE2CVid-w8UvjEkNzg0tgTf19ct1N9tRLaMeOJFC0RRCBNe0A-vmaURhsDD48jHpVniCdUSzdOcO1Uiv-UIci2RsFuA/s400/KINDNESS-BIG-PIC.gif" border="0" />KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-43796459923429712192007-08-28T15:58:00.000-07:002007-08-28T16:08:14.876-07:00counselling .2I had another counselling appointment today.<br /><br />I worked really hard. Talked about some tough things. I tried to be logical. I really tried to look at things with a methodical brain instead of a sensitive brain. I am tired. I am going to close my eyes and wish myself off to Fantasy Island for awhile. So if anyone is looking for me, this is where I will be:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103890977996562306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijjWVuvaCbg4yuIVgSxQPFTmuUi5w7e8wghE1N5nrA84eov2ahZl4DPz36Y5FuQZD2wmg3VgYh1ivqZxQ5R0u9iJe4GgJ1cDhTekZtDHkOiMz6Z6UsSALlK-fiPLl4jTSwz56hg/s400/My+Fantasy+Island.jpg" border="0" />KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-12116530902778776992007-08-27T12:56:00.000-07:002007-08-28T15:55:14.715-07:00hermitI am still living the life of a hermit. That is just the way it is right now. My friends have been trying to contact me but I am still feeling like I want to be alone. I have a lot of thinking to do. I dont know why letting everyone back in is so hard right now. I hope it changes soon. Because of this I have not gone far but this weekend was my baby sister's 30th birthday and my mom had a party for her. There were a few old family friends that I do not get to see often so Chico drove me out there to give my sister a gift and to visit for a couple of hours. It was nice to be around familiar people who have loved us for a lifetime. People with their own stories that I can just sit and listen to. Other than that, I haven't gone far. Been on the couch watching the last of the <a href="http://www.hbo.com/rome/">Rome </a>disks. Its done. What series is next? Any ideas blogging friends?<br /><br />Unfortunately with being at home I do not have anything interesting to blog about, but I do have something to share with you - My daughter Megan recently did a modelling shoot for a hairdressing salon. Here is one of the photos. She is to the right of her (boy)friend Jordan.<br /><br />I think they are beautiful.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103474160010420082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlTNuqsGLCkZEUjNvZ04QbiAB79iix98_h_et6At1qmzaVEn-Zx1yUjCwHkZv99zaKFl9cLzTCZfvCCuAPaNYmRHyCjeImmxv6rQvhafc8p67u_9EcZ9aViCpjhPIx1uqkkHu7A/s400/Megan+and+Jordan+modelling+pic.jpg" border="0" />KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-12612961568928079532007-08-26T13:30:00.001-07:002007-08-28T15:51:21.472-07:00actual conversation today - kinda funnyMe (obviously, not serious): "Why are you such an ass*?" =)<br /><br />Him (three guesses who): "I am not a ass*. I am just being me. The fact that society puts me in that category and labels me as an asshole is beyond my control." =)<br /><br />These are the kinda serious conversations we have. Seriously. =) It is fun to have this kind of friend ... =) at least he has a good answer for everything!!<br /><br /><strong><em>asshole</em></strong><br />noun<br />1.<br />insulting terms of address for people who are stupid or irritating or ridiculous<br />2.<br />vulgar slang for anus [syn: <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/arse">arse</a>]KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-46804789797571156702007-08-24T10:56:00.000-07:002007-08-25T11:23:31.555-07:00a feast, a new hbo series, insomnia, water ponds, my nest and some picturesMy goal today: to make an effort to make this post a little lighter than those of late. I am still not feeling quite right and do not want to be around people, especially crowds and noise, and I am not wanting to talk much but I am trying hard to get back to me. I am listening to the world a lot right now. You learn a lot with your mouth closed and your ears open. I am working hard to get back to the regular, happy-go-lucky me. I have some work to do first, but I am getting there. I promise.<br /><br />Chico and I have started a new HBO series. We have been through <a href="http://www.hbo.com/sopranos/">Sopranos</a>, <a href="http://www.hbo.com/sixfeetunder/">Six Feet Under</a>, <a href="http://www.hbo.com/larrydavid/">Curb Your Enthusiasm </a>and <a href="http://www.hbo.com/biglove/">Big Love</a>. We have spent many lost rainy weekends lost in one or the other of these series. I recommend each and everyone one of them. Just mentioning them makes me want to open up discussion on the rich characters in each of them. Not today though, I dont want to lose you on too long of a post!<br /><br />We have now started <a href="http://www.hbo.com/rome/">Rome</a>. We watched the first two episodes of the second season last night. It is not as good as Sopranos or Six Feet but I am enjoying it (warning: a lot of violence though). And after all these years I am learning Chico is more than a pretty face, he knows a whole heck of a lot about the history of Rome. Apparently he listened in history class instead of being distracted by pretty girls and basketball ... so I am lucky enough to get a running commentary of the real goings on in the history of Rome and Caesar in comparison to what they are showing in the HBO series.<br /><br />Lately multi-tasking is not my best skill and therefore cooking dinner lately has been a big no-no. Example: one entire loaf of bread used to make four completely unedible pieces of french toast (Read: I am one big fire-hazard). And <strong>yes!</strong>, I used to be a good cook.<br /><br />Anyways, last night along with the first two episodes of the second season of Rome I was treated to this lovely, finger food feast:<br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102344630856212226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiywvHHrqObjN_rY0ryoLvxVX8VX7uBryUjeVR_wZYmkolEQm2VQMEY8vdAevBtcEM68p7TYNUqGPXT4R1Mnw2XqtHRBjQKFNwykuEufzRsEhlUOucdaO8TzAPfysrQo1OA5xnISw/s400/feast.jpg" border="0" /><br />Yum. Healthy, easy, thoughtful. Thank you.<br /><br />Usually I have to read awhile to fall asleep at night. I read quite a bit anyways, but a few pages of someone else's story before I go to sleep at night really helps to relax me. I have a beautiful bedroom. I live in the attic loft of an old heritage home. My bedroom has been my little haven lately. I thought I would share a couple pictures of my room: </div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102345176317058834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBit_Cgqg-F6b6t1wgmdsazkVjKpTjUBYhyfCYi7m9lY030T9Me_AUsmY003Nm9F7fIaWLrvhB9F7e17KBM2Xr4IxU9HRIijYrFzey4AquuT9UkatIgU9e0Y_3VbHny1Mnsilhag/s400/DSCF0399.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102345369590587170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2y083l00y96uFrY0pot9GLUW7zzDjanpPlZcldZyWOEpCWZDFNpjCg_Ais58eZT9gc9NjMJLxPHb1V9795IfPo1qtJbBHInlQcQfcJJdn-ySNjeW-I6AiKq7Y8gEzoIv-x9Zng/s400/my+bedroom+1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Last night I settled into my little nest and fell asleep instantly.<br /><br />I woke though at 3 a.m. I could not settle. Thoughts of recent weeks, being off work and the most recent conversation with my daughter swirled in my head. I turned on my little reading light and read the remainder of my current read, <a href="http://www.kingsolver.com/bookshelf/prodigal_summer.asp">Prodigal Summer </a>(big recommendation). I finished and put the book down satisfied with the ending. Well worth the read. Unfortunately, my brain was still alive and churning when I put the book down. I lay there, trying to still my body. My hope was that my thoughts would also settle.<br /><br />My landlord designs ponds for a living and my back yard is this amazing little haven with ponds with running water, lily pads, fish and beautiful banana trees. Here is another picture for you: </div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102346529231757106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2mJCSU7yfi18qO8sw41t_4fmvJ8Ogi6C4xd38JaizLkKTB-MGEsFtTInqLLzWIwU9nDimlmWav3HOqbW7qcFaun3I9lJFoAcyQIINpeT59GsBpY6RJbwOLAR3BwuzbdRfa2Zqw/s400/Banana_Tree%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>As I lay there trying to still my body and mind, my bedroom window was open, I could hear the water trickling in the ponds. I turned on my stomach to look out the window and the moon was shining brightly in a clear sky.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>So peaceful.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Still, I could not fall asleep, my legs were itching to move ... I got up, went downstairs, had a glass of water, a couple of tylenol, a couple of gummy bears, checked a few of your blogs (thank you all for your wonderful stories) and finally went upstairs to my nest and eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.</div><div></div><div></div><div><em></em></div><div><em>Finally</em>.</div>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-85092964822409847092007-08-23T11:34:00.000-07:002007-08-24T12:32:25.082-07:00and the award goes to my mom and my best friend ...<strong><em><span style="color:#333333;">Words any girl is happy to hear and lucky enough to receive from her mom</span>:</em></strong><br /><br />Please know that I am here and would be there on a moments notice.<br /><br />Love you Mom<br /><br /><span style="color:#333333;"><em><strong>Simple, to the point, appreciated and noted.<br /><br />Thanks mom</strong></em><br /><br />*******************************</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#333333;">An email exchange:</span></em></strong><br /><br />Re: I stink<br /><br />I guess I had better clean up before you get here. I have been lazy on my couch for days, I cannot remember when I last washed my hair.<br /><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#333333;">Brilliant response:</span></em></strong><br /><br />Re: Re: I stink<br /><br />I won't care ... you once threw up on my feet, did not phase me a bit ...<br /><br /><br /><em><strong><span style="color:#333333;">Now that is the love of a best friend. Almost, just almost enough, to tear me away from the blog reading, soap operas, Ellen and self pity party and go upstairs and use some soap and maybe shampoo. Toothpaste would probably be a good idea too.<br /><br />Almost</span></strong></em>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-7444299276323981992007-08-21T17:53:00.000-07:002007-08-28T15:54:54.588-07:00time off from life ...The sun just came out. It has been rainy and very September-like for the last few days.<br /><br />The sun shining adds to my guilt for just lying here watching Ellen and reading blogs all.day.long.<br /><br />I am in my ugly (but comfy) green jammies with pink elephants and hearts on them, eating crackers with melted cheese and jam (blame my mom for that particular food habit!) and thinking I probably should have a shower at some point today ... It is tempting to post a pic of the particular kind of mess I look like but sorry readers, you are stuck with my usual superhero blog pic.<br /><br />If it helps the visual any ... the front of my hair is pulled back like a Shih Tzu pup and when Chico sees me like this he always asks me to make the face - you know the one - bottom teeth out like the little fugly doggie. =)<br /><br />Well, actually kind of like this:<br /><br /><em><strong>***new note... I was trying to be funny by posting the pic of this dog... not my dog... apparently I'm not funny ... =) I was trying to show you all the state of my hair right now ...***</strong></em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3KmFCZRfogZgoFb6osnUWMPi63gpONh_C2Mz-7CfswN1WjtzI6zNf6x7vkTXgzjDBr3HkA8R4YCeNIfKKiyhyphenhyphenoM6_USd-YaBYr5dnSVhbameCB228f9EKHZmmqJ1HWe-T3fV6TA/s1600-h/Shih+Tzu.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101331800258404082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3KmFCZRfogZgoFb6osnUWMPi63gpONh_C2Mz-7CfswN1WjtzI6zNf6x7vkTXgzjDBr3HkA8R4YCeNIfKKiyhyphenhyphenoM6_USd-YaBYr5dnSVhbameCB228f9EKHZmmqJ1HWe-T3fV6TA/s400/Shih+Tzu.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />With green jammies and cracker crumbs on my shirt.<br /><br />Anyways, I had a gruelling session with my counsellor yesterday. I broke down and cried like a little girl. Apparently for someone who does not feel like talking, I have an awful lot to say. Everything she said made sense, everything all the people that love me makes sense - but for the time being the logical side of my brain that sends my heart normal loving messages is broken and while that is happening, I just want to be home and alone. So today is a "me" day. There has been a lot of those lately and there are going to be a few more in the next few weeks. Whatever it takes.<br /><br />I have realized lately and think I can understand and relate to how a once social person could suddenly become a hermit - If someone gave me a sailboat right now (and I knew how to sail!) - I.would.be.outta.here.all.by.myself. Just.me.and.some.books.<br /><br />In my internet travels today I came across a blog called <a href="http://wendywannabe.blogspot.com/2007/08/vision.html">Wannabe</a>.<br /><br />Her blog caught my eye today because of a quote:<br /><br /><blockquote>Dont borrow someone else's spectacles to view yourself.</blockquote><br />Simon Travaglia<br /><br />The quote struck me because the process of seeing myself through loving eyes again has been a hard fight.<br /><br />I know it will happen.<br /><br />It will just take some time.KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-77040099281406612882007-08-19T11:58:00.000-07:002007-08-19T14:21:18.888-07:00a serious discussion on weight and insanityKelly: "Chico, I think I have lost weight."<br /><br />Chico: "Well ... how much did your marbles weigh?"<br /><br />... that was yesterday and it is still making me chuckle ... =)KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-70929083908814741002007-08-17T14:51:00.000-07:002007-08-28T15:55:51.494-07:00counsellingI am still doing my best to avoid people.<br /><br />The phone is off. The loft door is closed.<br /><br />I haven't gone much farther than my couch in days.<br /><br />On Wednesday I had an appointment with my counsellor. I am seeing a counsellor because my anxiety is unmanageable at the moment and I recognize that I need to talk to someone outside of my family and friends. I am feeling ridiculous and silly and a bunch of other negative things. Unfortunately, the thought of talking, being out and about and running into people raises my anxiety level so getting out the door to visit her office is a chore in itself.<br /><br />What happened to the strong capable woman I was?<br /><br />I walked into the counsellor's office and the first thing I thought was - please just let the receptionist take my money and hand me my receipt and let me sit down quietly.<br /><br />Please do not talk to me.<br /><br />I do not feel like making nice today.<br /><br />My heart is pounding. My hand is a little numb.<br /><br />I felt guilty for those thoughts. She is a nice old lady. Friendly, outgoing, cheery with a "receptionist" personality. I instantly feel like a bitch because I do not want to respond to her inane comments about the weather, Vancouver or how lovely the quotes posted around the reception are. These feelings automatically start my heart pumping and my anxiety goes up - the exact opposite effect I am trying to achieve by seeing a counsellor. It is a strange, foreign feeling to have regular interactions cause such an uproar in my system.<br /><br />The counsellor floats in to tell me she is ready. Everything about her is soothing. Her hair, her skin, the way she speaks, dresses, moves. She is olive. Her skin is olive, her clothing is olive coloured... her walls in her office are an earthy colour. Everything about her seems organic.<br /><br />It is lovely in her inner office. Pillows, water fountain, mood lighting. She sits back in her chair, pillow in her lap and her feet on a stool. Every movement she makes is fluid. One movement seamlessly runs into another. I wonder if she practices this. Does she know this is calming?<br /><br />I sink into the couch and she asks me what I am thinking.<br /><br />"I dont want to talk. I'm sorry."<br /><br />That is all I can think of to say.<br /><br />She asks me to try and tell her something simple about the last week. Events, non-events. Anything I want.<br /><br />I find myself relaying the events of the last few days since my last visit. It is not as if I have nothing to say. It felt as though I was talking about someone else. None of these things happened to me. None of these feelings are going through my heart. I am talking about someone else. I am not emotional like I was last time. Ther are no tears. I am just telling a story.<br /><br />Except my heart is pounding in my ears. I can no longer pretend I am not talking of me. I feel guilty for most of what I am telling her. I have no good reason to be this down, this anxious, this sad. The guilt is a problem. There isn't much these days that doesn't make me feel guilty or inadequate on some level. I am feeling silly, weak. Ridiculous.<br /><br />She notices me twisting my feet and wringing my hands.<br /><br />She suggests a relaxation, breathing exercise.<br /><br />This makes my heart pound.<br /><br />My reaction is visible to her.<br /><br />She says "What do you think?"<br /><br />I tell her the thought of relaxing on cue makes me anxious. I smile weakly and feel embarassed to be telling her something (else) so ridiculous.<br /><br />She asks me to close my eyes.<br /><br />To concentrate on breathing through my nose.<br /><br />She says Kelly - try and clear your thoughts (!)<br /><br />Instantly I panic as fourteen new thoughts pop into my head. None of which are entirely positive.<br /><br />She instructs me to take deeper breaths. From my stomach. To my stomach. Something about my stomach.<br /><br />She tells me to keep trying to clear my mind, my worries, my thoughts, to think about nothing but my breathing.<br /><br />This is not possible.<br /><br />The more I try not to think, the less this seems possible.<br /><br />I think of the voices of the women giggling in the hallway. I wish they would go away. Then I feel bad for thinking that. I seem to be increasingly irritated by other people and noise. The world is so damned loud.<br /><br />There are doorknobs turning, office noises, people talking... I heard none of these things when I came into the office. They were barely audible then. But now that I am to be thinking of nothing - every sound feels like it is directly beside my ear. Like someone turned up my hearing aid a notch or two. None of these sounds feel like they are coming from their real origin, outside the door, down the hall, or outside.<br /><br />She tells me to think of somewhere nice.<br /><br />Somewhere that made me happy.<br /><br />My mind instantly flies to the Cecil with Chico.<br /><br />I think this counselling thing is going to be a slow process if being at the strippers with Chico is the 'happy' thought I go to on command ...<br /><br />Maybe I'm crazier than I thought.<br /><br />Or human?KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-10648896688655124512007-08-08T14:25:00.000-07:002007-08-28T15:56:12.165-07:00shhhh ....The world is a loud place for me right now. Every noise seems to be coming from right inside my head.<br /><br />This post is a difficult one for me to write for several reasons... Two of which are my privacy and that of my loved ones. I have been going back and forth and starting drafts and trying to decide whether or not to write about the past week or two. I have some incredibly personal things that I would like to write about but need to do it in a way where I feel comfortable.<br /><br />Bottom line - I need to write.<br /><br />Last Monday I hit a wall.<br /><br />I think this wall was fast approaching and I was busy pretending that I was somehow going to make it around it. Dodge it somehow. I thought I would keep moving forward and there would always be somewhere for me to run to, squash my fears, my feelings of inadequacy and the pain I carry around with me. But when your brain decides there is a limit, there is not much you can do about it.<br /><br />I have been recognizing for some time now that I am not feeling quite right. I have been through some things. I know what you are thinking - we all have.<br /><br />And yes, we all have.<br /><br />A good portion of you have been through more than I could imagine or bear.<br /><br />For about five years there has been some really tough family issues for me. I cannot and will not write the specifics but I have been forced to make decisions a mother should not have to make. I am not the type of woman who makes these types of decisions without thought or heartache. I agonize over the what ifs, the if onlys and the if I had done it the other ways ...I constantly beat myself up over, and replay events, conversations and decisions in my head. Being a mother is the most important job I could have. I have always felt that I could do all kinds of good in the world and that if I screw up my child's life that it would all be for nothing. I take the duties/job/miracle of being a parent very seriously.<br /><br />Throughout these family issues, no matter what happened the night before, I would get up in the morning, slip on my shoes, plaster the Kelly smile on my face and put one foot in front of the other and just do what had to be done. I knew there were mothers going through worse things and thought to myself that it could be worse. Sometimes it got worse. I worked as usual. I kept up friendships, loves. I lost friendships, I lost loves. I kept doing what I thought to be the right things, going out, reading, volunteering, playing, working, whatever it took to live my life productively. Whatever it took to make myself feel useful and needed. I recognize(d) that everyone has problems, issues (hard issues, life and death issues) and that overall my life is good. I have people around me who love me, a roof over my head and a job that I like. I have a life. And all I have to do is live it.<br /><br />A few weeks ago (maybe longer) I started to see myself differently. My mind was allowing thoughts that were (are) negative and hurtful. I felt and feel vulnerable and anxious. Sleep has been tough. I felt myself wanting to avoid people. I became more and more sensitive to the world around me. I recognized I needed a break, a holiday, some 'me' time. I tried to get that, but something always got in the way. Then some life events happened that were hurtful. The straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. I think it likely my camel's back was already breaking or broken and I was ignoring that fact.<br /><br />Life can be a messy business. That cannot be avoided.<br /><br />Instead of having a good cry and taking a step back and 'handling' things as usual, I started to doubt myself and my place in the world and my place in the lives of the people I care about. I had always been able to look at myself in the mirror and be proud of the person staring back at me ...<br /><br />Then the doubts set in further and events chipped away at me when I was already feeling weak.<br /><br />I was not feeling right and I knew it. I stopped liking the person I saw staring back at me from the mirror.<br /><br />I reached out. I really did. I tried to explain that I am hurt and sad and not feeling right. I tried to say, to tell you (and you) that I was no longer hearing positive messages, that I was falling.<br /><br />Then an odd thing happened. The people that I chose to turn to, the ones that I thought I had loved and nurtured were not there when I needed them. I do not know if they did not understand how far it had gone, or if the way I was asking was not pretty. Maybe they were just used to me being strong? That is about when the bottom of the wall flew up and hit me. I was done.<br /><br />To not go into any further personal detail and to shorten this up a bit I will tell you where I am at now.<br /><br />I am off work, likely until next Tuesday. I have learned who my real friends are.<br /><br />I love you dearly for driving here and not leaving until I let you in. I love you for not taking no for an answer. I love you for just being quiet with me and not making me feel silly for falling. You are my anchor. I thank you for that.<br /><br />I have learned just how important my family is and how they will always be there for you, even when they are facing their own scary things.<br /><br />I hope that writing this helps just one of you out there that may have been reaching a limit of your own.<br /><br />Listen to your head and to your heart.<br /><br />Look after yourself.<br /><br />Take the breaks that you need.<br /><br />Have a tantrum (safe one) if you need to.<br /><br />Talk to your friends and family before you fall.<br /><br />And dont judge yourself too harshly.<br /><br />You are human.KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-31762917896962906282007-08-04T10:56:00.000-07:002007-08-04T11:07:13.030-07:00day one of pride downGot home just before five!<br /><br />Am so tired.<br /><br />Am feeling a little blue.<br /><br />A lot blue.<br /><br />Tried to dance it out of my skin last night.<br /><br />Tried to run it out of my skin last night.<br /><br />Sat at the ocean at 4:00 in the morning to get some perspective.<br /><br />Did.not.work.<br /><br />Something happened yesterday morning when I got home from camping that I was just not expecting.<br /><br />Why is it when you are all happy and content you get blindsided by reality? My little heart is just so sensitive.<br /><br />I am hurting.<br /><br />Thankfully as we speak, my beautiful little brazilian friend Sam is packing a bag. She is going to hold my hand, sleep in my loft and celebrate the beautiful women of Vancouver with me this weekend.<br /><br />Sam, my little band aid.<br /><br />Thank god for friends.KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-22061885372996650972007-08-03T18:52:00.000-07:002007-08-03T19:03:53.148-07:00im backHey everyone. I'm back from holidays!<br /><br />What a riot!<br /><br />Had a little kick in the ass this morning so I am smarting a little ... but it is Pride Weekend in Vancouver and I am going to get all prettied up and go out and party with my friends. I am thinking that losing myself in all the beautiful women of Vancouver should soothe my poor little bum!<br /><br />I promise to write about my adventures away when I get a chance!<br /><br />Thanks for all your comments while I was gone.<br /><br />I.FEEL.LOVED. Thanks guys!KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-83615385531216693752007-07-29T06:55:00.000-07:002007-07-29T07:17:24.453-07:00censored<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">I need some advice blogging friends.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">I've ruined my blog.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">It doesn't look like I have, but I have.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">I find myself censoring, deleting, editing and rewriting my posts when I do not want to be. I almost wish some days my blog was anonymous so that I could write openly about my feelings. That was to be the whole point of this thing to start with! I have toyed around with the idea of starting another one to just <strong>write</strong>...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">The problem is that I write what I feel in any given moment. I may not feel that very same thing five minutes later but the post remains there until I write about something else.... and because I am not using this as a true journal you do not get updates, I just write about the next random thing that pops into my head.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">For example:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><a href="http://recoveringstraightgirl.com/"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">Recovering Straight Girl</span></strong></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"> writes (or seems to) candidly about her relationship with her girlfriend, her thoughts on her ex, and the trials and tribulations of being a mother, ex-wife and a woman in a same-sex relationship/marriage. From reading her blog I can see that her friends, family and her girlfriend read it daily. Why does she feel so comfortable expressing her feelings?<br /> </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">Better question - why am I such a wimp about it? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">Anyways, fellow blogging friends, tell me ... are you censoring yourself? I honestly want to know your thoughts and feelings on this whole thing. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">Love you all.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">I'm off now to Ucluelet. Well ... I will be when sexy.girl drags her cute butt out of bed!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">Kisses,</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">NerdGirl</span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-54962536915772528852007-07-27T10:39:00.001-07:002007-07-27T12:03:12.451-07:00i cant fucking sleep<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">For starters, I seem to be avoiding my bedroom.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Which is stupid. I have a lovely bedroom.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I live in a little attic apartment of an old heritage home. My bedroom is a loft. It is quite cozy with its slanted walls and the charming brick chimney (that I really wish a flatscreen was hanging from). I can hear the ponds in my backyard from my bedroom window. Here is a picture of the ponds and a little plug for my landlord's business. As you can see my backyard is beautiful!</span><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091953098828443570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1E-u5_JplPyBvFP8E95AO70cdSfjUbmGuYdoSKFsqFy6ZxhKmlJ47s_Id3g3oEaRGMvGjTtODilyaGgkibJUPORVLmmRYAzM-5fMkkGmW4S1ZzcA0Jh6Fpja6J55ntDxyTDOoiA/s400/Cambie-Water-Gardens-Title.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Lately, instead of climbing up the little wooden stairs to my haven, I lay on my couch at night and toss and turn and think.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I am <em>exhausted</em>.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">The things I think about in the middle of the night have no relation at all to my thoughts or worries during the day.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">When I get up, walk across the bridge in the morning, visit the ocean and look at the beautiful Vancouver skyline I kick myself for allowing those worries to even enter my head and ruin a good night's sleep.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Because really. Life is good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Last night I went out with my friend Jen. We went for a walk in our neighbourhood, had a beer at the Five Point (the boys from my house had the same idea too!) caught up and had a great evening. Lots of laughs. No worries. Right?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I get home, feeling tired and ready for sleep.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I plop down on the couch.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">In my comfiest summer p.j.s (ha, liar, I was naked!)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I close my eyes and suddenly,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I am AWAKE.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Wide awake.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">No amount of <em>anything</em> could have put me to sleep (read whatever you want into <em>that</em> comment).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Today - I am a walking zombie. Again.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I am looking forward to my little vacation ... what better way to fall asleep than outdoors after playing in the sunshine all day?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Well, actually, I can think of a couple of ways ...</span></p>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-12260057409085655632007-07-26T16:32:00.000-07:002007-08-29T16:06:13.312-07:00I wish I could take credit for this<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">No matter how you choose to define it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It is you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">For you:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#990000;">If I were a cinnamon peeler<br />I would ride your bed<br />and leave the yellow bark dust<br />on your pillow.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#990000;"><br />Your breasts and shoulders would reek<br />you could never walk through markets<br />without the profession of my fingers<br />floating over you.<br /><br />The blind would stumble<br />certain of whom they approached<br />though you might bathe<br />under rain gutters, monsoon.<br /><br />Here on the upper thigh<br />at this smooth pasture<br />neighbor to your hair<br />or the crease<br />that cuts your back.<br /><br />This ankle.<br /><br />You will be known among strangers<br />as the cinnamon peeler's wife.<br /><br />I could hardly glance at you before marriage<br />never touch you -- your keen nosed mother,<br />your rough brothers.<br /><br />I buried my hands<br />in saffron, disguised them<br />over smoking tar,<br />helped the honey gatherers...<br /><br />When we swam once<br />I touched you in water<br />and our bodies remained free,<br />you could hold me and be blind of smell.<br /><br />You climbed the bank and said<br />this is how you touch other women<br />the grasscutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.<br /><br />And you searched your arms<br />for the missing perfume.<br />and knew<br />what good is it<br />to be the lime burner's daughter<br />left with no trace<br />as if not spoken to in an act of love<br />as if wounded without the pleasure of scar.<br /><br />You touched<br />your belly to my hands<br />in the dry air and said<br />I am the cinnamonpeeler's wife.<br /><br />Smell me.</span><a href="http://www.hollyriddeldesigns.com/"></a><br /><br /></span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-92105945367014446882007-07-26T11:35:00.000-07:002007-07-26T15:15:51.555-07:00Tofino and a Simpsons movie!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">As you know <a href="http://nerdgirlsspace.blogspot.com/2007/07/tofino.html"><span style="color:#000000;"><strong><em>this</em></strong></span></a> is my big holiday this year!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Update: </span><br /><br /><ol><li><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">We are going to stay an extra night!</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> Yippee!</span></li><li><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Staying in Ucluelet (can't wait to try and say that drunk!) instead of Tofino. Two nights there and one night at a friend of a friend of a friend's house. Here's a lovely pic of the beach in Ucluelet:</span> </li></ol><br /><p align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091580115278524290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UPex8YaakXjTA0_S7PtP0jlKr0qZsezP35Hn_0gavLS5-axJTzfETd4m9jAi5OG3K08lIsvqDKe_icGh8wLwMUt2Ck_5IN7JpOhdI1HUWkRdJXKmMVlFWRtQNfL9HXtermQvEw/s400/ucluelet.jpg" border="0" /></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Questions and Answer section:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">The answer to your question - my wonderful friends with the "hungry for information, enquiring minds want to know attitude" ...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Your big email question of the day yesterday seems to be - "<strong>who is the sexy girl???"</strong> ...</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">... I am thrilled you are all so excited about my love life, really I am.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">And thanks for asking privately, not via blog ...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">... But sorry to disappoint ... and be ever-so-boring ... (did you really think I'd write about it anyways??? )</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">... but the '"sexy girl" is a <strong>friend</strong> who happens to be <strong>sexy</strong>. =)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I am guilty of sensationalizing for the sake of the 'blog'. Geez, do you have to call me on EVERYTHING? =)</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><em>Anyways</em>, moving on ... apparently we are going to try surfing! I see stitches in my future! =) Ouch! Good thing there is a plastic surgeon in the family now!</span><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091580385861463954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xC4AxW8uss42w8jDITXoXlxJ3kONZwKWeZFxi_hF21L3ZdxIvo752RCZg4mHyRmIQ48FWwQRwFyHt_A5U7RRcvd0haiW9au3sANj7-s3nIsXerC4DRCf6o4Hg1DexM1pzfW5LA/s400/stitches.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">About the third night - last night (actually once before too) I met the woman we are staying with on the third night. She plays hockey on "sexy girl's" hockey team - <strong>and</strong> - to be completely honest - she scares me a little ... <strong><em>actually</em></strong> the thought of "sexy girl" and her wreaking havoc (sp?) on the shores of Van. Isle. have me MORE than a little nervous, hee hee!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I have a feeling it will be an adventurous couple of days for little old KellyNerd. Yikes! Bring on the healing qualities of gin! =)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">AND on a COMPLETELY different subject ... as if camping was not enough ... The Simpson's Movie is coming out this weekend! I am so excited to see it. I am excited for <strong>YOU</strong> (yes, you) to see it too, I know you've waited a long time for it!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFomaUJpqqzw4YcSFzLoY6WOpvZkQfKMBURuBuLzqfvLqw8aHuZO8iDowmnOE4OenMErnGu0m9Qu7EuHUxI1c59qix9NgBJMiwcc2hOHV19NqOPuztX_LCmgp5NADguuPgPE0VDw/s1600-h/Simpsons.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091578796723564402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFomaUJpqqzw4YcSFzLoY6WOpvZkQfKMBURuBuLzqfvLqw8aHuZO8iDowmnOE4OenMErnGu0m9Qu7EuHUxI1c59qix9NgBJMiwcc2hOHV19NqOPuztX_LCmgp5NADguuPgPE0VDw/s400/Simpsons.jpg" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-65358398106032213622007-07-25T09:07:00.000-07:002007-07-25T11:53:13.462-07:00T.O.F.I.N.O.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">So.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Guess where I am going?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Here!:</span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span></p><br /><p></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCTatSOcimkSg2pB9wZHKzjnNv9swMREKhrvuvDMfyR80-RTdrzHuTz48jyfOErjq4v6X_EXqlBN_1O1IdMTKMRb7s0nVth0WNKQs_tddrFr0OVis7gyYHhxeFd0qmiZyfs00BcA/s1600-h/Tofino.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091209330751860578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCTatSOcimkSg2pB9wZHKzjnNv9swMREKhrvuvDMfyR80-RTdrzHuTz48jyfOErjq4v6X_EXqlBN_1O1IdMTKMRb7s0nVth0WNKQs_tddrFr0OVis7gyYHhxeFd0qmiZyfs00BcA/s400/Tofino.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Camping.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">In a tent.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">With a girl.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">A <em>sexy</em> girl.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Yippee!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">We are leaving Sunday morning. Coming home Tuesday night.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">The countdown begins.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Four more sleeps!</span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-47974841129262981502007-07-24T16:12:00.000-07:002007-07-25T09:13:36.962-07:00random thoughts on nothing today<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">mean people suck</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><br />I used to have this bumper sticker on my car. The last vehicle I owned actually - I dont drive anymore. I had a great little Volkswagen Cabriolet convertible. It was fire engine red. I loved it. It looked just like this:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24USKTLpmSV_XcjrtR5ZfliLqMvqyZ2rxkMVIKYOAUCfgfi1odrxwV3uT7ntpUke1muCCC4n83bIb4PEjJ3pArNvWtMHJhE023Awo81mqGlN5EQYVGle6DnCDIga8_ljguYdi8Q/s1600-h/cabriolet.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090906883449843538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24USKTLpmSV_XcjrtR5ZfliLqMvqyZ2rxkMVIKYOAUCfgfi1odrxwV3uT7ntpUke1muCCC4n83bIb4PEjJ3pArNvWtMHJhE023Awo81mqGlN5EQYVGle6DnCDIga8_ljguYdi8Q/s400/cabriolet.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My daughter and I used to get bundled up in the middle of winter, grab some hot chocolate, throw a blanket over our laps, turn up the music, crank the heat on our feet and just DRIVE. *sigh* feeling a little nostalgic at the moment...give me a second ...<br /><br />Ok, so:<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">mean people suck ...<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">... when I see this corny little statement on someone's backpack, car, tshirt I feel <em>hope</em> for us silly humans.<br /><br />What exactly is being mean? Cruel?<br /><br />Cruel - dictionary dot com says:<br />1. willfully or knowingly causing pain or distress to others.<br />2. enjoying the pain or distress of others.<br />3. causing or marked by great pain or distress.<br />4. rigid; stern; strict; unrelentingly severe.<br /><br />I think we have all touched "meaness" or "cruelty" whether it be on the receiving end or the giving end. I think, and hope that most people do not intend to be mean. It seems to me that cruelty and selfishness go hand in hand. They seem to in many instances anyways...<br /><br />selfishness dictionary dot com says:<br />1. devoted to or caring for oneself; concerned primarily with one’s own interests, benefits, welfare, etc.<br />2. characterized by or manifesting concern or care only for oneself: selfish motives.<br /><br />We are all selfish sometimes. It is human nature. I suppose sometimes you have to be a little selfish to get you through this life. But I think the ignorant ‘me-first’ attitude of narrow self-interest, pretending that no one gets hurt by your words and actions is a dangerous way to live.<br /><br />Hm, seems to be all I have to say on the subject. I don’t know where I was going with this…<br /><br />... I guess I just want to thank people in my life for being selfless rather than selfish and for being caring rather than cruel and for being there throughout my life.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I hope you feel you get that in return.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">You deserve it.<br /><br />Ha. And you thought I was going somewhere else with this, didn't you??</span><br /><br /></span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32128328.post-77534232616289013302007-07-23T13:42:00.000-07:002007-07-25T09:13:55.101-07:00silence<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#663333;">I am feeling quiet right now. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#663333;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1zIC-lJ2tQ4O_WQu6i7dAs15rCxsW7mjCXHaf41C-2RiJWpvZ6_9scZsa82OeSGEQr5-gIQJ20wVJ-6iAtdDkw_aJDGbshn7esxYwfTMGMR6zBlQpbCZSfjWWANDWqH-Oqh1eA/s1600-h/quiet.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090495816424910642" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1zIC-lJ2tQ4O_WQu6i7dAs15rCxsW7mjCXHaf41C-2RiJWpvZ6_9scZsa82OeSGEQr5-gIQJ20wVJ-6iAtdDkw_aJDGbshn7esxYwfTMGMR6zBlQpbCZSfjWWANDWqH-Oqh1eA/s400/quiet.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#663333;">Really quiet.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#663333;">It is amazing the things you learn about people and situations when you just sit back and listen.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#663333;">Listening is hard to do. Real listening, when you actually hear...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#663333;">But I am learning (again) that sometimes the mouth is better left shut and some things are better left unsaid.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#663333;">This silence has also allowed me to appreciate the value of the loved ones in my life that I can sit with in silence and feel like I am being heard louder than if I had raised my voice and screamed my every thought and feeling at the top of my lungs.</span>KellyNerdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12739781265203446014noreply@blogger.com3