<?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-7414240832700387312</id><updated>2012-02-10T17:30:26.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking In Her Shoes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>116</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-640916669294238584</id><published>2012-02-09T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T11:55:35.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Write It</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;When I first began writing my fantasy, I knew that it was ordained. I felt an urgency to it. Only a few days after writing the first chapter, I had three supernatural confirmations.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;As I write, picture flood my heart and mind. I can't just write the plot. I am forced to etch ideas on notebooks because philosophies will&amp;nbsp;interrupt&amp;nbsp;a scene. The characters and&amp;nbsp;situations&amp;nbsp;make me reflect on my life and how I view God and human nature. It is a soul-searching experience and will continue to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I continue to receive confirmations that this story needs to be written. I sat in my Fantasy Novel Writing class today. We were discussing an essay by Tolkien called "On Fairy Stories". He was alluding to concepts that no one had ever taught me. However, I had already planted these&amp;nbsp;conceptions&amp;nbsp;into my writing. It was magical and mystifying. I have read some fantasy, so I am not completely ignorant of the genre. However, I&amp;nbsp;unconsciously&amp;nbsp;created the proper representation of the art without ever being trained.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;It has been a spiritual experience more than anything. God gives me a picture that seems rather odd and illusive. I describe the image and suddenly a conflict or situation is built around that image. I experience&amp;nbsp;exhilaration. It feel "perilous" at times, as Tolkien stated in his essay. As a "sub-creator", you never know what will occur next. The unknown feels dangerous, but very intoxicating in the same breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am frustrated often. I will write pages of boring, lame, stolen, and&amp;nbsp;familiar story. Fantasy is a powerful genre, but it is&amp;nbsp;strenuous. If you do it wrong, you do it terrible! However, the moments when I feel the elation of "atmosphere" or "otherworldlyness", it is a writer's chocolate. You rest in the hope that your reader will sink into the page and&amp;nbsp;experience the same joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am not deluded. I don't expect to walk in the footsteps of C.S. Lewis or Tolkien. However, I am satisfied that God and I are partnering to write an imaginative story of adventure, love, and fantasy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-640916669294238584?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/640916669294238584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2012/02/write-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/640916669294238584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/640916669294238584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2012/02/write-it.html' title='Write It'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6996609606279413754</id><published>2012-01-16T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T22:27:25.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More than a Dream Come True</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ahEQENBcodI/TxTsFqMCYRI/AAAAAAAAA-w/WwbtBfQKUBA/s1600/wwnbs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ahEQENBcodI/TxTsFqMCYRI/AAAAAAAAA-w/WwbtBfQKUBA/s400/wwnbs.jpg" width="256" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I started an obsession about 7 years ago. I started watching World War 1 and World War 2 movies and documentaries. I&amp;nbsp;specifically studied the holocaust. I don't think&amp;nbsp;many understood why I would investigate such a dark time in history. Some of my friends found it endearing, but they never fully embraced my interest. Most of the movies were rated R due to violence and nudity. If these films were true to the events, they were tragic and horrifying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Here are some of my favorites:&lt;em&gt; The Pianist&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Boy with the Striped Pajamas&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Fateless&lt;/em&gt;, and &lt;em&gt;Life is Beautiful&lt;/em&gt;. I will mention &lt;em&gt;Imaginary Witness&lt;/em&gt; because it was an interesting documentary. It explored how the holocaust has been portrayed in film.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Now to the part of the blog when I consider crying...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;As I studied these holocaust actors and actresses, a longing grew in me. How would I portray the loss, the ache, the horror, or the faint hope...if I got the chance?&amp;nbsp;Would I ever have the privilege of retelling such a story? The answer arrived: yes. I now have the play, &lt;i&gt;We Will Not Be Silent.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This&amp;nbsp;play is more than a "dream come true". That phrase fails to describe this&amp;nbsp;experience. It MUST be a calling. When I stand on&amp;nbsp;the stage and recite the lines, I know I am embodying who God created me to be. I believe God created these lines for me. I will only have this script for a moment, but for this moment,&amp;nbsp;these lines are mine. The message originated with the White Rose, but God granted me the privilege to shout their message&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;My friends, Rachel and Danny, came to watch one of the productions. I knew they would love the material. I met with Rachel in the foyer after the show. Tears were streaming down her face and she was trying to gain her composure. Danny and Rachel understand. The message is not something I am simply performing. It is something I actually prepare to live. I plan to die for my message. I plan to end injustice by confronting those who cause it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I know these moments on the stage are simply preparation.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Our cast will perform We Will Not Be Silent for Chapel, which means most of the Taylor student body will see it. I pray they walk away with a respect for conviction and gain more power of voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6996609606279413754?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6996609606279413754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2012/01/getting-serious.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6996609606279413754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6996609606279413754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2012/01/getting-serious.html' title='More than a Dream Come True'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ahEQENBcodI/TxTsFqMCYRI/AAAAAAAAA-w/WwbtBfQKUBA/s72-c/wwnbs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5990732085384584613</id><published>2012-01-16T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T15:18:38.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember How Cool This Is?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Someone posted this on Facebook. I enjoyed it and wanted to keep it tucked away on my blog, so I could return to it time and time again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/d9NF2edxy-M" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5990732085384584613?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5990732085384584613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2012/01/remember-how-cool-this-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5990732085384584613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5990732085384584613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2012/01/remember-how-cool-this-is.html' title='Remember How Cool This Is?'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/d9NF2edxy-M/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6641646009396367479</id><published>2011-12-22T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T16:41:44.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sis's Battle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I cried last night. My younger sister was diagnosed with cancer. She will be going into surgery after Christmas.&amp;nbsp;After surgery, she will&amp;nbsp;start chemotherapy. She isn't in the states, so it is harder on me. I want to hold her hand. I want to be there when she is in pain. I spoke with her over the phone yesterday night. She sounded optimistic, but I know this can't be easy on her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;We need to wait till after the surgery to find out the seriousness of the situation. The doctors aren't certain, but they are saying the cancer is stage 3. They won't know more until after the surgery. I need your prayers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;My little sis is full of life. She is my joy! I will fight with her, but it will be a difficult road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6641646009396367479?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6641646009396367479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-siss-battle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6641646009396367479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6641646009396367479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-siss-battle.html' title='My Sis&apos;s Battle'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3282003290839262010</id><published>2011-11-30T08:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T08:15:34.652-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain-Involuntary Reaction</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Mental illness has taught me one thing: most everyoneelevates the brain above all other vital organs. We know the heart causes bloodto pump, which is vital for life. However, we wouldn’t call our heart amurderer when it stopped working. However, if the brain miscalculates asituation or perceives something wrong, we blame it on ourselves. I think thebrain is more involuntary than voluntary. I am no scientist, but the brain isnot our savior. It will fail us and we can’t rely on our intellect or wisdom tosave us in any form. Our brain will, at times, lie to us. We can’t will it tofunction perfectly, just like we can’t tell our heart to pump.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I wonder if there are any current studies about involuntaryvs. voluntary brain function. Hmmm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&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/7414240832700387312-3282003290839262010?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3282003290839262010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/11/brain-involuntary-reaction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3282003290839262010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3282003290839262010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/11/brain-involuntary-reaction.html' title='Brain-Involuntary Reaction'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3166202155980931431</id><published>2011-11-29T13:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T14:01:39.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter and sNOw.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AGjJPAySrjI/TtVWGLyP1II/AAAAAAAAA-Y/z41HcWaip58/s1600/1129111637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AGjJPAySrjI/TtVWGLyP1II/AAAAAAAAA-Y/z41HcWaip58/s320/1129111637.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well it is now snowing...still. We are suppose to get three inches. I ran to the store before the nasty stuff covered the roads. I am crippled during this weather; however, I am making an effort to remain joyful. Even while performing in A Christmas Carol Musical, I crindged when the fake snow fell. It is just cold and messy. I don't see the point. I consider it a judgement on the earth. Okay too extreme...but still true. HAHAHAHA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3166202155980931431?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3166202155980931431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/11/winter-and-snow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3166202155980931431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3166202155980931431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/11/winter-and-snow.html' title='Winter and sNOw.'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AGjJPAySrjI/TtVWGLyP1II/AAAAAAAAA-Y/z41HcWaip58/s72-c/1129111637.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1523970759160727236</id><published>2011-10-06T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T05:00:46.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Greatest Pursuit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Au9PeIH2D4Y" width="420"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I will be performing in &lt;em&gt;We Will Not Be Silent: The Story of the White Rose&lt;/em&gt; written by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.williamgebby.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Willam Gebby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;. I have a hopeful expectation for the performances on Oct 14 and 15. The message of The White Rose resonates in my heart, and I know it will resonate in the hearts of others as well. If you are interested in attending, you can get information at this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.taylor.edu/campus-life/news-events/events/homecoming/homecoming-2011-fine-arts-events.shtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;LINK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I have committed myself to honoring The White Rose's memory.&amp;nbsp;Not only in&amp;nbsp;my performance, but also by living a life of fierce convictions.I am attracted to these students and love to endlessly research their cause.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I have never acted in a play where the characters are based on real people. It is surreal, especially because these students died for their awe inspiring words. These German citizens protested the Nazi regime and denounced Hitler.&amp;nbsp;Their message has&amp;nbsp;caught my affections, and I am humbled to tell their story on stage. There were such devastating stories of loss and death during Hitler's tirade, but within this struggle,&amp;nbsp;The White Rose's voice gained victory through their enduring message and unyielding faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This play is my greatest accomplishment. I am serious. To this day, I can't compare it with any other venture. It is elevated above all of my other pursuits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.whiterosesociety.org/WRS_pamphlets_home.html"&gt;READ SOME OF THEIR LEAFLETS AT THIS WEBSITE!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&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/7414240832700387312-1523970759160727236?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1523970759160727236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-greatest-pursuit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1523970759160727236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1523970759160727236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-greatest-pursuit.html' title='My Greatest Pursuit'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Au9PeIH2D4Y/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6516084261531713543</id><published>2011-09-22T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T19:36:12.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UE vs TU</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hmBP5qdWeHI" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I will now&amp;nbsp;compare the University of Evansville to Taylor University, as it relates to my experience. I attended UE in 1999 and withdrew late in the spring semester. Even after my withdrawal (which was due to an illness) I was convinced that UE was my perfect fit. I attempted to reapply, but it never came about. Looking back, that college was not the perfect fit, not even close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;My UE professors told me to avoid spiritual writing. Christianity wasn’t looked on with favor. I wrote from my heart, a lovesick Christian heart, and my professors discouraged that at every turn. Most of my professors were intellectual, but they made no attempts to befriend me beyond the classroom. They were reserved and rather boring. I think I was so enamored by the newness of college life that I failed to see the looming negative atmosphere. I use to look at UE with favor. However, now it seems like a dark, eerie, and depressing time in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am now attending Taylor, which is the number one midwest college according to &lt;em&gt;US News and World Report&lt;/em&gt;. I am not surprised by this. Taylor professors care about students beyond the classroom. They don’t just voice their love and support; they show their love through actions. They pray with me. They encourage my love for God and beg me to incorporate it into my writing. When I had to withdrawal for the spring semester (again, due to illness) the professors, faculty, and my classmates called me back and renewed my confidence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I don’t write this to bad mouth UE or to suggest Taylor is perfect. I only write this because I realize how much our perception of life can be skewed. We can love things that are bad for us and hate things that are good for us. Hind’s sight is always more clever than our expectations and perception&lt;/span&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/7414240832700387312-6516084261531713543?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6516084261531713543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/ue-vs-tu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6516084261531713543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6516084261531713543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/ue-vs-tu.html' title='UE vs TU'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/hmBP5qdWeHI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1263735490630324978</id><published>2011-09-15T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T14:17:24.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Debate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;"Rhetoric" and&amp;nbsp;"endless and pointless debate" are some terms thrown into our American dialogue. However, as a lover of writing essays, I don't use such terms. I think discussion is vital even if it doesn't end in immediate change. I think views are formulated by diplomacy. I know it can be a frustration when government never passes a law because the representatives can't agree. However, that is the nature of debate. People expressing valid, strong-held beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I gave a presentation in my class and some debate was sparked. There were people with strong opinions, people with speculations, and people with no care. I think all are vital to the process: yes, even the one who doesn't give a hoot. Everyone plays a role even if it doesn't form policy or enforce judgements. Debate is a vital key to the formation of an understanding of oneself and a collective group.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1263735490630324978?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1263735490630324978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/debate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1263735490630324978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1263735490630324978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/debate.html' title='Debate'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7701570564621669331</id><published>2011-09-06T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T19:02:16.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Winter, You May Not Come Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I like warm weather! I love hot and I love humidity. I love the sun burning bright and causing leaves to remain green. The weather took a drastic turn yesterday. Fall weather is inching closer. I love fall, but winter is a beast. I am not ready to battle icy roads or wear heavy coats. As I walked outside today, it felt ominous. The leaves are already falling.&lt;br /&gt;I am not looking forward to Halloween either. The stores are already stocking up with ghouls and goblins. Who wants to look at that scary merchandise? I might lock myself in my room and sulk through the entire holiday. "NO CANDY FOR YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;Oh how will I survive? How can I live through another winter? I am not ready and I never will be. It will come as always. I will complain. You will know I am unhappy. Summer you fade too quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7701570564621669331?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7701570564621669331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/no-winter-you-may-not-come-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7701570564621669331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7701570564621669331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/no-winter-you-may-not-come-again.html' title='No Winter, You May Not Come Again!'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-825494577115575133</id><published>2011-09-01T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T09:45:32.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is New</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Not a long post. Just letting everyone know I am settled into my new house with my two housemates. My room is all decorated. I am just waiting till I have the opportunity to transport my bed. I am sleeping on a couch, which I don't mind a bit. I will send pictures once the bed is transported and neatly made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have classes today: "Israeli Foreign Policy and A Trip to the UN" and "Editing". I am still that amazing non-traditional who befriends four year students who are 10 to 12 years younger than me. I received four hugs today from four welcoming Taylor friends who I missed over the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will audition for the fall musical on Sept 6, &lt;em&gt;A Christmas Carol&lt;/em&gt;. I have no expectations because I have never participated in a musical for Taylor. It will be a large production and I know my talents will be used in some capactiy. I will perform with the touring company on Sept 24th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is great for my first day of classes and I am using the new blogger set up. Hoping it is an improvement and not a headache. That is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-825494577115575133?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/825494577115575133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/not-long-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/825494577115575133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/825494577115575133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/09/not-long-post.html' title='What is New'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6948678297394833237</id><published>2011-08-22T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T18:39:37.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joys of Theatre</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JmLwmAi7zfs/TlMD42QkdCI/AAAAAAAAA9U/1QtPULFLrGw/s1600/Nurse6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JmLwmAi7zfs/TlMD42QkdCI/AAAAAAAAA9U/1QtPULFLrGw/s320/Nurse6.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I know I write plenty of personal posts on theatre, and this will be no different. I went into my bathroom, which has a huge mirror, and worked on my lines. It was exhilarating. Performing is a drug. Performing is a therapeutic release. Taking on the life of another is a great escape from my trivial life. I am still pursuing theatre as a profession. The competition is steep. Even within the small Taylor theater company, I can name females who excel beyond my talent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;There are directors who have encouraged me in this pursuit. It is tempting to think this is a fool’s errand. Most performers are rejected and tossed aside. It is a merciless business. The business’s cruelty is real. Acting is something I must pursue with passion and professionalism. I need to memorize my lines uncommonly fast. I need to build a character without leaning too much on my director. I need to research the play and playwright. I have to participate in set construction, stage managing, and assisting the director. I need to learn how to sew. I need to learn about period pieces and proper clothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I added a theatre minor to my Taylor endeavors. I hope to give the audience a reason to cry, laugh, or return for the Sunday matinee because it was “just that good”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I hope my friends will attend some of my productions. I was overjoyed when seven people from my young adult’s group attended one of my performances. My best friend Rachel and her family came as well. Sarah, my former roommate, also graced me with her presence. I love being able to share this passion with my friends. I feel like my friends don’t really “know me” until they watch one of my performances. It is in my blood, and I come to life on the stage. I am looking forward to everything that Taylor Theatre will present this coming school year. Main productions include A Christmas Carol Musical, Noises Off, and Proof. Not to mention the traveling show, the student produced plays, and the possibility of performing in short films created by the media department. I want to participate in such productions till my hair turns grey. Much like the above picture.&lt;/span&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/7414240832700387312-6948678297394833237?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6948678297394833237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/08/joys-of-theatre.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6948678297394833237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6948678297394833237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/08/joys-of-theatre.html' title='The Joys of Theatre'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JmLwmAi7zfs/TlMD42QkdCI/AAAAAAAAA9U/1QtPULFLrGw/s72-c/Nurse6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2930213188591647543</id><published>2011-08-22T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T08:04:30.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women Suffrage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t82WVrt0J7o/TlJvqvF3mJI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/saEDVVAoHmM/s1600/votes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t82WVrt0J7o/TlJvqvF3mJI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/saEDVVAoHmM/s320/votes.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;I respect all those women who fought for the female vote. Women were considered second class citizens. Women took on a flawed societal opinion and won the vote and respect. Today we still deal with prejudices. Often a man will receive a larger pay check than a woman who does the same job. However, the chance of a woman becoming vice president or president is within reach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Now to the bad news. I am disgusted by the current music trend in female pop music. Women flaunt their bodies in their music videos and on live stages. They sing about promiscuity and sexual freedom. I liked the song “&lt;a href="http://youtu.be/VBmMU_iwe6U"&gt;Run the World&lt;/a&gt;", by Beyonce. I did until I saw the video. She is talking about women power and she is seductively dancing in a bathing suit. I am saddened that women who fought for our voice are now replaced with women who allow themselves to be man’s eye candy. It is degrading. It isn’t just Beyonce. Most popular female artists show too much skin and dance too provocatively. It is soft porn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;I realize true freedom negates my argument. If women are to be free, they should be allowed to express themselves however they choose. Still, I will plead with these women. You are debasing women and you are tarnishing the image of an independent, intelligent, free woman. I think the women of the 1920s would be appalled!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2930213188591647543?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2930213188591647543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/08/women-suffrage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2930213188591647543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2930213188591647543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/08/women-suffrage.html' title='Women Suffrage'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t82WVrt0J7o/TlJvqvF3mJI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/saEDVVAoHmM/s72-c/votes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-707530710684289535</id><published>2011-07-31T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T16:10:29.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching Life Go By</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HtNS1afUOnE?rel=0" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I have spent&amp;nbsp;hours sitting before the television. I love to be entertained. I love to learn about the world. I love theater and all expressions of art. Television inspires me and entertains me. However, I fear it also robs my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I can watch others participate in life while I sit on a couch and mindlessly eat. I am starting to fear the consequences of this lifestyle. Will I come before God and regret my inaction? There are many opportunities to minster to the hurting and feed the hungry. Why does the TV take precedence in my life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;As I watch the news, I get overwhelmed by the world’s problems. I feel helpless. I escape into a world of fantasy. I watch a hero overcome difficult obstacles and fail to become a hero myself. I fear if I limit my entertainment, I will find that my life is empty, dull, and meaningless without it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Sometimes I justify my TV obsession by asserting that I am an artist.&amp;nbsp;I am suppose to&amp;nbsp;tell stories, preach through parables, and entertain. If I immerse myself in entertainment, I will understand my craft. I know, I know! That excuse is ridiculous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-707530710684289535?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/707530710684289535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/watching-life-go-by.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/707530710684289535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/707530710684289535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/watching-life-go-by.html' title='Watching Life Go By'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/HtNS1afUOnE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2831810031073424252</id><published>2011-07-28T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T14:28:20.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Productive Pig</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I have been a productive writer for the last week. I worked on my young adult newsletter, edited chapter seven of my fantasy novel, wrote some blogs, researched for my script, and wrote some letters to family. I have applied myself and now I am fat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Writers sit when they work. They grab some snacks and guzzle caffeinated drinks. They apply themselves and their brain has a mental work out.&amp;nbsp;Despite this mental work out, my&amp;nbsp;slim waist suffers. I am not lazy I promise! I am a writer. I am a productive pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2831810031073424252?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2831810031073424252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/productive-pig.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2831810031073424252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2831810031073424252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/productive-pig.html' title='Productive Pig'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5892617299988886604</id><published>2011-07-28T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T10:05:29.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Government's Poverty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;My little political rant:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I received a “survey” phone call. The lady asked if I would take a three question survey about the current economic crisis. I said “yes” because I love sharing my opinion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;She asked, “Do you think government should raise taxes or spend less money.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I replied, “Spend less money.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This manipulative lady agreed with me. “Oh yes,” she said. “Government shouldn’t blame the tax payers for the government's own reckless spending.” Then the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;conversation went to fundraising. “Would you like to donate $50 to $100 to support the Republicans' fight against government spending?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I hung up and couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. You want me to give the government more money to spend? Didn’t you just say you agreed that was a BAD idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I have always believed that government should be as small as possible. The more money government owns, the more power they own. Some taxpayers are afraid of losing their social security check and losing Medicaid or Medicare. We shouldn’t be dependent on those government programs. The ideal situation is to support a local insurance company. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;The health care mess can be resolved. Refuse government aid and&amp;nbsp;your health providers&amp;nbsp;will be forced to lower cost of medication and care. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;I have the opportunity, through Medicade, to purchase a new pair of glasses and get an eye exam at no cost to me. I am refusing this luxury because it is costing the governement....actually it is costing the taxpayers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;We shouldn't first turn to government aid when we have churches to serve us. The poor shouldn't be indebted to the governement when non-for-profit organizations exist to help. I think a free economy florishes as long as the government knows its place. When FEMA goes broke, let the philanthropist step in to save.&lt;/span&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/7414240832700387312-5892617299988886604?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5892617299988886604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/governments-poverty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5892617299988886604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5892617299988886604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/governments-poverty.html' title='Government&apos;s Poverty'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7482881714739664693</id><published>2011-07-27T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T11:54:29.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>House of Mirth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Over the past months, I have received numerous dreams warning about the financial future of our country. I don’t think the American public is overly concerned about the consequences of government’s debt, but my dreams foretell a difficult future. In one dream I was in a grocery store. The store was well stocked; however, there were shelves that were empty. The store had cut back on production because of the struggling economy. I walked around the store and found a giant baby. The baby was in a diaper and was slightly unkempt. I looked at this massive child and began to care for it. I said, “Look it isn’t that bad.” Problem- this massive baby was huge and the situation was bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;This isn’t my only dream dealing with the current financial predicament. I keep telling myself not to worry. However, my hopes to finish college are wilting. I can’t be in debt if the economy doesn’t recover. I think we all need to prepare ourselves. I am tempted to ignore the fear, but it may be wise to address the limits of my pocketbook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I read the book, House of Mirth, in one of my literature classes. It is a perfect example of the current situation. We no longer have the money to fund our actions, but we are so accustomed to the luxuries, we are failing to live without them. It leads to a sad ending.&lt;/span&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/7414240832700387312-7482881714739664693?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7482881714739664693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/house-of-mirth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7482881714739664693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7482881714739664693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/house-of-mirth.html' title='House of Mirth'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-425638638100631823</id><published>2011-07-25T13:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T13:08:58.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Words or My Silence: A Choice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/O68MByaMVdM?rel=0" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is on fire. I attended The Call at Washington DC several years ago and received a mandate. I received confirmation from numerous sources that I needed to write a script dealing with abortion. I remembered riding back home in the bus after the prayer conference ended. I filled a notebook with possible script ideas. I recently started the script. I will be sending it to a local script writing contest. I know that this topic is taboo. I am convinced that the judges will pitch the script as soon as they realize it deals with abortion. This isn't stopping me.&lt;br /&gt;I continue to believe that some scientist will prove that life begins at conception. The world will be forced to confront the dark reality of a baby holocaust. Babies in the womb aren't given a voice. But, they will be given&amp;nbsp;a in the future. Their blood will speak, and America will reform. It is our only option.&lt;br /&gt;As I write this script, I am confronted by all the opposing voices. The voices that want to silence this message of life. I am asking for determination and boldness. Keep me in your prayers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-425638638100631823?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/425638638100631823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-words-or-my-silence-choice.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/425638638100631823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/425638638100631823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-words-or-my-silence-choice.html' title='My Words or My Silence: A Choice'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/O68MByaMVdM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-353949848906414866</id><published>2011-07-16T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T08:23:08.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair Cut</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uquGofkSSJY/TiGsHZ8PdfI/AAAAAAAAA9M/AKj8mdHYkLc/s1600/Pic+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uquGofkSSJY/TiGsHZ8PdfI/AAAAAAAAA9M/AKj8mdHYkLc/s320/Pic+3.JPG" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I often go through a whirlwind of emotions when I cut my hair. I had a tragic hair salon experience, and it left me scarred. I prefer long hair, but it is difficult to maintain. I plan to grow it out again, of course. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;However, to keep hair healthy you need to cut it sometimes. Plus, I am in a play and the character wouldn't have Arwen length hair. Also, I needed to cut it because I am not the same person. After some dramatic changes in my life, I consider it fitting to change my hair as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I cut it myself because salons still frighten me. I love the new look. It is less heavy and my hair looks fuller. Yahoo for make-overs!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkEQvOvOVGg/TiGsCFlaT7I/AAAAAAAAA9I/VGW0t9KTDmM/s1600/Pic1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkEQvOvOVGg/TiGsCFlaT7I/AAAAAAAAA9I/VGW0t9KTDmM/s320/Pic1.JPG" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-353949848906414866?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/353949848906414866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/hair-cut.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/353949848906414866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/353949848906414866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/hair-cut.html' title='Hair Cut'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uquGofkSSJY/TiGsHZ8PdfI/AAAAAAAAA9M/AKj8mdHYkLc/s72-c/Pic+3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3511513035182590970</id><published>2011-07-14T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T12:11:37.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard a Conversation</title><content type='html'>I wanted to share a conversation I overheard at the YMCA. There was a young boy about six or seven. He had a towel wrapped round him and his back was badly burnt. The female adult with him (possibly a babysitter or mother) was trying to figure out why he was that burnt. Here is the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: How long did she let you stay outside?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: A very long time. We played in the pool for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;Woman: How long is a long time?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: (after thinking for moment) 80 minutes!&lt;br /&gt;Woman: 80 minutes? That is a long time. Do you know how long 80 minutes is?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Yes I do!&lt;br /&gt;Woman: You do? How long?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: 80!!&lt;br /&gt;Woman: (After laughter). 80 minutes is also 1 hour and 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have told the woman that it is actually 1 hour and 20 minutes. But, we all know that correcting an adult in front of a child is rude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3511513035182590970?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3511513035182590970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/overheard-conversation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3511513035182590970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3511513035182590970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/overheard-conversation.html' title='Overheard a Conversation'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-126565669599190564</id><published>2011-07-08T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T14:58:21.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rooming with Myself</title><content type='html'>I am moving into the university dorms in August. It feels somewhat strange to enter dorm life at the age of thirty. However, it was the best option for me. I have been a little uneasy about the prospect of a&amp;nbsp;roommate. I was prepared to share a cramped space with another person. However, living with an illness and another person can be somewhat complicated.&lt;br /&gt;I gave it over to the Lord in prayer. I got my room assignment today and it seems I will be living in a single room. I didn't even request it and those rooms are rare. I know this is the best option because I need my sleep and a place to go to be alone. I was extremely excited to get the news.&lt;br /&gt;I am still unsettled about returning to college. However, I think I am courageous enough to return and overcome my fears! Getting my dormitory wish made the transition a little smoother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-126565669599190564?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/126565669599190564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/rooming-with-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/126565669599190564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/126565669599190564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/rooming-with-myself.html' title='Rooming with Myself'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-849377845414483107</id><published>2011-07-06T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T12:45:10.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gandalf and Casey Anthony</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2ab77bde3141d7e2" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2ab77bde3141d7e2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331461444%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D15913A5734BC064A2149D46F5C54A8DC5FE1D7C7.66FD1EFEC4034B381608D8A451533CF32EF3163E%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2ab77bde3141d7e2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8oqu2TUs-wmOaQux2ntomKlprKA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2ab77bde3141d7e2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331461444%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D15913A5734BC064A2149D46F5C54A8DC5FE1D7C7.66FD1EFEC4034B381608D8A451533CF32EF3163E%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2ab77bde3141d7e2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8oqu2TUs-wmOaQux2ntomKlprKA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;The “not guilty” verdict in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtu.be/3H6YxAEVJdY"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Casey Anthony Trial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt; wasn’t received well by the general public. Negative comments are flooding the social networks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;don’t know if she is guilty or innocent of those horrific crimes. I DO know that I am not in a position to accuse her. I believe the moment you judge another person’s action, you are vulnerable to a similar judgment. When you accuse someone, you must look inward and accuse yourself. The death of this poor girl is tragic. I want justice, but it was beneficial for me to watch mercy in action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I think Gandalf’s wisdom applies in this setting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-849377845414483107?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/849377845414483107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/gandalf-and-casey-anthony.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/849377845414483107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/849377845414483107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/gandalf-and-casey-anthony.html' title='Gandalf and Casey Anthony'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2407349541941144564</id><published>2011-07-01T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T12:37:00.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it be a Gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I was speaking with someone about my mental illness. I can't seem to move on from my last episode. It is making me feel like less of a person. It is making me question things that I have always trusted in. &lt;br /&gt;One of my&amp;nbsp;friends told me not to treat my illness like a monster to defeat. She suggested I embrace it and see it as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;I probably wouldn't be able to write as I do without this illness. If I weren't ill, I pobably would be less understanding of others who have a similar struggle. The illness may prevent me from doing things I want to do. However, those things might not be things I should pursue. This illness has caused me to be honest, vulnerable, and courageous. Let it be a gift.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2407349541941144564?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2407349541941144564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/let-it-be-gift.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2407349541941144564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2407349541941144564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/let-it-be-gift.html' title='Let it be a Gift'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1335611000166198260</id><published>2011-07-01T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T09:35:11.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Walk Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I have discovered the power of walking away. If I am working on a project for school and nothing is coming to me, I walk away. If I am trying to amend my tax forms and finding insane frustration, I walk away. This doesn't mean I avoid responsibility. It simply means I delay responsibility. Sometimes the timing isn't right. Sometimes you just have to break away from stress and wait for the more opportune time.&lt;br /&gt;Writers need to understand this balancing act. We have deadlines, but we can't force genius. I trust that, if I give myself time to breathe, the creative juices will have time for inspiration. Writier block is not always a curse. It may be an excuse to rest your brian.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't understand this principle early in life and I caused myself too much grief. Taking a break to enjoy chocolate chip cookies&amp;nbsp;dipped in milk might just be the key to unlocking understanding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1335611000166198260?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1335611000166198260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-walk-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1335611000166198260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1335611000166198260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-walk-away.html' title='Just Walk Away'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6301540237064986679</id><published>2011-06-20T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T17:21:02.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Content</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I am content. I feel like I am where I am suppose to be and doing what I am suppose to be doing. I find joy in the simplest things. I know many people look for happiness, but I think happiness finds you. It isn't something you can grasp by your own effort. It is a state of being, not a pursuit.&lt;br /&gt;I find contentment from things that we can all access like rain, grass, clouds, a mother's laugh, a baby's squeal, and the smell of fresh cut lemons.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't do anything to possess happiness. As I mentioned before, it found me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6301540237064986679?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6301540237064986679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/06/content.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6301540237064986679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6301540237064986679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/06/content.html' title='Content'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6074643852754737585</id><published>2011-06-05T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T13:07:42.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;This&amp;nbsp;last week was spent&amp;nbsp;with family. I went to Kentucky to visit my aunt and ninety-year-old grandfather. I saw two of my cousins and my second cousin Benny! We ate Oreo cake and corn-on-the-cob, which makes it officially summer.&lt;br /&gt;After that we headed north to Southern Indiana. My other aunt was having a retirement party. Family form all over the US drove to celebrate with her. We toasted to her with champagne and a silly poem. All my second cousins, my niece, and nephews swam in a pool. I was too immersed in their cuteness and forgot to put on my sun screen. I am a little pink, but nothing painful.&lt;br /&gt;I feel rested and well fed. Pictures to come!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6074643852754737585?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6074643852754737585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/06/family-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6074643852754737585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6074643852754737585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/06/family-time.html' title='Family Time'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1056114233753860023</id><published>2011-05-13T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T19:50:08.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Taylor Theater has a media communications major. I was asked to act in one of the group's short film. Here is the link to the final project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vimeo.com/23710634"&gt;http://www.vimeo.com/23710634&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1056114233753860023?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1056114233753860023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/05/stage.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1056114233753860023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1056114233753860023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/05/stage.html' title='The Stage'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8121117378610273337</id><published>2011-05-04T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T11:58:21.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love Taylor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;One of the reasons I love Taylor University: the people are entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Thn8nC8iPkw?rel=0" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8121117378610273337?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8121117378610273337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/05/why-i-love-taylor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8121117378610273337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8121117378610273337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/05/why-i-love-taylor.html' title='Why I Love Taylor'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Thn8nC8iPkw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5359351580504719058</id><published>2011-05-01T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T18:13:44.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fantasy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I began writing a Christian Fantasy novel about a year and a half ago. I am picking away at it, and recently I feel a suffocating devotion to it.&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;am working toward professionalism, so now I understand words like deadline, focus, and discipline.&amp;nbsp;I need to focus on this project above all those other projects. &lt;br /&gt;Writing this novel is no longer a side project or a hobby. It is taking my energy and all my creativity. I am currently on chapter 6. (These six chapters are only in first or second draft form). About four people have had the privilege of reading the first three chapters, for editing purposes and criticism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have an inflated ego. I don't expect this story to make history like The Lord of the Rings, Narnia, or Harry Potter. However, the story is a story I want to share with others. I know I found comfort and solace as I created the characters and the situations. I want my words to bring comfort to those who are facing confusion and those who lack self-worth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5359351580504719058?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5359351580504719058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-fantasy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5359351580504719058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5359351580504719058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-fantasy.html' title='My Fantasy'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-213537346685397295</id><published>2011-04-28T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T10:40:34.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Film Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I was given the great opportunity to star in a short film, here is the evidence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yQ_rxzi8z5g/Tbmkn3a_-cI/AAAAAAAAA8o/OCCh97ViRbo/s1600/TamGun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yQ_rxzi8z5g/Tbmkn3a_-cI/AAAAAAAAA8o/OCCh97ViRbo/s320/TamGun.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I must confess! Wearing a leather jacket and pointing a gun makes me feel powerful and sexy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dTO5-VrRqoM/TbmkqeLSyYI/AAAAAAAAA8s/hZOzPMKBOks/s1600/camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dTO5-VrRqoM/TbmkqeLSyYI/AAAAAAAAA8s/hZOzPMKBOks/s320/camera.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Here is a great picture of the producer, director, and editor. We shot a scene late at night in an alley in the bitter cold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v6mYSig82N4/TbmktARXwJI/AAAAAAAAA8w/-zyDLQT6Mb0/s1600/director.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v6mYSig82N4/TbmktARXwJI/AAAAAAAAA8w/-zyDLQT6Mb0/s320/director.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;We already have a picture of the director, but this will be take 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8hK2kreDejI/Tbmkvz-sGpI/AAAAAAAAA80/0A3iOpd-QVM/s1600/Take+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8hK2kreDejI/Tbmkvz-sGpI/AAAAAAAAA80/0A3iOpd-QVM/s320/Take+1.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Speaking of takes, we had a crew member&amp;nbsp;hold this sign before each clip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XD9ysJ-o28g/Tbmkx-hJTBI/AAAAAAAAA84/KeG3ZOMRx98/s1600/boom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XD9ysJ-o28g/Tbmkx-hJTBI/AAAAAAAAA84/KeG3ZOMRx98/s320/boom.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Yes, these long microphones really do exist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V03C6iP1zXk/Tbmk0M4hPbI/AAAAAAAAA88/4TjUmph2Fv4/s1600/theater+man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V03C6iP1zXk/Tbmk0M4hPbI/AAAAAAAAA88/4TjUmph2Fv4/s320/theater+man.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Here is another actor in the film. He also works as an agent. You could tell he was a professional. He brought outfits with accessories galore, used the correct makeup, and brought a fake mustache. He even gave me his agent card and said he liked what he saw in me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5dFG6Uu5cE/Tbmk3XZTxJI/AAAAAAAAA9A/22LnjC1sM5c/s1600/happy+ending.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5dFG6Uu5cE/Tbmk3XZTxJI/AAAAAAAAA9A/22LnjC1sM5c/s320/happy+ending.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Yes, this short film has a happy ending.&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/7414240832700387312-213537346685397295?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/213537346685397295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/short-film-pictures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/213537346685397295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/213537346685397295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/short-film-pictures.html' title='Short Film Pictures'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yQ_rxzi8z5g/Tbmkn3a_-cI/AAAAAAAAA8o/OCCh97ViRbo/s72-c/TamGun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1563739706351941516</id><published>2011-04-17T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T18:49:16.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Junk, Less Space</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I am staying with my parents for a few months before I return to classes for the fall. I spend most of my time cleaning and organizing. It is amazing how much junk can collect over the years. We have 5 bed frames not in use. We have an attic that hasn't been opened since I was 11. We have old computer parts, dusty books, and end tables galore. Spring cleaning is a necessity for most Americans; our family is no exception. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was making some headway. However, my grandfather is moving to a smaller apartment. My father and I wanted items for sentimental value. I think I took two steps forward and three steps back. There is no room to hide these items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad and I like to watch shows like &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.history.com/shows/american-pickers"&gt;American Pickers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.aetv.com/storage-wars/video/?paidlink=1&amp;amp;vid=AETV_SEM_Search&amp;amp;keywords=storage%2Bwars&amp;amp;utm_source=google&amp;amp;utm_medium=cpc&amp;amp;utm_campaign=storage%20wars&amp;amp;utm_term=storage%20wars"&gt;Storage Wars&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. We hope that the useless furniture tucked away downstairs may have significant monetary value in the future. We are currently trying to decide if we are treasure collectors or hoarders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would pay someone to sift through the piles. I would donate items to goodwill. I would give things to the less fortunate. However, it is still a daunting task, taking one step at a time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1563739706351941516?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1563739706351941516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/more-junk-less-space.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1563739706351941516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1563739706351941516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/more-junk-less-space.html' title='More Junk, Less Space'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8262802575790824606</id><published>2011-04-14T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T19:23:33.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goings On</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I went to my high school to watch the musical, &lt;em&gt;Thoroughly Modern Millie&lt;/em&gt;. My high school theater is filled with memories and familar smells. I fell in love with performing on that stage.&amp;nbsp;Our high school theater will be having a 45th reunion show this June. I will participate and can't wait to reconnect with my old theater crew. I appreciate the directors who recognized my potential and birthed my theater hopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be watching another theater production in a few days. Taylor Theater is staging the play, &lt;em&gt;Witness for the Prosecution&lt;/em&gt;. I am getting a good dose of theater this month. Taylor Theater will be having the end of the year theater banquet in May. At the banquet, Tracy (our director) will unveil what three production will be produced next year. I can hardly wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I will be having a photo shoot with my good friend Brian. He is talented, and I just had to support his business. I also know he will make me look good! I will post those pictures on this blog later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8262802575790824606?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8262802575790824606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/goings-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8262802575790824606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8262802575790824606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/goings-on.html' title='Goings On'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5764303911449182250</id><published>2011-04-12T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T20:31:13.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning House and A Sound Booth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I helped clean six houses this past week. People truly appreciate a clean house, especially mothers with young children. I love spring cleaning for those who don't have the time or motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I recorded voice overs for the short film. This was my first time in a sound booth. I had a big fancy microphone and some stylish headphones. I loved the experience! It was a thrill! I will be attending the premier next month; I can't wait to see the final product. I am living my dream folks!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5764303911449182250?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5764303911449182250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/cleaning-house-and-sound-booth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5764303911449182250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5764303911449182250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/cleaning-house-and-sound-booth.html' title='Cleaning House and A Sound Booth'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5390121258648027957</id><published>2011-04-04T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T20:32:01.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Returning in the Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I am officially a college student again. It feels surreal after my traumatizing hospitalization. I expected to be defeated and lacking hope. I expected I would quit college and hide in a hole somewhere. However, Taylor University was God's idea and He made this transition smooth and somewhat delightful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited the campus last week and saw numerous friends (who I hadn't seen in awhile). It was a breath of fresh air. You appreciate people more when you have to let go of them for a season. I am anxious for the fall semester to begin. My theater community was super welcoming and gave me numerous hugs and "I missed you" speeches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am returning with more passion, ambition, and determination. This humbling experience has made me a better person. I understand my current community is super precious and irreplaceable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5390121258648027957?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5390121258648027957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/returning-in-fall.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5390121258648027957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5390121258648027957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/returning-in-fall.html' title='Returning in the Fall'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-962487972424445267</id><published>2011-04-03T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T06:57:20.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filming a Short Film</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;During the spring semester, I hoped to be a part of the touring theater company show. I was going to travel to various places throughout the states. I was unable to to continue playing the role because of a hospitalization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke to the director, and she informed me that the same play will be in production during the fall 2011 semester. She has informed me that the role is still mine. I missed the spring semester activity, but it warms my heart that I will be able to perform in this production once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had the great pleasure of performing in a short film. Taylor University has a media communication major, and I was asked to participate in a short film project. I played the female lead. She is diagnosed with &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome"&gt;Asperger Syndrome&lt;/a&gt;. I have moments of rage and insanity. I believe I was somewhat prepared for the role due to my recent health battle. &lt;em&gt;All things work to the good of those who love God.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will post pictures of the film shoot within a few months.&lt;br /&gt;Here is a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/FollowTheLeaderProdu"&gt;youtube page&lt;/a&gt; of videos made by the producer of the short film.&amp;nbsp;The video I starred in&amp;nbsp;will be posted here sometime in May.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-962487972424445267?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/962487972424445267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/filming-short-film.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/962487972424445267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/962487972424445267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/04/filming-short-film.html' title='Filming a Short Film'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6367223499030708972</id><published>2011-03-21T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T14:41:55.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Therapy Session</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Today I spoke with a therapist. It is never easy telling someone you are crazy. Sharing my hospital experience isn't easy. My heart is wounded. It helps that a professional is commiting to work through my ugliness because not many people can handle the reality of mental illness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will share things with this therapist that I won't share with my closest friends. Even people who love me, can't completely understand what I am going through. It feels good to let my guard down and talk with someone who deals with this type of illness each morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6367223499030708972?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6367223499030708972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/therapy-session.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6367223499030708972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6367223499030708972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/therapy-session.html' title='Therapy Session'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2098763488392895412</id><published>2011-03-15T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T16:07:17.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;My life looks very different than it did&amp;nbsp;3 months ago. I am taking a break from school,&amp;nbsp;planning to&amp;nbsp;return for the fall semester. I am helping my mother and father clean the house. I find true joy in Lysol and laundry. I am learning to cook. This service is making my mother happy and her health is improving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to the gym excessively. I am trying to lose a significant amount of weight. My health is a priority at the moment, and I need to fit into those skinny jeans (joking). I am shooting hoops and that gym is my sanctuary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hiking and walking around in nature. The older I get, the more I appreciate such adventures. I am spending less time on social networking sites, which has been my goal for the last two months. I am reading poetry and practicing monologues. Our high school theater is having an anniversary show. I will once again grace the stage with my ugly mug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2098763488392895412?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2098763488392895412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/life-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2098763488392895412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2098763488392895412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/life-update.html' title='Life Update'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4897869077924279688</id><published>2011-03-12T16:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T16:48:47.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Interview</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Watch &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbn.com/media/player/index.aspx?s=/vod/700Clubi_031011_WS"&gt;Corey Russell&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt; interview on the 700 club.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4897869077924279688?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4897869077924279688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/good-interview.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4897869077924279688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4897869077924279688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/good-interview.html' title='A Good Interview'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1509479592556694112</id><published>2011-03-11T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T09:29:12.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>East Noble Theater</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://hs.eastnoble.net/theatre/default.aspx"&gt;My high school theater reunion&lt;/a&gt; is coming this year. I always look forward to this event. It gives me a moment to surround myself with familiar thoughts. Theater people are of a certain breed. I am working on losing weight because all people know theater is all about image....oh and talent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1509479592556694112?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1509479592556694112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/east-noble-theater.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1509479592556694112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1509479592556694112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/east-noble-theater.html' title='East Noble Theater'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6333218432639335889</id><published>2011-03-06T14:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T14:55:23.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Fail to Make Me Smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/DHw2VbFn0fM" title="YouTube video player" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this video! It is a perfect example of the current generation. I have given up trying to connect with the younger generation. They are too busy listening to their MP3 and playing video games. I don't blame them; I just don't have the cash to buy the most recent IPAD. I love this song because it is carefree. It should be the theme song for Twitter, Facebook, Myspace, and all the other social networking sites out there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6333218432639335889?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6333218432639335889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/never-fail-to-make-me-smile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6333218432639335889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6333218432639335889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/never-fail-to-make-me-smile.html' title='Never Fail to Make Me Smile'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/DHw2VbFn0fM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4153430053223586658</id><published>2011-03-02T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T17:27:42.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Really?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I have this compassion button. I don't want to believe people are evil to the core. I hope I am good, but the evidence is stacking against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My&amp;nbsp;perception and judgements are flawed. Especially, since I was diagnosed with a mental illness. I watched &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0i9vHYiW2g"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Changeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;with my parents and God shed new light on the depravity of man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;want mercy for even the most wicked of men and women. The liars, the brutes, the manipulators, the proud, the sexual immoral, and the weak. We will all face a day when we will come face to face with the unknown. We will attempt to lean on our own strength, our own words, our own hopes: until that privilege is taken from us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4153430053223586658?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4153430053223586658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/hitler-what-is-wrong-with-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4153430053223586658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4153430053223586658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/03/hitler-what-is-wrong-with-me.html' title='Really?'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8781364294411693518</id><published>2011-02-18T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T15:58:29.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving it All Behind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;We make small sacrifices and we make extreme sacrifices. Today I couldn't hold on anymore. I attended a theater production in my hometown high school theater. It made me ache for Taylor Theater, but God slammed the door. I have such powerful aspirations, but God holds me back. It is humilating and touching.&lt;br /&gt;Here I am again. In the small town of K-ville. The town I have fallen in love with numerous times. It is safe and home.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my fans and Christian family, but the hometown show must go on...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8781364294411693518?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8781364294411693518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/leaving-it-all-behind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8781364294411693518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8781364294411693518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/leaving-it-all-behind.html' title='Leaving it All Behind'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7154487863050950049</id><published>2011-02-18T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T14:28:43.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Computer Addict</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I am a professional writer. Due to my artistic nature and my right brain tendencies, I can stay on the Internet for hours. I can write an article about homeschooling, then watch a youtube video about kittens eating marshmallows, and then blogging.&lt;br /&gt;I have learned a trick to avoid the addiction to "mess around" on the worldwide web: unplug my energy cord. When the energy runs low, I know I have spent to long on the web. Simple and practical, as long as you are strong enough not to plug it back in when the battery is low.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7154487863050950049?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7154487863050950049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/computer-addict.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7154487863050950049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7154487863050950049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/computer-addict.html' title='The Computer Addict'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3690908565795231826</id><published>2011-02-17T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T07:33:58.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Financial Logic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I was talking with my father today about business matters. He explained when demand for food increases, so to does the price of food. After hearing that logic. I asked a question following a similar principle. "If the demand for jobs increase, why doesn't the pay wages increase." My father explained that it also works the other way. When bosses demand more money for less employees, the demand for computer replacement goes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This logic can bring us to two conclusions:&amp;nbsp;the &amp;nbsp;must respect the worker as much as his or her bottom line or risk a riot. My boss, Scott Voelker, is good to his employees and it makes his employees work harder and more efficient. I hope to write an essay with a more professional approach to this logic. Anyone interested in buying my thoughts?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3690908565795231826?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3690908565795231826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/financial-logic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3690908565795231826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3690908565795231826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/financial-logic.html' title='Financial Logic'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4395040365761528464</id><published>2011-02-16T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:31:16.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nature vs Nurture</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;There is an unsolved mystery in the science community: &lt;a href="http://genealogy.about.com/cs/geneticgenealogy/a/nature_nurture.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;nature vs nurture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;This battle has raged within my spirit as well. I see children with disabilities and my tendency is to blame genes or improper medical advice during pregnancy. If we carry this logic through to its conclusion: attraction and love are simply hormonal reactions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I don't think nurture and nature are completely two different categories. Nature causes humans to be nurturing. It would seem that the nature argument is more verifiable. Nature causes events to happen that call for nurturing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After experiencing a mental break, it is tempting to think I have no control over my emotions. I take medications to combat my body's tendency to be erratic and hyper. Without these medications, I wouldn't be able to function in this fast paced world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the question is: are these medications made to nurture me back to sanity or are the made to nurture me out of who nature intended me to be? Any Watson's out there willing to take on this argument.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4395040365761528464?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4395040365761528464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/nature-vs-nurture.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4395040365761528464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4395040365761528464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/nature-vs-nurture.html' title='Nature vs Nurture'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8584765417571877964</id><published>2011-02-14T07:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T07:43:23.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forced Sterilization and my Thoughts</title><content type='html'>While I was cleaning my parent’s house, I listened to an &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;NPR&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;program. I only listened to the last few minutes of the program; however, the discussion is one close to my heart. One of the ladies on the show has a mentally ill daughter who she feels needs to be sterilized. The other lady rebuttal argued sterilization should never be forced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, just before the program, I spoke with my aunt Karen about the same issue. I am running away from marriage and kids because of my illness. I have my own fears, but I agreed with both positions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since mental illness is such a mysterious illness, forced sterilization is tricky. Most mentally ill people do contribute to society. Often this contribution comes at a cost, but what doesn’t? I know that for a government to survive, it must be able to afford services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Democracy is built on the foundation that everyone is created equal. The sick need not pay for years of governmental corruption. It is the churches, the community, and the business owner’s job to aid the sick. That is why I have returned to my parent’s house, not because I failed. I returned to witness to this fact: we are capable of helping others even in uncertain times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forced sterilization was corrupt during the Nazi Germany. Even if the doctors and nurses believed what they were doing was best for their country, IT WAS STILL MURDER. I forgive them because I have learned from those mistakes. I hope America does as well. I think Obama is valiant for addressing this issue. Health is a huge issue in our society today. I have hope for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any thoughts? Please share your thoughts and please tell me your story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8584765417571877964?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8584765417571877964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/forced-sterilization-and-my-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8584765417571877964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8584765417571877964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/forced-sterilization-and-my-thoughts.html' title='Forced Sterilization and my Thoughts'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7988854179628875560</id><published>2011-02-13T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T16:06:54.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney</title><content type='html'>Disney is beloved by children and adults alike. Something about the pure sweetness of everything they make. I would love to be a voice over one day for an animated show. My favorite Disney movie is still Aladdin. I am not a huge fan of the popular computer animated videos, although I admit that most children enjoy them. I wonder if it is a fad. I fear it may replace classics paints like Beauty and the Beast. It isn't like I am afriad of what is coming. I just long to be a child myself. By watching the old classics, I remember how good I had it. I am still a kid at heart. I am struggling to grow up. Coffee stunted my growth and I am the shortest in my family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7988854179628875560?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7988854179628875560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/disney.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7988854179628875560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7988854179628875560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/disney.html' title='Disney'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7689923885925499899</id><published>2011-02-12T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T17:34:20.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Who Support</title><content type='html'>My family never understood my theater addiction. I assume because it scares my dad. Acting like someone else is not an easy job. I acted in a play this last Spring. It was about The White Rose resistant group. I needed to research this testimony, but instead I lived it. I went into the hospital and began to hallucinate that I was in a gas chamber. I believed I was being held against my will and would possibly die. I heard guns and shouting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actors are dramatic for a reason!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actors and Actresses do not have the easy life. That is why they run to alcohol, drugs, and thrills. People who live the lives of other are prone to share in those raw emotions. I miss the stage. I really do! I need therapy because it is an addiction. It is my calling and I can't give it up. (get it, addiction) We all need help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7689923885925499899?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7689923885925499899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/those-who-support.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7689923885925499899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7689923885925499899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/those-who-support.html' title='Those Who Support'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2573239961301183487</id><published>2011-02-10T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T11:15:05.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crushes that Crush</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PgGUKWiw7Wk" frameborder="0" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I share videos, I suggest you pay them back for thier message. Buy this CD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high school, I had several boyfriend crushes. My emotions and affections would change everyday. If I started a conversation with a guy, I would feel a spark. However, due to my spiritual nature, I often avoided guys and denied these feelings. My heart was naturally guarded. I was often a wallflower during highschool, except for a few brave guys who had the pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am 30, and feeling that strange alone feeling. I am not trusting this emotion because I can't seek male affection just because I am insecure. Women often retreat to books and movies because they encounter a love they can control and leave at any time. Our fragile, broken hearts crave love and find it in movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I found a lasting love where I didn't expect it. My mother and father have seen me through so many layers of ugliness and beautiful. My father is loyal. My parent's relationship is not perfect and it needs improvement, but it is still a marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divorce is a subject I approach timidly. Most of my friends (who are products of divorce) champion it. They remember when their parents fought and grew apart. As children/teenagers, they saw the redemptive quality of divorce. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my dad gave up on my mother. I guess I will never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am learning to come to my dad instead of Charlie Epps (yeah I still have a crush).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2573239961301183487?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2573239961301183487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/crushes-that-crush.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2573239961301183487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2573239961301183487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/crushes-that-crush.html' title='Crushes that Crush'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/PgGUKWiw7Wk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2526381342050629019</id><published>2011-02-07T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T11:58:06.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back in a manner of speaking</title><content type='html'>I have been at the Northeast Center in Auburn. I give the facility high marks because I am able to function more than ever. My understanding of my resposibilities and the importance of deadlines has grown! I am maturing as a writer. I am stepping away from the abstract and making more of an attempt to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetry seems to remain my first love. I wrote numerous poems during my stay. I shared them with my mother and they seemed to calm her down. My writing will heal her; I have no doubt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2526381342050629019?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2526381342050629019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-back-in-manner-of-speaking.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2526381342050629019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2526381342050629019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-back-in-manner-of-speaking.html' title='I&apos;m Back in a manner of speaking'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-721327612896475638</id><published>2011-01-11T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T16:49:18.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone reading this?</title><content type='html'>I am considering cutting this blog. Should I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-721327612896475638?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/721327612896475638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/01/anyone-reading-this.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/721327612896475638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/721327612896475638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/01/anyone-reading-this.html' title='Anyone reading this?'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-9059445061936203984</id><published>2011-01-04T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T14:06:34.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>B-ball Dreams</title><content type='html'>When I was younger, I wasn't chosen for the basketball team. I was rejected by the team manager. It hurt to feel so alone. But, after I saw the list of players on the team, I was not on the list. Another girl wasn't on the list as well, her name was Jenny. I was diligent and worked extremely hard to reach my goal. (YES!! I LOVE DREAMS). Although my peserverence paid off the dream didn't end up happening. I went in to the classroom (can't remeber which ? one). However, my twin brother gave me a brotherly hug. It meant more to me than anything. That includes ANY dreams about becoming a famous basketball player....although they tell me I am a great shot. I should be...I practice enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed to share this because even after all the rejection, the expectations, the hopes, the needs, and the determination....deep down I still long to play for a team that loves a supports me. Maybe the Kendallville YMCA will get a girl's basketball team someday. Who knows?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-9059445061936203984?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/9059445061936203984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/01/b-ball-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/9059445061936203984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/9059445061936203984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2011/01/b-ball-dreams.html' title='B-ball Dreams'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5351869043756718570</id><published>2010-12-14T11:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T12:01:18.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Semester is Over</title><content type='html'>I just finished my last final. I will be getting A's in all three of my classes, which makes me smile. Although I will miss the intellectual stimulation, I am glad I have a break. I want to spend the next few weeks rigorously writing my fantasy novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just so happens that next semester I will be taking a Fantasy Writing class. God encouraged me to write a fantasy novel a year ago. I was obedient, and it is coming along nicely. The Fantasy Class is new this spring, and I consider this providence. After watching &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrJQDPpIK6I"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The Voyage of the Dawn Treader&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;in the theater, I was reminded how much God speaks through riddles and storytelling. Fantasy is so freaking cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also plan to focus on my health in the next month. Now that I have &lt;em&gt;more&lt;/em&gt; time, I HOPE to spend &lt;em&gt;more&lt;/em&gt; time in the gym. I also have a book to review by the end of the month. I also plan to attend &lt;a href="http://www.ihop.org/Groups/1000066245/International_House_of/Events/National_Conferences/onething/onething_2010/onething_2010.aspx?redirected=1"&gt;ONE THING &lt;/a&gt;this year. There is my current life in a nutshell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5351869043756718570?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5351869043756718570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/12/semester-is-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5351869043756718570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5351869043756718570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/12/semester-is-over.html' title='Semester is Over'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3317687644673976330</id><published>2010-11-10T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T15:14:50.028-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope Line</title><content type='html'>I was listening to the radio and heard Dawson McAllister. He is a radio host who receives calls from teenagers and those in their late twenties who are dealing with tough situations. They share relationship troubles, family estrangements, broken friendships, depression, suicidal thoughts, and addictions. McAllister does what he can to give them direction and hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thehopeline.com/CSDefault.aspx"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Hope Line Website&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been encouraged by his message of hope and shocked by the stories. I am glad to know there is someone who speaks the plain truth, acknowledges God, and understands the power of community.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3317687644673976330?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3317687644673976330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/11/hope-line.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3317687644673976330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3317687644673976330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/11/hope-line.html' title='Hope Line'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2234188161720242941</id><published>2010-11-01T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T07:35:58.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Undesirables</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TM7PGg1uR_I/AAAAAAAAA6A/Gj3JdnTHAnY/s1600/nazi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534588702886348786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TM7PGg1uR_I/AAAAAAAAA6A/Gj3JdnTHAnY/s400/nazi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One horrible reality within the Nazi party was a branding of people as "undesirables". People afflicted with mental illness were considered unworthy of life. Nazi scientist experimented on these sick people, using gruesome methods, and then sent them away to be murdered. I hate Nazi practices and philosophies. No one has the right to label a life as unworthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I often consider myself unworthy anyway. My mother is afflicted with paranoid schizophrenia. She is delusion throughout the entire day. Medications are used, but they aren't 100% effective. She is tormented. I am mentally ill as well. I take medications and these medications are effective. I am lucid and able to live a normal life. However, there are times when my illness is triggered, through stress or unhealthy choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I recently faced a stressful situation, and my illness flared up. When I struggles with these strange emotions and thoughts, I often &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; I am unworthy. I even have suicidal thoughts. This is not because I am depressed or because I don't want to live anymore. I just hate being a burden on my family, friends, and the society.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I graduated high school, I made a promise to myself: "I will never live off the government." I was willing to starve or live without shelter. I wasn't going to use other people's money to aid my failure to be self-sufficient. Unfortunately, if I don't take my medications, I am a danger to myself and others. I had to get government aid for my medications, which cost more than $600 a month. I am a burden on the functional side of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate what the Nazi did. However, I fear that I submit to those philosophies in my own life when I consider my own illness and my unworthiness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2234188161720242941?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2234188161720242941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/11/undesirables.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2234188161720242941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2234188161720242941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/11/undesirables.html' title='Undesirables'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TM7PGg1uR_I/AAAAAAAAA6A/Gj3JdnTHAnY/s72-c/nazi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2381553066292319312</id><published>2010-10-13T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T14:04:32.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Poem I Like</title><content type='html'>I read this poem in a literature class. LOVE IT!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hazel Tells LaVerne&lt;br /&gt;Katharyn Machan Aal (b. 1952)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night&lt;br /&gt;im cleanin out my&lt;br /&gt;howard johnsons ladies room&lt;br /&gt;when all of a sudden&lt;br /&gt;up pops this frog&lt;br /&gt;musta come from the sewer&lt;br /&gt;swimmin aroun an tryin ta&lt;br /&gt;climb up the sida the bowl&lt;br /&gt;so i goes ta flushm down&lt;br /&gt;but sohelpmegod he starts talkin&lt;br /&gt;bout a golden ball&lt;br /&gt;an how i can be a princess&lt;br /&gt;me a princess&lt;br /&gt;well my mouth drops&lt;br /&gt;all the way to the floor&lt;br /&gt;an he says&lt;br /&gt;kiss me just kiss me&lt;br /&gt;once on the nose&lt;br /&gt;well i screams&lt;br /&gt;ya little green pervert&lt;br /&gt;an i hitsm with my mop&lt;br /&gt;an has ta flush&lt;br /&gt;the toilet down three times&lt;br /&gt;me&lt;br /&gt;a princess&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2381553066292319312?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2381553066292319312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/10/poem-i-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2381553066292319312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2381553066292319312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/10/poem-i-like.html' title='A Poem I Like'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7122841381033444616</id><published>2010-10-12T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T12:54:19.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deadlines Swiftly Approaching</title><content type='html'>With the play this last weekend and with midterm approaching, I was extremely overwhelmed and suffering from lack of sleep. I had two looming projects, which I felt I had no time to complete. Both of those two projects' deadlines were postponed till after Fall Break by the teachers. It feels wonderful. Someone is watching out for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7122841381033444616?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7122841381033444616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/10/deadlines-swiftly-approaching.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7122841381033444616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7122841381033444616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/10/deadlines-swiftly-approaching.html' title='Deadlines Swiftly Approaching'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4240399484712974046</id><published>2010-10-05T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T18:03:41.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Woman</title><content type='html'>I am in a Critical Approaches to Literature class. We are currently learning about "gendering the text". This critical approach deals with how women and men are viewed in literature. (That is a vague definition, but this definition will serve the purpose of this blog post.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I have been grappling with my identity. The role of women in society is rapidly changing. Equality and independence are fueling women to break out of the traditional societal molds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are two quotes from my class reading assignment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "[A women is] forced instead to suppress her unique voice and attempt to fit into the mansions of male traditions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. "Females have been depicted in literature and culture as either Mary or Eve, the angelic mother or the evil seductress."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Taken from Text and Context written by Steven Lynn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to realize how my own voice has been suppressed. This isn't necessarily because society has rejected my voice or silenced my voice. I have had plenty of opportunities to be my true self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main culprit is my upbringing and own prejudices. I have confined myself to a world view and a "traditional" understanding of the roles of women. I don't necessarily agree with the suppression of the female's unique voice, but I feel I must morally live in this suppression (to some degree). Otherwise, I will morph into Brittney Spears or Katy Perry (the seductresses).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I struggle to decipher my own unique voice because I feel the need to submit my voice to a "traditional" understanding. I have a feminist heart with a chauvinist brain. Now that I am becoming more aware of the social prejudices and perceptions, I am asking myself who I am...and whether who I am is acceptable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4240399484712974046?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4240399484712974046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-am-woman.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4240399484712974046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4240399484712974046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-am-woman.html' title='I Am Woman'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7977948496257843541</id><published>2010-09-16T09:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T09:28:26.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving Theater</title><content type='html'>My love for theater began in high school. During graduation, I was convinced that God was calling me to pursue an acting career. After graduation, an audition ended with deep rejection. I had no concept of how to handle this humiliation. I expected the road to be smooth and carefree. When the road became difficult, I faltered and gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years later, a friend wanted me to audition with her for a community theater production. I approached Community Theater with a casual, carefree attitude. I didn’t prepare for the audition. It was a last minute decision and I didn’t even know if the production was a musical or a straight play. It ended up being Grease. My audition went terrible. My entire body was trembling. I hadn’t performed for people in a long time. I was cast as a student, no lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Midway into rehearsals, the director complimented me on my small role. She said she had misjudged my audition. She said I was more talented than she had first perceived. Other people complimented me, and I auditioned for the next play and got a speaking role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During these small community productions, my love for the theater resurfaced. Fast forward a few more years; I am now attending Taylor Upland. I was cast in two productions with speaking roles last year. I am addicted and obsessed all over again. Theater is in my veins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just auditioned for two plays tonight. The stage thrill is preventing me from sleeping. I am tossing and turning because of the expectation of a possible role. I am fearful of not being cast. My emotions are intense and my senses alert. The anticipation is painful and excruciating, but the adrenaline is intoxicating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7977948496257843541?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7977948496257843541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/loving-theater.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7977948496257843541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7977948496257843541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/loving-theater.html' title='Loving Theater'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4558496804998567920</id><published>2010-09-12T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T20:16:50.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Respect Terry Jones</title><content type='html'>Everyone is talking about Terry Jones. The media has successfully persuaded our nation to label him a nut case, a fundamentalist, an idiot, and unAmerican.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to share my honest opinion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Burning the Quran is not a Christian action. Most believers have spoken out against Terry's Burn a Quran Day, which they should. BUT, their bad mouthing and anger isn't supported by Jesus either. Christians are calling him a bigot, a nut case, and an idiot. Christian should appeal to this man as a brother in Christ, not as an idiot. Jesus wasn't big on slander and name calling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Terry Jones backed down! Reporters have failed to thank him for seeing the light. Instead they use phrases like this: "The damage is already done" or "Terry keeps changing his mind". This troubles me. They spend all this time telling him his actions are callous and insensitive. Then when he does the right thing by backing down, no one thanks him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I think many Americans want a scapegoat. I think many unknowingly side with the terrorist. Unconsciously they think Americans are hateful, evil, bigoted, and selfish. Terry Jones becomes the media's scapegoat. We can judge him by one stupid action. We can spit in his face. We can blame any terrorist attacks on his insensitivity. I want to walk up to the Obama administration and the military leaders who confronted Terry Jones and say this. "Terry Jones will have nothing to do with any attacks on soldiers and Americans. The terrorist ONLY are to blame. They kill Americans and innocent people. They fight against the freedom of religion and the freedom of speech. Must I remind you that Terry Jones never had a Quran burning. He humbled himself and submitted to powers that be. That is more than I can say for Al Qaeda&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I choose not to join the Terry Jones onslaught. I consider him a brother in Christ.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4558496804998567920?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4558496804998567920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-respect-terry-jones.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4558496804998567920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4558496804998567920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-respect-terry-jones.html' title='I Respect Terry Jones'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7511882274796998190</id><published>2010-09-08T17:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T17:39:28.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photography Trend</title><content type='html'>Photograph technology has made leaps and bounds in the last decade. Many of my friends are photographic artist. They don't simply take pictures; they edit and enhance them. I have two reactions to this practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A Positive&lt;br /&gt;Photography is more of an art than it has ever been. Plain, unnattracive photos can enter Photoshop and be transformed into a work of art! It is wonderful to look at these edited photos from the perspective of an artist. I will plug my friend &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://knaqi.zenfolio.com/"&gt;Brian&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. (Click his name to see his photography website)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A Downfall&lt;br /&gt;One thing we lose is reality. I am specifically refering to senior picture, wedding pictures, and baby pictures. Photographers take these pictures and delete imperfections, enhance colors, and apply a myriad of other tecniques. Our babies will grow up with a false representation of themselves. Lighting and editing distorts the beauty of pure nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this new trend in photography is both beautiful and dangerous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7511882274796998190?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7511882274796998190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/photography-trend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7511882274796998190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7511882274796998190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/photography-trend.html' title='Photography Trend'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6654311534901559565</id><published>2010-09-08T12:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T19:10:29.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TIflMhQrKiI/AAAAAAAAA5k/4h6uUZQQeVU/s1600/HermioneHandUp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 264px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514628271987960354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TIflMhQrKiI/AAAAAAAAA5k/4h6uUZQQeVU/s400/HermioneHandUp.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are numerous things I dislike about myself, one especially. I can't keep my mouth shut in class. I am Hermonie from the &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter &lt;/em&gt;series. The girl who always has her hand in the air, and the one who over studies and tries to sound astute. I am addicted to the front row because I love to engage the professor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it! I can't seem to control it. I will go into a class and promise myself to silence. I have an inner dialogue. "Tamara, you will let the other people in the class participate. You need not fear silence. You don't have to prove to the professor or the other students that you are smart. Keep your mouth closed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This inner dialogue fails. I really want to destroy this action! What practical steps can I take to end this blabbering? Maybe duct tape over my mouth. They say duct tape fixes everything.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://chronicle.com/article/Whats-the-Problem-With-Quiet/124258/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;A GOOD ARTICLE RELATED TO THIS POST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6654311534901559565?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6654311534901559565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/shut-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6654311534901559565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6654311534901559565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/09/shut-up.html' title='Shut Up'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TIflMhQrKiI/AAAAAAAAA5k/4h6uUZQQeVU/s72-c/HermioneHandUp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-580469070135143128</id><published>2010-08-31T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T19:35:39.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>1. Well, fall classes have started. This seems surreal to me. I have taken an entire summer off and feel timid. But, it will be routine in a couple of months.The weather is beautiful, and the college atmosphere is intoxicating. I am ready to apply myself! I am craving knowledge and homework. You may consider me mad, but I think it is simply ambition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am also writing a Christian Fantasy. I am writing chapter five currently. God has really given me grace in this pursuit. He is the author, and I am simply writing down what He gives me. It is almost like prayer. He is using this story to revel His character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My cousins had their first baby last Monday. A baby girl! She shares my middle name!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I will be turning 30 soon! I can't wait. I have always adored the age 30!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-580469070135143128?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/580469070135143128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/08/update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/580469070135143128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/580469070135143128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/08/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1740442435688833219</id><published>2010-08-10T17:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T15:20:43.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knock Knock</title><content type='html'>I dislike calling an organization and listening to a machine instead of a real person. However, I think I would rather listen to a machine than speak with a door to door salesman. I never feel safe answering the door. I don't care if the person has an identifying uniform form the company. It still feels creepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1740442435688833219?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1740442435688833219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/08/knock-knock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1740442435688833219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1740442435688833219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/08/knock-knock.html' title='Knock Knock'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3752715820855297971</id><published>2010-08-04T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T14:54:22.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diligent</title><content type='html'>A successful writer must be diligent. I have been locked away in my room, typing away on my computer. I have now written three full chapters of my Christian Fantasy. I am working on chapter four, and it is moving along rather smoothly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have confidence in this manuscript. I think it has publishing potential. I need to send it to someone who has a good eye for editing. Then I need to send some query letters, someone might take an interest in it. Crossing my fingers...oh I need those fingers for typing, so now they are uncrossed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3752715820855297971?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3752715820855297971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/08/diligent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3752715820855297971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3752715820855297971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/08/diligent.html' title='Diligent'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8248044066815420978</id><published>2010-07-28T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T17:57:39.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of Character</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-FHlvEc3vaE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-FHlvEc3vaE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually can't stand to watch dorky comedies. I find them rather annoying. However, Steve Carell has me wrapped around his finger. He makes me laugh even when the joke isn't funny. I will admit,I plan to watch his new movie, Dinner for Schmucks, as soon as it comes out. Who wants to join me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8248044066815420978?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8248044066815420978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/out-of-character.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8248044066815420978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8248044066815420978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/out-of-character.html' title='Out of Character'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4929003638666577232</id><published>2010-07-27T12:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T12:54:26.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Mummies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TE85Sorv1JI/AAAAAAAAA5U/3kxOyi5kZRc/s1600/egypt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 304px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498676662364001426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TE85Sorv1JI/AAAAAAAAA5U/3kxOyi5kZRc/s400/egypt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love to watch the History and Discovery Channel. However, I am a little miffed by the actions of some archaeologists. These men and women excavate the graves of dead Pharaohs. They analyze their findings and then place these treasures in museums. Most people know that ancient Egyptians buried their treasures with them with the belief that these treasures would follow them into the afterlife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it is disrespectful for us to disregard these beliefs and taint the burial site. I know we want to know about our past, but I can't justify disrespecting a belief of a dead person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4929003638666577232?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4929003638666577232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/poor-mummies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4929003638666577232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4929003638666577232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/poor-mummies.html' title='Poor Mummies'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TE85Sorv1JI/AAAAAAAAA5U/3kxOyi5kZRc/s72-c/egypt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1821288465769122381</id><published>2010-07-22T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T13:02:50.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Katy Perry</title><content type='html'>Does this frustrate anyone else? Talented artist and musicians who corrupt their talent by selling out. Katy Perry is one such example. She is beautiful and her voice is unique.  Her songs are catchy, but her content makes me feel sick and defiled.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are other artist out there who have talent and waste it on fleeting pleasures. Sex sells, but use your talent for something more lasting and inspirational. Even if I wasn't a Christian, I would feel this way. Katy Perry, you have talent. Don't waste it on frivolous lyrics, impure dance, and slutty dress. You don't need that to be famous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some of you may argue that Katy Perry is only famous because she is unhindered and shocks you with her lyrics. This bugs me because I hold her talent in higher value than her provocativeness. She has a unique and powerful voice. She could have made it on that alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1821288465769122381?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1821288465769122381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/katy-perry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1821288465769122381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1821288465769122381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/katy-perry.html' title='Katy Perry'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4803992988188446981</id><published>2010-07-13T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T08:57:14.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Endangered Tamarin</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HI3LgopDckg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HI3LgopDckg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never heard of these monkeys before. I suppose I have a soft spot for them because they have a name similar to mine. (I know I am weird.)Honestly, I have always hated what man has done to the rain forest, and hearing about these endangered animals fed the fire. These monkeys are beautiful, and I hope they are saved from extinction. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4803992988188446981?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4803992988188446981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/endangered-tamarin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4803992988188446981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4803992988188446981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/endangered-tamarin.html' title='Endangered Tamarin'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4058756463457720829</id><published>2010-07-08T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T12:36:23.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Narnia and the Inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hrJQDPpIK6I&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hrJQDPpIK6I&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew the new Narnia movie was coming out, so I decided to read the book. I loved it, of course. I saw the trailer, and now I can't wait for opening night. The movie looks like it might even do the book justice, and that rarely happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am extremely thankful that C.S. Lewis created a series that is touching this generation. These books have inspired me to write Christian fantasy. I hope to win the hearts of secular society by placing them in a story that delicately introduces the kingdom of Heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4058756463457720829?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4058756463457720829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/narnia-and-inspiration.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4058756463457720829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4058756463457720829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/narnia-and-inspiration.html' title='Narnia and the Inspiration'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3821728751564543598</id><published>2010-07-07T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T13:59:47.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mysterious Numb3rs</title><content type='html'>I have made it known that I am a Numb3rs addict. This is a TV show about the FBI and a consulting mathematician. I have tried everything to find out if there will be a seventh season. There are rumors that is being cancelled, but I haven't heard an official word. I googled "Numb3rs cancelled" and haven't found any definite decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be upset if it is, indeed, cancelled. But, I think not knowing is worse. If any on my blogging friends find out, please tell me. I miss my Charlie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3821728751564543598?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3821728751564543598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/mysterious-numb3rs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3821728751564543598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3821728751564543598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/07/mysterious-numb3rs.html' title='Mysterious Numb3rs'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3316653984001298506</id><published>2010-06-30T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T14:18:52.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a Twilight Fan</title><content type='html'>It is a shame that Twilight is all the rage right now. Love struck teenage girls are filling the movie theaters and giggling when Jacob takes off his shirt. Rober Pattinson, the actor who plays Edward, is plastered on every teen magazine cover. The merchandising company has gone bonkers; does anyone want an Edward or Bella Barbie doll?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I personally LOVE the Twilight series, the movies and the books. This is why I am bummed that it is all the rage. I know certain "mature" people who are mocking its popularity. Twilight is being categorized as a silly chick-flick and a fad. Critic don't think the Twilight buzz will last much longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Twilight is certainly a romance, but there is more to the story than teenage love. Powerful themes like self-sacrifice and self-control are heavily weaved into the story line. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I beg to differ with the critics. I think Twilight has the potential to be a classic, much like Christmas Carol and West Side Story. You may think I am ludicrous, but if you made that assumption, I will dare to bet that you haven't read the books. Breaking Dawn, the last book in the series, is epic! The final chapters blew me away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is a shame Hollywood has taken a story of beauty and made it about lust and money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3316653984001298506?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3316653984001298506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-am-twilight-fan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3316653984001298506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3316653984001298506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-am-twilight-fan.html' title='I am a Twilight Fan'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3054123575275900337</id><published>2010-06-29T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T12:44:01.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Plans and an Aching Back</title><content type='html'>I had planned to take a summer class online, but then I changed my mind. I decided to spend the summer trying to build my portfolio. I have been sending devotionals, articles, and short stories to various magazines and contests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making a living as a writer is very time consuming. I love every minute of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also spent numerous hours working on my novel called, The Deception. It is a Christian fantasy/romance. I have been working on chapter two for most of the day. When writer's block &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;disappears&lt;/span&gt;, I try to take &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;advantage&lt;/span&gt; of it. My eyes hurt from looking at the computer screen, and my back aches from sitting too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I am extremely pleased with the product. I'll take a walk in a few hours to ease the tension.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3054123575275900337?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3054123575275900337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/new-plans-and-aching-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3054123575275900337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3054123575275900337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/new-plans-and-aching-back.html' title='New Plans and an Aching Back'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8388928281263651203</id><published>2010-06-21T15:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T15:28:25.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Band</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TB_nPVdN0aI/AAAAAAAAA4k/SSYORwcQ05c/s1600/Trading+Yesterday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 380px; HEIGHT: 284px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485357121804292514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TB_nPVdN0aI/AAAAAAAAA4k/SSYORwcQ05c/s400/Trading+Yesterday.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found this band, Trading Yesterday. I love them!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/tradingyesterday"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LINK TO BAND PAGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8388928281263651203?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8388928281263651203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/great-band.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8388928281263651203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8388928281263651203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/great-band.html' title='Great Band'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/TB_nPVdN0aI/AAAAAAAAA4k/SSYORwcQ05c/s72-c/Trading+Yesterday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5517155556936259960</id><published>2010-06-12T17:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T17:59:04.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Devotion</title><content type='html'>I respect my dad for his faithfulness. People are getting divorced for trivial reasons. But, my dad made a vow to stay faithful to my mother for better or worse and in sickness and health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has kept that vow. I know watching my mother slip into dark insanity is never easy for him. I am sure he has deep wounds of disappointment, and he struggles with loneliness. Despite his trials, he has continued to love and serve my mother. How do you thank a father for such sacrifice and faithfulness?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5517155556936259960?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5517155556936259960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/devotion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5517155556936259960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5517155556936259960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/devotion.html' title='Devotion'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-6056318143164326525</id><published>2010-06-01T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T16:46:05.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy</title><content type='html'>I love my mom! I wouldn't change her for the world, but at the same time our relationship is difficult. My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. Her illness hinders us from having a normal mother/daughter relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in the play Crimes of the Heart, I had to deal with some inner hurts. The two actresses who were in the play with me have close relationships with their mothers. Watching their mothers support them, love them, and converse with them hurt me a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times I crave a normal relationship with my mother. I can't talk to her about my day, my relationships, my dreams, or my outfits. She can't carry on a lucid conversation for more than one minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know having a mother who is mentally ill has made me who I am today. The small triumphs are worth the bumpy ride. I have deep compassion for people who are categorized as odd, crazy, different, or an outcast. I know my mother has made me a better person. But, there are moments I miss the girl talks with my mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-6056318143164326525?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/6056318143164326525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/mommy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6056318143164326525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/6056318143164326525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/06/mommy.html' title='Mommy'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7615138456248648918</id><published>2010-05-20T17:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T18:03:48.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight Loss</title><content type='html'>People in the entertainment industry get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accused&lt;/span&gt; of being vain and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;obsessed&lt;/span&gt; with image. I admit that Hollywood puts too much emphasis on physical &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;appearance&lt;/span&gt;. However, some of that image emphasis is acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Hank's role in Cast Away is a perfect example. The character that Tom Hanks played was overweight and then stranded on an island. While stranded on an island, he lost a significant amount of weight. This role required that he gain weight and loose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acting is a job. It happens to be a job that requires women to be beautiful and attractive. It happens to be a job that requires men to be tall, dark, and handsome. I think the image obsession comes with the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulimia and anerexia are serious illnesses. There are actresses and actors that put themselves in danger. I don't encourage these behaviors. But, I do understand the need to loose 10 pounds to win the lead in the broadway musical.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7615138456248648918?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7615138456248648918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/weight-loss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7615138456248648918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7615138456248648918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/weight-loss.html' title='Weight Loss'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3988704328948501491</id><published>2010-05-18T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T18:27:03.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies that Move Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ypMp0s5Hiw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ypMp0s5Hiw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have watched numerous movies about the Holocaust. These movies are often heartbreaking and dark, but the reality of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Holocaust&lt;/span&gt; compels me to face these atrocities. One way I do this is by watching movies that present the truth, even when violence is involved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Most Holocaust movies remind us that the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;soldiers&lt;/span&gt; and governmental authorities worked in secrecy. Millions of Jews were killed because of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;propaganda, lies, and false hopes&lt;/span&gt;. They never believed such evils would be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;committed&lt;/span&gt;. These realistic movies warn all who live apathetically.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I recently watched The Boy in the Stripped Pajamas, and this movie powerfully reveals this truth. It was difficult to watch, but the message was phenomenal. I have added it to my favorite movies' list. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3988704328948501491?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3988704328948501491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/movies-move-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3988704328948501491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3988704328948501491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/movies-move-me.html' title='Movies that Move Me'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4689020081573108368</id><published>2010-05-14T12:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T12:51:33.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Taste of Theater</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2o0kFOrII/AAAAAAAAA4I/-PVkZgI8Qus/s1600/Threesis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214743317294210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2o0kFOrII/AAAAAAAAA4I/-PVkZgI8Qus/s400/Threesis.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cast for Crimes of the Heart was a small group. Four girls and two guys. I was blessed to work with Amy and Audrey! We were like sister, on stage and off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2otpP55nI/AAAAAAAAA4A/iKx-f_vfTmQ/s1600/screaming.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214624445163122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2otpP55nI/AAAAAAAAA4A/iKx-f_vfTmQ/s400/screaming.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2opi4TAsI/AAAAAAAAA34/PcNe-BJtMsM/s1600/Don%27tsnap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214554016056002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2opi4TAsI/AAAAAAAAA34/PcNe-BJtMsM/s400/Don%27tsnap.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister Meg is scolding me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2olvzUe-I/AAAAAAAAA3w/j2QJ6h-mlLk/s1600/depressed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214488765365218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2olvzUe-I/AAAAAAAAA3w/j2QJ6h-mlLk/s400/depressed.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life sure is miserable for the Margraths!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2og-3BSPI/AAAAAAAAA3o/tQWVAQqba1o/s1600/chick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214406908070130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2og-3BSPI/AAAAAAAAA3o/tQWVAQqba1o/s400/chick.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbor is somewhat demanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2odH5RVtI/AAAAAAAAA3g/mABJjPkJB7c/s1600/broomstick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214340613953234" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2odH5RVtI/AAAAAAAAA3g/mABJjPkJB7c/s400/broomstick.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to chase her out of the house with a broom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2oZECI__I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/RGCRddIM6Ns/s1600/Birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471214270857936882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2oZECI__I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/RGCRddIM6Ns/s400/Birthday.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lenny loves to make wishes on her birthday candles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4689020081573108368?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4689020081573108368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/little-taste-of-theater.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4689020081573108368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4689020081573108368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/little-taste-of-theater.html' title='A Little Taste of Theater'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S-2o0kFOrII/AAAAAAAAA4I/-PVkZgI8Qus/s72-c/Threesis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3150720660426678916</id><published>2010-05-02T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T09:11:13.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Gift, Not a Talent</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S92jPqxDeGI/AAAAAAAAA24/2_kjDCM17nU/s1600/writing-center.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 270px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466705012271052898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S92jPqxDeGI/AAAAAAAAA24/2_kjDCM17nU/s400/writing-center.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years before I decided to return to college I found my old grade cards from elementary school. Most of these grade cards had comments about my creative writing ability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year before I decided to return to college my grandmother past away. My first grade teacher came to the funeral. She started up a conversation. She told me she remembered reading some of my stories. She told me she was impressed by my writing gift. This inspired me to return to college&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am at Taylor University majoring in Professional Writing. After my performance of Crimes of the Heart, I went out to the lobby to "meet and greet." My second grade teacher came to the performance. I told her my major, and she laughed and said she KNEW I would be a writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These encounters confirm that my writing ability is a gift, not a talent. If I impressed teacher at that young of an age, it wasn't because I caused it. It was given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am looking out for my third grade teacher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3150720660426678916?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3150720660426678916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/gift-not-talent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3150720660426678916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3150720660426678916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/05/gift-not-talent.html' title='A Gift, Not a Talent'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S92jPqxDeGI/AAAAAAAAA24/2_kjDCM17nU/s72-c/writing-center.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1725830328628648628</id><published>2010-04-13T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T20:18:11.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filming on a Roof</title><content type='html'>When I first attended college in Evansville, my aspiration was to become an actress. HONESTLY! I auditioned for their theater department,. I fell in love with theater in high school. One of my high school directors encouraged me to pursue acting. I wanted to make it my life's work. Maybe I was a little naive and wide-eyed. But, it has always been a dream of mine, a real passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I acted for a student film assignment. The story was about suicide, beauty, and regret. I had sooooo much fun. I loved hearing 1 2 3 action. I loved doing the same scene over and over until the shot was just right. I liked posing for the various camera angles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This project pushed me out of my comfort zone. The female ends up committing suicide by jumping off a building. I am AFRAID of heights. I fought this fear and stood near the edge of the roof. It was exhilarating! By the way, I didn't jump. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream is being realized. I am doing what I love!! Crimes of the Heart (Taylor University's Spring Production) opens April 23rd. I am playing an amazing character named Lenny. Thank you Lord for giving me this opportunity; I won't take it for granted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1725830328628648628?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1725830328628648628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/filming-on-roof.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1725830328628648628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1725830328628648628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/filming-on-roof.html' title='Filming on a Roof'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-929804440240833808</id><published>2010-04-10T18:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T18:42:06.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Come True</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/inx0anlEbp0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/inx0anlEbp0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is extremely creepy. But, it really happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream two days ago that featured a woman. I had NEVER seen this women before. This dream was very vivid. I had it two days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was looking through movie trailers to find a decent movie to watch, and the woman I dreamed about was in the trailer above! No joke! The exact woman! The main female character, Mercy, was in my dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the movie is rated R. I try not to watch R rated movies. Should I watch this movie? Creepy, very creepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-929804440240833808?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/929804440240833808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/dream-come-true.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/929804440240833808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/929804440240833808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/dream-come-true.html' title='Dream Come True'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8131411051066824071</id><published>2010-04-01T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T14:04:23.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Weq_sHxghcg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Weq_sHxghcg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I almost got too offended to watch this video; I am glad I watched the whole thing. I think you will like it as well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8131411051066824071?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8131411051066824071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/great-video.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8131411051066824071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8131411051066824071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/great-video.html' title='Great Video'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-344274008125422843</id><published>2010-04-01T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T10:51:53.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coincidences</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S7TdGTLiNKI/AAAAAAAAA2g/RC7Sj6O46pI/s1600/aces.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455228148950119586" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S7TdGTLiNKI/AAAAAAAAA2g/RC7Sj6O46pI/s400/aces.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S7TdDHQkt_I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/YR-faSZfZZI/s1600/trojans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455228094210422770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S7TdDHQkt_I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/YR-faSZfZZI/s400/trojans.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found out today that Taylor University in Upland has the same school colors as the University of Evansville, purple and gold. This is not a huge deal, and I suppose it is even silly to point it out. However, it made me giggle slightly. Coincidences are funny things.&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/7414240832700387312-344274008125422843?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/344274008125422843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/coincidences.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/344274008125422843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/344274008125422843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/04/coincidences.html' title='Coincidences'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S7TdGTLiNKI/AAAAAAAAA2g/RC7Sj6O46pI/s72-c/aces.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2190426020052811122</id><published>2010-03-09T14:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T15:17:44.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>David and Marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m1XraCrp500&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m1XraCrp500&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David Krumholtz's character, Charlie Epps, will be getting hitched in the next Numb3r's episode. My dad has been teasing me because he knows I am not quite comfortable with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like when shows follow the norm. You meet your main character, then he or she starts liking someone, then he or she struggles with liking that someone, then they eventually date, then they get engaged, and then they marry. It is rather annoyingly predictable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie Epps was more interesting when he was engrossed in his mathematics. He shouldn't be a sappy romantic, but a math nerd. I am pleased that Don Epps has avoided marriage due to his career. But, he is currently in a relationship and has mentioned marriage. Single people are much more interesting in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to buy the second season of Numb3rs for only $20.00!! This was a deal!! Now I can watch my favorite season whenever I want. It is my favorite season because it was the season when Charlie's hair was at its best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2190426020052811122?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2190426020052811122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/03/david-and-marriage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2190426020052811122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2190426020052811122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/03/david-and-marriage.html' title='David and Marriage'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8368742723657740388</id><published>2010-03-04T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T12:10:19.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crimes of the Heart</title><content type='html'>I am in shock! I was cast in the spring production, Crimes of the Heart. Everyone who auditioned did such a wonderful job. I am honored and humbled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent last night tossing and turning. I kept analyzing how I would cast the show. My heart was pounding most of the day today. I kept walking by the bulletin, hoping to see the cast list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear friends, Justin and Janelle, approached me with smiles on their faces. I didn't want to believe I got cast. They handed me the cast list, with my name on it, and then proceeded to give me a huge hug! Theater people are the best peeople!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am welling up with joy, but I also realize I owe a great show to those who were not cast. Many of them were well qualified to play the role.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8368742723657740388?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8368742723657740388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/03/crimes-of-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8368742723657740388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8368742723657740388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/03/crimes-of-heart.html' title='Crimes of the Heart'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-7817337404971137862</id><published>2010-03-01T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T20:17:46.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Paid Publication</title><content type='html'>I received a paycheck for a short script that was formualted from a devotional I wrote. It was aired on the radio station WBCL. To hear the actual broadcast, you need to follow these three instuctions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Follow this link: &lt;a href="http://www.taylor.edu/experience/fp.shtml"&gt;http://www.taylor.edu/experience/fp.shtml&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Once the page loads, scroll down until you see this: 02.25.2010 Majestic Silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Click on the audio icon and enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-7817337404971137862?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/7817337404971137862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/03/first-paid-publication.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7817337404971137862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/7817337404971137862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/03/first-paid-publication.html' title='First Paid Publication'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1072759166486145963</id><published>2010-02-23T15:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T15:57:05.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hippolytus Pictures</title><content type='html'>Here are some pictures of me from the play, Hippolytus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpS836tiI/AAAAAAAAA14/vToXkU9mpik/s1600-h/Nurse8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441590024069625378" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpS836tiI/AAAAAAAAA14/vToXkU9mpik/s400/Nurse8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am being cruel and manipulative toward Phaedra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4Rpjx6_DwI/AAAAAAAAA2I/AP-RHM7bRyA/s1600-h/Nurse10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441590313187479298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4Rpjx6_DwI/AAAAAAAAA2I/AP-RHM7bRyA/s400/Nurse10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am asking for forgiveness for my cruelty and manipulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpuMq3xaI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/qlLDa4l2xv4/s1600-h/Nurse9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441590492166342050" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpuMq3xaI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/qlLDa4l2xv4/s400/Nurse9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am not being forgiven for my cruelty and manipulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpcsDkDWI/AAAAAAAAA2A/KzT8ZLDDiDw/s1600-h/Cast+Photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441590191353761122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpcsDkDWI/AAAAAAAAA2A/KzT8ZLDDiDw/s400/Cast+Photo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the entire cast. Everyone was sweet and humorous. I had an amazing time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1072759166486145963?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1072759166486145963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/hippolytus-pictures.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1072759166486145963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1072759166486145963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/hippolytus-pictures.html' title='Hippolytus Pictures'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S4RpS836tiI/AAAAAAAAA14/vToXkU9mpik/s72-c/Nurse8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5402065331230094571</id><published>2010-02-20T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T12:32:32.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Song Analysis</title><content type='html'>This wasn't fast or easy, but I enjoyed filling it out. It would be neat if others posted this on their blogs. Below are some songs that describe or remind me of other people in my life and some other goodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONGS THAT DESCRIBE OR REMIND YOU OF….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU: Time of My Life by David Cook&lt;br /&gt;THE DAY YOU HAD TODAY: On Fire by Switchfoot&lt;br /&gt;YOUR MOTHER: Unwell by Matchbox20&lt;br /&gt;YOUR FATHER Someday by Rob Thomas&lt;br /&gt;YOUR SIBLINGS:&lt;br /&gt;My older sister, Lisa- I’ll Turn to You by Christina Aguilera&lt;br /&gt;My twin brother- You are Loved (Don’t Give Up) by Josh Groban&lt;br /&gt;My younger sister, Debbie - The Special Two by Missy Higgins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOUR BEST FRIEND: (Rachel Whiteley) You Found Me by Kelly Clarkson&lt;br /&gt;GOD: You’re Beautiful by Phil Wickham&lt;br /&gt;YOUR FIRST LOVE: Doth I Protest Too Much by Alanis Morissette&lt;br /&gt;EX-BOYFRIEND: No Surprise by Daughtry&lt;br /&gt;BOYFRIEND: Uninvited by Alanis Moritssette…I don’t have a boyfriend!&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: Beloved by Tenth Avenue North&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONGS THAT MAKE YOU…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CRY: What Hurts the Most by Rascal Flatts, Heaven in the Eyes by Steven Curtis Chapmen, Goodbye my Lover by James Blunt&lt;br /&gt;ANNOYED: Bringing Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONGS YOU DANCE TO: Single Ladies by Beyonce, Pump It by Black Eyed Peas&lt;br /&gt;IF SOMEONE WERE TO DEDICATE A SONG TO YOU, WHAT SONG WOULD YOU WANT THEM TO REQUEST? Hand Me Down by Matchbox Twenty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5402065331230094571?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5402065331230094571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/song-analysis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5402065331230094571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5402065331230094571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/song-analysis.html' title='Song Analysis'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-1124436354156367763</id><published>2010-02-20T10:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T10:24:18.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Things Taylor</title><content type='html'>The next theater production for Taylor University will be &lt;em&gt;Crimes of the Heart&lt;/em&gt;. Auditions are on March 1st and 2nd. Yes, I am auditioning. I am anxious because I desperately want to be a part of this production. I had a dream last night that I was cast as one of the roles. This is proof it has been on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My classes are going well too! Thanks to friends and family, I am working towards a degree in Professional Writing. I am becoming Anne Shirley, just like I always wanted...minus the orphan experience, becoming a teacher, and marrying Gilbert Blythe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be entering some of my materials in contest and sending other manuscripts for possible publication! I will let my blog family know if anything wins or is published. Maybe the Rollings Reliable Baking Powder Company will be interested in one of my manuscripts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-1124436354156367763?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/1124436354156367763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-things-taylor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1124436354156367763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/1124436354156367763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-things-taylor.html' title='All Things Taylor'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2455835217763830446</id><published>2010-02-19T22:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T22:20:15.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mona Lisa Smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YkEMidk05iQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YkEMidk05iQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awhile back a friend suggested I watch Mona Lisa Smile starring Julia Roberts. I finally got around to watching it. I LOVED IT!!!! This movie will rank high on my favortie movie list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2455835217763830446?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2455835217763830446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/mona-lisa-smie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2455835217763830446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2455835217763830446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/mona-lisa-smie.html' title='Mona Lisa Smile'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4168161287330282759</id><published>2010-02-19T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T13:04:10.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Will Never Be a Successful Journalist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S377784NihI/AAAAAAAAA1o/ZPPr6jrznZo/s1600-h/news.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 339px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440062407282887186" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S377784NihI/AAAAAAAAA1o/ZPPr6jrznZo/s400/news.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This whole event with Tiger Woods has left a yucky taste in my mouth. The paparazzi always goes too far. Why did Tiger Woods give a press conference? He cheated on his wife. He doesn't have to explain it to the nation! I don't want to know about the sexual deviance of any man. That is private bedroom talk. Apologize to your wife; do not apologize to a room full of reporters with flashing cameras!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a Basic Reporting class a year ago. I learned that reporting about a celebrity is different than reporting about your average Joe. Apparently, famous people forfeits their rights for privacy because they choose to be in the public eye. This is an actual reporting law. I don't approve of this law; everyone deserves to be treated fairly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always struggled with journalism. Today's headlines are trash and junk. To be a successful journalist, you have to sell your soul. (sarcasm) I will never be a successful reporter because I believe everyone should be treated with respect, no matter what they did. I hope I can make my money writing labels for the backs of ketchup jars. It would be more rewarding than winning a Pulitzer for destroying a person's reputation and life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4168161287330282759?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4168161287330282759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/why-i-will-never-be-successful.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4168161287330282759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4168161287330282759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/02/why-i-will-never-be-successful.html' title='Why I Will Never Be a Successful Journalist'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_odKR2LbQ404/S377784NihI/AAAAAAAAA1o/ZPPr6jrznZo/s72-c/news.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4506335479958390636</id><published>2010-01-24T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T20:09:09.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clothing Observation</title><content type='html'>If I order a super-sized meal at the drive-thru, I expect to pay a little extra. This makes sense because I am purchasing more. It seems obvious that my meal will cost more when I super-size it.&lt;br /&gt;This logic doesn't continue when it comes to clothing. A size 10 pair of jeans cost the same amount as a size 15 pair of jeans. In fact, these larger size jeans cost the same as a size 4 pair of jeans. I am gettting more for my money, if I buy the larger size. More material!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is incentive for me to gain more weight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4506335479958390636?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4506335479958390636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/clothing-observation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4506335479958390636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4506335479958390636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/clothing-observation.html' title='Clothing Observation'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4665644961156392058</id><published>2010-01-21T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T20:10:43.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stage Adrenaline</title><content type='html'>I had play practice tonight. I can't describe my joy. For a couple of years, I was in distress because I wasn't on stage. Now I have returned, and it feels amazing. I get such an adrenaline rush when I am on stage. I love the role I was cast to play. The nurse (my role) is full of depth and dynamics. I hope my friends will make the trip to Upland to watch my performance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4665644961156392058?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4665644961156392058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/stage-adrenaline.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4665644961156392058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4665644961156392058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/stage-adrenaline.html' title='Stage Adrenaline'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5429583227149236932</id><published>2010-01-11T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T15:07:43.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage Conversation</title><content type='html'>This is a recounting of a short conversation I had with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend: Doesn't it bother you that many of your friends are married and you are not?&lt;br /&gt;Myself: No, it bothers me that many of my friends are divorced.&lt;br /&gt;Friend: Oh...good point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5429583227149236932?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5429583227149236932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/marriage-conversation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5429583227149236932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5429583227149236932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/marriage-conversation.html' title='Marriage Conversation'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-3870713235743109848</id><published>2010-01-11T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T13:14:13.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home is Where Again?</title><content type='html'>At the present moment I live in four different houses. I have keys to three of these houses, and by next week I will have the fourth.&lt;br /&gt;I buy food I can transport. This way I don't disrupt my host's dinner plans, if I happen to stay overnight. I keep a suitcase of toiletries and clothes in my car at all times.&lt;br /&gt;I never know where I will lay my head down because the winter weather is unpredictable. If the weather makes it difficult to travel, I usually drive to my closest residence.&lt;br /&gt;This is bizarre!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-3870713235743109848?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/3870713235743109848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/home-is-where-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3870713235743109848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/3870713235743109848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/home-is-where-again.html' title='Home is Where Again?'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-4209768418693999815</id><published>2010-01-07T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T10:26:17.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carpenter</title><content type='html'>I am in a play that requires each actor or actress work 10 hours on the set. Yesterday I cut wood with a mechanical saw. I also measured wood, and screwed the wood together with a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mechanical&lt;/span&gt; screw driver.&lt;br /&gt;At first I was fearful and unsure of myself, but I overcame that fear. I actually enjoyed myself after I dealt with the butterflies in my stomach. Try new things! After the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;uncertainty&lt;/span&gt; is passed, you will learn something new and feel accomplished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-4209768418693999815?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/4209768418693999815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/carpenter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4209768418693999815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/4209768418693999815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2010/01/carpenter.html' title='Carpenter'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-5089503764977872157</id><published>2009-12-28T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T07:57:01.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologetic</title><content type='html'>I always feel like I am a burden or an inconvenience to others. Anyone else? I want to know the root of this behavior. Insecurity? Issues with past abandonment? Fear of men?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever call someone, these are the first words out of my mouth: "Is this a bad time?" Even though they tell me it isn't a bad time, I still speak fast to make sure I am not keeping them from something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I call my boss, I always apologize. He reminds me that I am not a bother. He wants me to call him when I need supplies or help. I still apologize. I even struggle to call him in the first place. If it is early, I always ask him if I woke him up, which is never the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone needs help because no man/woman is an island. I know this in my mind, but my heart faints. I live in needless fear because I don't expect others to be compassionate or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accommodating&lt;/span&gt;. But my friends and family ARE compassionate and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accommodating&lt;/span&gt;. I should &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; love and support, and overcome the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pressure&lt;/span&gt; to apologize all the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-5089503764977872157?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/5089503764977872157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2009/12/apologetic.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5089503764977872157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/5089503764977872157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2009/12/apologetic.html' title='Apologetic'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-2785183934437406165</id><published>2009-12-19T17:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T17:40:27.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Depression</title><content type='html'>I hate winter. The first good snowfall happened today. Tonight, I drove through the mess. I don't know how I will survive this cold season. My job requires a lot of driving, and I also drive 30 minutes to my college. I have a huge fear of driving in snow, even when the road aren't too slippery. I am simply paranoid I will wreck my car during the winter. I am not ready for winter; I never am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-2785183934437406165?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/2785183934437406165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2009/12/winter-depression.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2785183934437406165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/2785183934437406165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2009/12/winter-depression.html' title='Winter Depression'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414240832700387312.post-8357172968772900704</id><published>2009-12-18T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T19:39:25.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Link Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://lab.andre-michelle.com/tonematrix"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;for a load of musical fun. Click the squares, and create a melody!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7414240832700387312-8357172968772900704?l=peachypath.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/feeds/8357172968772900704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2009/12/best-link-ever.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8357172968772900704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7414240832700387312/posts/default/8357172968772900704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peachypath.blogspot.com/2009/12/best-link-ever.html' title='Best Link Ever'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901668354272963305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFIfEvlbCYA/TzXEd9ITuuI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/fnxgIeZiC0o/s220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
