<?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-1017562116124752197</id><updated>2011-10-20T20:03:14.570-06:00</updated><title type='text'>happiness. hobbies. heart.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-8950592370115630898</id><published>2011-05-17T20:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T20:53:44.693-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y6wnX86i07A/TdM0Zh9xRlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/5x3Fxqn4ru4/s1600/Picture+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y6wnX86i07A/TdM0Zh9xRlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/5x3Fxqn4ru4/s200/Picture+14.jpg" width="147" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A quote to live by...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"           &lt;style&gt;@font-face {  font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;i&gt;There are seasons in life.&lt;/i&gt; Don't ever let anyone deny you the blessings and joy of one season because they believe you should &lt;i&gt;be in&lt;/i&gt;—or &lt;i&gt;stay in&lt;/i&gt;—another season." -Jane Clayson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-8950592370115630898?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/8950592370115630898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=8950592370115630898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/8950592370115630898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/8950592370115630898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2011/05/quote-to-live-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y6wnX86i07A/TdM0Zh9xRlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/5x3Fxqn4ru4/s72-c/Picture+14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-4073186061785059074</id><published>2011-05-17T20:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T20:37:50.292-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Change of pace. Change of lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/jdlTt3E7w4Y/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jdlTt3E7w4Y&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jdlTt3E7w4Y&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt; One thing to keep in mind before I rant and rave too much. This stage of my life really is good and as One Republic puts it "Day turns to night, night turns to whatever we want, We're young enough to say Oh this has gotta be the good life"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And this won't be the last change either. I recently graduated (well I walked but with 4 credits to finish before August I'm practically done). Found a great internship near my grandpa's house so I'm living with him and working part time on the weekends. Until I establish a more solid social life up here I tend to make frequent trips down to the college town to meet up with old roommates, cousins, and the man in my love life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sundays I've learned can be far more lonely than I had imagined. Contrary to the happy post I made previously watching Little Women with the roomies, I now read...and read and eat and nap and read. All in a quiet house only interrupted occasionally by talks with gramps or chats with my other cousin living with us. Boohoo you might say. Why complain about that? Well I shouldn't complain. It's a great setup and I enjoy helping out grandpa and having my own room. The loneliness will abate with time I am confident. And the more confidence I find in myself and my independent abilities to fill empty spaces of time will further expedite the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;List of things to accomplish/stay busy with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find a job for the fall (#1 priority)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make new friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Build relationship with cousin and grandpa&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exercise regularly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yard maintenance (might be a long time before I live somewhere with a yard again)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Read (currently reading &lt;i&gt;I am a Mother&lt;/i&gt; by Jane Clayson, and &lt;i&gt;The Book Thief &lt;/i&gt;by Markus Zusak)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Improve my cooking skills&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;We'll see how far I get with these before adding anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing I learned when feeling down or unmotivated it's good to plan fun activities regularly to keep yourself optimistic and excited for the immediate future which will then help you to be more proactive in establishing an exciting long term future.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-4073186061785059074?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4073186061785059074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=4073186061785059074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/4073186061785059074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/4073186061785059074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2011/05/change-of-pace.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-7085278017129881579</id><published>2011-03-20T22:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T22:38:47.004-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8VHsXgLyDdo/TYbAr3x_lHI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ecmtjjpSbHY/s1600/Picture+37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8VHsXgLyDdo/TYbAr3x_lHI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ecmtjjpSbHY/s320/Picture+37.jpg" width="278" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sunday afternoons can be beautiful times to delve into childhood dreams that have followed you through young adulthood. When I first saw Laurie kiss Jo I began to daydream about my own first kiss. I dreamed of laughing and dancing with a guy who became more than a friend. The family and friends encircling Meg's marriage gazebo launched fantasies of my own wedding one day. Some of these dreams have come to pass but still some are yet to be. Every time I saw Beth's death scene I pondered on my own feelings around my sister's death. And Marmee was always so wise and knew just what to say to not only comfort but empower her girls, just like my mom has always done. While no Christian Bale has ever besottedly watched me from next door, and I have yet to be surprised with a kiss on a bench in scenic England, I have dabbled in discovering potential young love and learned to turn heartache into bittersweet optimism for the future. I have learned that writing can be the most rewarding listener when other sources fail. "Time brings change, and change takes time".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-7085278017129881579?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/7085278017129881579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=7085278017129881579' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/7085278017129881579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/7085278017129881579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2011/03/sunday-afternoons-can-be-beautiful.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8VHsXgLyDdo/TYbAr3x_lHI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ecmtjjpSbHY/s72-c/Picture+37.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-3175578416477339038</id><published>2011-01-21T19:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T19:29:54.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Into the wide deep &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TTpAEEPllvI/AAAAAAAAAD0/uj8uxM_vkV0/s1600/Picture+17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="226" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TTpAEEPllvI/AAAAAAAAAD0/uj8uxM_vkV0/s320/Picture+17.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not particularly fond of diving boards, or cliffs, or drops on roller coasters. I am fond of wide open spaces, well with maybe a few scattered gas stations or Walmarts, so I guess I'm fond of open spaces...bordering a suburb but regardless I appreciate solidity. A commodity not usually found in those thrilling activities above. It is for this reason that, after having a wide open but comfortable space living in the same town and doing the same thing for the past four years, I hesitate to take that step toward the diving boards of real adult life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am walking at graduation in April. I will receive my degree in the mail in August. Swimming lessons not included. Between now and then I must find an internship and...start the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marriage? Graduate school? Mission? All more comfortable options with specific structure and relative predictability. However, I have chosen the path that leads to the cliffs of exciting apprehension and hallways of unopened doors. True, it is the best time to discover myself and with all my possibilities laid out in front of me how could I not run toward it. How could I not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TTpAK_Ah7-I/AAAAAAAAAD4/jn9CGFZlcqw/s1600/Picture+19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="191" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TTpAK_Ah7-I/AAAAAAAAAD4/jn9CGFZlcqw/s320/Picture+19.jpg" width="320" /&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/1017562116124752197-3175578416477339038?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3175578416477339038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=3175578416477339038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3175578416477339038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3175578416477339038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-not-particularly-fond-of-diving.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TTpAEEPllvI/AAAAAAAAAD0/uj8uxM_vkV0/s72-c/Picture+17.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-6427994286852430701</id><published>2010-12-08T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T15:32:10.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interview with Dad, former reporter for KDLH TV</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAEnAbghjI/AAAAAAAAADk/HqrePqnBFdg/s1600/Picture+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="304" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAEnAbghjI/AAAAAAAAADk/HqrePqnBFdg/s320/Picture+3.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My dad reporting outside Boise Cascade in Duluth, MN &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: This is the John Gagnon Oral History Project, session number one with Mr. Gagnon on November 26. We’re near his home, 10670 Blackhawk Dr. Boise, Idaho in the café of Hastings bookstore. The interviewer is Kristin Gagnon, Brigham Young University.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: You were born February 5, 1961 in Minneapolis?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: St. Paul actually.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: What sparked your interest in broadcasting at BYU?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: It goes back to when I was a junior in high school involved in speech and debate. My speech teacher Mr. Langly told me, “John if you don’t get into broadcasting you’re going to kick yourself down the road”. He though my writing was good with descriptions and adverbial phrases and so I did a piece on a funeral director who was our bishop, Bishop Farmer back in St. Louis and it was such a fun thing to do. I interviewed him, asked him all the question and wove all his answers into a description about being a mortician. I loved the piece and I got the best grade in the class. The teacher even held it up and told everyone how good it was. I learned so many important things and myths about being a mortician. He loved his career as a mortician and this was traditionally not the case because drunks and other being usually took the job because of what you’re doing getting through all the dead bodies. He told all of his close friends and relatives that he wanted to do their embalming for them because he takes great pride in how they look in the casket. The coloration for the skin and hair, he just makes them look really beautiful. I felt the spirit as I was listening to that because it’s just such a sacred thing anyway.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAGnEDWjEI/AAAAAAAAADs/8ZOyrpc6R9c/s1600/Mom+and+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Gagnon, K: How did you get the job at KDLH TV?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: I did an internship, as it was part of the degree to do an internship. As I was approaching the last semester I signed up for an internship back in Minnesota at KLDH TV at Duluth and I think I spent the summer with them at least for a couple months. They were happy to do it, I made arrangements ahead of time, told them I’d be interested in coming up there. I had some ideas for stories that they and I were excited about. At the end of that they told me I had a job with them if I was interested when I was done at BYU. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: As opposed to how they do it online today how were you able to find that internship back then?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: I’m trying to think how I found out. That’s a good question. There wasn’t anybody that helped me or any resources in that way. I don’t even remember but it seems like maybe I had a connection before I called. I’d been in Minnesota a lot and been through Duluth and seen the station. Maybe I knew someone during my time there that was connected to the station and they referred me. I stayed with grandma like I usually did for the summers. There weren’t any previous students that had worked for them. I just had the Minnesota connection with relatives on the iron range and they loved to have interns like anyone does because there was stuff for them to do. They didn’t have to pay them anything. It was much more common back then to have unpaid internships at least for broadcasting. There were a couple of reporters that interned there that got hired by KDLH and others that found work elsewhere. It was a small station, the 120&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; market. Maybe in Minneapolis they would have given you something for working but at KDLH there wasn’t any pay. I knew the station because it came through to grandma’s house. I wanted to get back to the family there so it all seemed to work. I didn’t’ want to go back to where my mom lived in St. Louse because it was a much bigger market and what dictated my decision was my desire to be closer to relatives and be kind of rural and small versus the big time. It was a more emotional decision. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: What were some of the first stories you worked on?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAGnEDWjEI/AAAAAAAAADs/8ZOyrpc6R9c/s1600/Mom+and+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: One of the first ones was the Hullrust Mine, in Hibbing, Minnesota. They were having some kind of anniversary. Supposedly the world’s deepest mine. So it was a lot of fun and my first one. I had heard of iron mining because all my relatives were minors so I knew the industry a little but to be right there interviewing, reporter standup as we call it. This was as an intern and I really liked the story a lot. The first stories I did when I was hired was on seminary program. I talked to my producer and I said. “Hey what if I had a story idea where you’ve got 15 teenagers getting up at 6am to study the bible” and he said, “No way that’s great. Sounds awesome”. I was assigned to the adolescent beat when I got there because everyone got assigned to a beat. I was probably older there because I had been on a mission. I was roughly the medium age in the station. I was about 22 years old. I did a couple others stories about youth programs and I liked that because it wasn’t spot news. I didn’t really like that news that you had to go and get quickly and ask questions and get it on the air. Fast breaking news. I was more feature kind of pieces. One of the other ones I did was on a girl that tried to collect several million pop can tabs and if she did that she would get a huge donation for a kidney transplant that her or someone needed. SO the whole community collected these pop can tabs and somehow they recycled those and she got some serious money for that and it was just a great story. I got to meet the girl and you could just tell she was struggling and in treatment and then I interview the community leaders and school officials. It was just a feel good story. I had to travel about 90 miles to Northern Wisconsin. There was a KDLH news truck that we used. I was assigned to cover a murder or some of those kinds of stories and I didn’t like those. That’s why they assigned me the adolescent beat and county government, entrepreneurial businesses. I did a lot of stories in Northern Minnesota with these cottage industries they called them. That was a lot of fun. You could take time and be more creative and expressive with those kind of stories as apposed to bare bones and you had 20 seconds and here’s the source and you’re done. That was not my cup of tea. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: Do you notice any major difference in the way reporters cover a story on the news today?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: You know I don’t watch a lot and I’ve seen maybe a couple of dozen since that time. I haven’t watched a lot. I can tell the ones that haven’t done it a lot that they’re kind of new. A lot of clichés which you find in this business. I did that a lot too because that’s what you rely on. Phrases you use to wrap up stories. For instance I did a story on Bob Dylan and his boyhood home was in Hibbing, Minnesota. So I ended the piece by saying, “But whether body Dylan will ever rise again in popularity, the answer is blowing in the wind”. We were encouraged at least a BYU to avoid that kind of stuff. They were about fundamentals. Avoid getting into a cutesy habit like that. Or they will end with simple information like the “press conference will end at 5pm” and you’re like so what, give me the story with a creative take home message as opposed to facts as what was happening. We were told to avoid that at BYU and that stuck with me. I avoided that like the plague. Don’t end with information that an anchor could end with as they bring the story back. Why waste airspace telling those minute details. I do watch stories now with a critical eye. Its hard not to. I watch how the sound bites are tied in. It’s a sign of a novice that a person will lead into the sound bite basically reviewing what the sound bite will say because it’s redundant. You just wasted airtime. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: How did the hours affect your family life?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: That’s partially the reason I got out. Those first few years I missed every birthday, wife’s birthday, thanksgiving. Your mom and I were talking about what we did for thanksgiving then and she said “well you were in the newsroom” and what about Christmas and new years day? “You were in the newsroom”. Especially the day after the holidays because they had to rely on someone that didn’t drink that could get up and cover the next day. A designated reporter. And most of them were single and so they would just go socialize and then say “John you have to cover because you don’t drink”. I was assigned specifically because of that reason. When you’re first there you just have to e there for some of the unpleasant times. They wanted me to be a weekend anchor and I auditioned for it and they liked what I did because I was a backup anchor. I told them I just didn’t want to mess with Sundays. I told myself I would avoid it and I told them thanks but no thanks. It might have been an increase in salary and more time off during the week since it was a weekend deal but it was already impacting my family as it was and I didn’t want it to impact my church life. But it was hard. I would leave for work about 7 o’clock, catch the bus while we were living in Superior, and get home about 7 o’clock at night. So it was 12 hour days every days for 5 days so 60 hour weeks. That begins to impact your family when you don’t seem them in the morning and when you come home its after dinner when the kids have already eaten. You play with the kids a little bit and then off to bed you go. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, K: If a local station here asked you to do a story, not giving up your current job, would you? I know you’ve done radio voice-overs in the past few years.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Gagnon, J: Yea I have done voice-overs and I think I would. Mom encourages me to do that and I still hear of things and think that would be a great story to do so I think I could do that. It’s just that it takes so much time but if I thought I could work it out a little bit. It couldn’t’ be a time crunch thing but it would be kind of fun to do. I would be nervous of the technology. I guess as a reporter you wouldn’t’ have to worry so much about that because whatever you do it would just be easier to edit. I would never go back to full time. Too many hours and there were often times, covering the other kinds of stories I just didn’t feel like there was personal fulfillment. The feature pieces felt like there was personal fulfillment but the other ones felt like I just wasn’t helping people. Even though real news does, it helps people make important government decisions and helps keep government officials accountable for their actions. They have important functions that are now shared by a lot of organizations. Back in my time it was just the stations, they didn’t have the internet and other sources for news. They didn’t have cable mainstream and so it has changed a lot that way. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;Afterward in the car (off record)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: CenturySchoolbook-Italic;"&gt;He really hated the pressure he got from the editors when they told him he had to shorten his stories and get to the point. He felt like he couldn’t put any emotional connection or expression into his pieces. When on site reporting a story he also could not spend too much time getting to know the people he was interviewing. The photographers and cameramen would get frustrated with him when he wanted to stay and get to know the people better. He felt like he just met a new friend and they were insensitively asking him to stop building the friendship connection. He used to have dreams all the time about having to get a story written last minute before deadline. It was so much a part of his life, spending at least 12 hour days there that it pervaded his lifestyle while he was sleeping too. Just recently he had a dream about writing a story last minute and not being able to get it to the editor on time. He knows now that this type of fast paced work environment is not for him. With seminary he feels like he can be creative and develop those close relationships with people without strict commitments or deadlines creeping up to interrupt.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAGnEDWjEI/AAAAAAAAADs/8ZOyrpc6R9c/s1600/Mom+and+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAGnEDWjEI/AAAAAAAAADs/8ZOyrpc6R9c/s320/Mom+and+Dad.jpg" width="262" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mom and Dad, John and Mary Gagnon&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&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/1017562116124752197-6427994286852430701?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6427994286852430701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=6427994286852430701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/6427994286852430701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/6427994286852430701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/12/interview-with-dad-former-reporter-for.html' title='Interview with Dad, former reporter for KDLH TV'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TQAEnAbghjI/AAAAAAAAADk/HqrePqnBFdg/s72-c/Picture+3.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-2209012851599583381</id><published>2010-10-05T21:47:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T15:22:50.208-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;I may be using that word far too lightly to describe my affinity towards interior design blogs. I am not a junkie...yet. As of today I only check my various favorites once or twice a week. Now that I have written exactly 43 words on the topic it will be thrust further to the forefront of my mind and I will commence to check them daily. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc6600;"&gt;Recent additions to my list: Shabby Chic and la belle vie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc6600;"&gt;I'm still getting used the the shabby blog. It's a little too much shabby and not enough chic for my liking but I'm sure I'll capture a few gems now and again. Like this one:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TKv6Lg_QVPI/AAAAAAAAACo/ROG4YnwsNDQ/s1600/Picture+4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524784443640796402" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TKv6Lg_QVPI/AAAAAAAAACo/ROG4YnwsNDQ/s400/Picture+4.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 275px; width: 452px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;la belle vie is becoming more of a favorite every day. How can I resist rooms like this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TKv6qm-gFeI/AAAAAAAAACw/YVzty7b92_I/s1600/Picture+10.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524784977824191970" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TKv6qm-gFeI/AAAAAAAAACw/YVzty7b92_I/s400/Picture+10.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 398px; width: 379px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/1017562116124752197-2209012851599583381?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2209012851599583381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=2209012851599583381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/2209012851599583381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/2209012851599583381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/10/obsession.html' title='Obsession'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TKv6Lg_QVPI/AAAAAAAAACo/ROG4YnwsNDQ/s72-c/Picture+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-6214340666454559689</id><published>2010-09-01T18:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T18:57:54.084-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bucket List</title><content type='html'>1. Visit either NY, Florida, or Canada&lt;br /&gt;2. Experience Parade of Homes&lt;br /&gt;3. Vacation in a modern bungalow like this one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TH72C54mTXI/AAAAAAAAACg/F9x6XSMEO9s/s1600/modern+bungalow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TH72C54mTXI/AAAAAAAAACg/F9x6XSMEO9s/s400/modern+bungalow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512113523706449266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Travel in a hot air balloon&lt;br /&gt;5. Go on a cruise&lt;br /&gt;6. Remodel a room&lt;br /&gt;7. Own a dog and a cat simultaneously&lt;br /&gt;8...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-6214340666454559689?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6214340666454559689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=6214340666454559689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/6214340666454559689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/6214340666454559689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-bucket-list.html' title='My Bucket List'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/TH72C54mTXI/AAAAAAAAACg/F9x6XSMEO9s/s72-c/modern+bungalow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-204975960140027995</id><published>2010-08-06T18:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T18:49:40.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Neglected</title><content type='html'>Is anything worse than this especially when it is unintentional. Nothing can solve it. Nothing can replace the feeling. The best thing to do is work around it. Find other things to keep you upbeat and moving forward and hopefully the feeling will ebb away to unnoticeable or be solved by not feeling neglected anymore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-204975960140027995?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/204975960140027995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=204975960140027995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/204975960140027995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/204975960140027995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/08/neglected.html' title='Neglected'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-4902595132232634625</id><published>2010-05-22T16:00:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T18:33:40.202-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Advice from Austen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S_hWCid_S3I/AAAAAAAAACM/YYTJcF3GH04/s1600/51AZ7DYMPKL._SL500_AA300_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S_hWCid_S3I/AAAAAAAAACM/YYTJcF3GH04/s400/51AZ7DYMPKL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474219948681153394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently while completing my library shelving duties, I came across "Jane Austen's Little Advice Book" compiled by two distinguished female fans. Stopping myself from reading the whole thing right there, I checked it out to bring home and share. I chose a few areas I felt particularly applied to me and those in my similar stage of life and demographic, that of a single woman supporting herself through college and the intricacies of the dating world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:times new roman;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the Ideal Man:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: arial;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;"All I want in a man is someone who rides bravely, dances beautifully, sings with vigor, reads passionately, and whose taste agrees in every point with my own".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;~Sense and Sensibility&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I would contentedly agree with all these points save the last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On Men Being Not That Big of a Deal:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"What are men to rocks and mountains?"&lt;br /&gt;~Pride and Prejudice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I would preface this with, "When men are being insensitive and difficult and one wishes to be apart from them for a time". Not to be applied to all times because there is no denying that snuggling with that certain man in one's life is far preferable to rocks and mountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;On Women's Loyalty:&lt;br /&gt;"All the privilege I claim for my own sex...is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone".&lt;br /&gt;~Persuasion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Unfortunately this very principle is why we have so many battered woman remaining with their abusive spouses for atrociously too long. On a happier note this is the part of us that can outlast the impatience of men and convince them to stick with us and be happy forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;On the Attractiveness of Men You've Broken Up With&lt;br /&gt;"She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely that they should meet".&lt;br /&gt;~Pride and Prejudice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I wholeheartedly agree and admittedly do and feel the same way after breakups no matter who broke it off. It is because of this that I am grateful to have never dated anyone in my ward or complex. Proximity is a killer for me and probably for most women trying to get over men. Ironically I find it almost harder to get over it when it was my idea in the first place....pondersome...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;On the Enduring Double Standard&lt;br /&gt;"...loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable...one false step involves her in endless ruin...her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful...she cannot be too much guarded in her behavior towards the undeserving of the other sex".&lt;br /&gt;~Pride and Prejudice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Thankfully this does not apply as much to us in the context of gender as it once did in earlier times however reputation regardless is something to remember when carrying out risking actions in any environment or company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;On Love as Just Plain Craziness:&lt;br /&gt;"There is nothing people are so often deceived in, as the state of their own affections."&lt;br /&gt;~Northanger Abbey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;How true this is. No argument, addendum, or preface necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;On Never Judging People by Appearances:&lt;br /&gt;"Varnish and gilding hide many stains".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;How often I have learned this lesson may I never know, for it would surely shock me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;On Why You Shouldn't Dump Your Girlfriend When You Get a Boyfriend:&lt;br /&gt;"Friendship is the finest balm for the pangs of despised love".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;to be continued...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-4902595132232634625?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4902595132232634625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=4902595132232634625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/4902595132232634625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/4902595132232634625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/05/advice-from-austen.html' title='Advice from Austen'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S_hWCid_S3I/AAAAAAAAACM/YYTJcF3GH04/s72-c/51AZ7DYMPKL._SL500_AA300_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-3528235174956668289</id><published>2010-05-18T23:30:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T23:41:01.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes the sun again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S_N4-oYXFKI/AAAAAAAAACE/mMko6oc5Mjo/s1600/GEDC0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S_N4-oYXFKI/AAAAAAAAACE/mMko6oc5Mjo/s400/GEDC0086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472850989572101282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took this sunny picture while visiting relatives in Cedar City. Sometimes I pretend to be a photographer and take supposed artsy pictures at odd angles. Not sure how this one turned out. May I perfect my art at some later date...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer is finally dragging its way on here. I do enjoy rain especially if it's warm but when it is coming between me and laying in sunshine by the pool I find it not so welcome. Here are some goals of mine for the summer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Continue doing yoga at least once a week hopefully more&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bite the bullet and work more hours = more security in fall finances&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stabilize my dating status/opportunities&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get out of Utah/Idaho&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finish all the books I'm in the middle of reading&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;My list seems lackluster at the moment and I might add or edit it in the future....or I might not. I have high hopes for a good summer and plan to make it worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sun don't fail me now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-3528235174956668289?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3528235174956668289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=3528235174956668289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3528235174956668289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3528235174956668289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/05/here-comes-sun-again.html' title='Here comes the sun again'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S_N4-oYXFKI/AAAAAAAAACE/mMko6oc5Mjo/s72-c/GEDC0086.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-3668207269725092386</id><published>2010-03-15T00:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T00:09:21.535-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S53OZ8GolmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/YkiUOM96dwo/s1600-h/up+circle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S53OZ8GolmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/YkiUOM96dwo/s320/up+circle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448738069214172770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"&gt;We took roommate pictures today and I our photographer was so good that I almost had nothing to touch up on photoshop. More pictures to come soon!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-3668207269725092386?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3668207269725092386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=3668207269725092386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3668207269725092386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3668207269725092386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/03/we-took-roommate-pictures-today-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SO_0xvC3aM/S53OZ8GolmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/YkiUOM96dwo/s72-c/up+circle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-2235236455779271422</id><published>2009-07-16T10:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T11:26:54.061-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What to compromise</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sensitivity v. Sensibility&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creativity v. Consistency&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beginning with financial contendedness or ending  with   success of dreams captured&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Efficiency and effictive decision making or the ability to lighten ill effects of bad decisions&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brave and Brawny v. Perceptive and Personal&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Straightforward and Still v.&lt;br /&gt;Flexible and Full of Life&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Focused v. Faithful&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="sqq"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/if_you_limit_your_choices_only_to_what_seems/223592.html"&gt;If you limit your &lt;b&gt;choices&lt;/b&gt; only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is compromise.&lt;/a&gt;”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-2235236455779271422?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2235236455779271422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=2235236455779271422' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/2235236455779271422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/2235236455779271422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-to-compromise.html' title='What to compromise'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-4827758911790517700</id><published>2009-07-01T15:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T15:42:53.161-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just makes me giggle uncontrollably</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;FUNNY THINGS TO DO IN AN AIRPLANE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Attempt to promote Hinduism among passengers.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Bring a fake cell phone (like the ones with candy inside) and pretend to call God, say 'The reception is much clearer up here'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Call the stewardess nurse. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Disco dance in the aisle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't use deoderant, then accidently stick your armpit in someone's face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the inflight movie, ask to share headphones with someone&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Fart loudly and act shocked, looking around to see who did it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Get some rub-on tattoos and a leather jacket, pretend that you belong to a biker gang &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jump up and scream AAAHHH!! I left the stove on!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Lead a bible study session in the back of the plane. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Lead a revolt against the first class passengers.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;No matter what the meal choices are, demand rice-a-roni.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Put on a ten foot diameter sombrero and slouch in your seat, whacking everyone on the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remark that perhaps you shouldn't have put superglue in your undies that morning. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ride carry-on luggage down the aisle, yelling Yeee-ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say, Did you know every time a plane crashes, an angel gets its wings? Then sigh and stare dreamily into the clouds. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scream and dive under your seat for no apparent reason. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Suddenly remember that you left your iron on. Ask if the pilot would mind going back so you can check. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Switch accents and see if anyone notices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tap at the windows, saying Looks pretty tough then ask somone if they have a bat you could use to test. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tell corny jokes and laugh like it's absolutely hilarious, then expect others to do the same 46. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Wear a hairpiece and switch it often, seeing if anyone notices.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tell the person next to you your life story, from DNA to that afternoon.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Push the flight attendant call button and pretend it give you a shock. When you get everybody’s attention, smile.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Call the Psychic Hotline from the in-flight phone and ask if they know where you are.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Drop a pen in the aisle and wait until someone reaches to help pick it up, then scream, 'That's mine!'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Bring a camera and take pictures of everyone in the airplane.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Lay down a Twister mat in the back of the plane and ask people if they'd like to play.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Leave a box in the corner, and when someone picks it up ask if they hear something ticking.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pretend you are a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the passengers.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ask, 'Did you feel that?'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Stand really close to someone, sniffing them occasionally.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Swat at flies that don't exist.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tell people that you can see their aura.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Scream 'Pillow Fight!'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering 'Shut up, all of you, just shut up!'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce in horror, 'You're one of THEM!!'.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Wear a puppet on your hand and use it to talk to the other passengers.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Listen to the airplane walls with a stethoscope.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Make explosion noises when anyone presses a flight attendant call button.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-4827758911790517700?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4827758911790517700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=4827758911790517700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/4827758911790517700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/4827758911790517700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-makes-me-giggle-uncontrollably.html' title='Just makes me giggle uncontrollably'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-3170179417179012414</id><published>2009-06-30T08:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T09:10:43.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trials and Tender Mercies</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago my phone's lcd screen went completely black and while I could preform every normal task on it I could not see what I was doing or read texts etc. I endured it for a few days trying to find repair places (since Sprint would not do anything but have me sign a new contract). Pretty soon I figured out that if I held my phone open precariously at a 45 degree angle I could read texts and see incoming calls and so on. This was 2 weeks ago. While I will probably not get a new phone for some time, I can at least perform all my normal activities with only minimal inconvienence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Sunday I went to my car intending to drive to Mychal's ward to have sacrament meeting with her but this was not to be. After doing my regular routine for vapor lock, that is opening my gas cap and releasing some water pressure, the engine would still not turn over. To my dismay I realized Sacrament meeting with Mychal which I had been promising to attend, would not happen that day. I then did what any sensible, independent college girl would do. I called my mother. She diagnosed a possible broken fuel injector/pump, something like that. She had me try the accelerator and flood the engine a bit but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday rolls around and I have been talking to every guy I know scoping out potential mechanics as well as calling around places in Provo for professional mechanics. Planning on having to call a tow truck, I tried the honda once more and it mercifully started up and got me all the way to the repair shop. Crossing tow truck manuvering in campus plaza parking lot off my to do list I am today preparing myself mentally for the phone call from mom about the mechanic's diagnostic. Just as my cell phone dilemma was appeased enough to provide me a workable alternative route, so was my honda ordeal made less chaotic with a simple answered prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A grander scale predicament now lies in the subject of housing. Back in March and April when most continuing student wisely secure their fall/winter housing I was counting too much on arrangments that I had no doubt would fall into place. When those carefully laid out plans were disrupted by lines of students piling up behind managment office doors, I bought a summer contract at Campus Plaza and made dormant the fall/winter worries for the time being. Now, middle of summer, I realize gee if I don't have a signed and sealed contract for fall/winter my living conditions will be in reality non-existent. Shoot. So what do I do? Sign an expensive 4 person contract for Campus Plaza as a backup plan, upgrading my deposit and agreeing to come up with $500+  before summer is over. At this point I assume the tender mercy is that I at least have somewhere to go even if the financing for it will be more than a challenge. I am almost considering moving to Alta with Mychal however it is a 20 minute walk to the tip of campus. The nightmares of running late to class treking through a snow-filled parking lot, driving around endlessly looking for parking, or realizing too late once on campus that homework is at home and not having 40 minutes to run back and retrieve it. Yes the argument here can be made that this will force me to plan ahead and not be forgetful. I beg to argue that I learn that lesson enough as it is even living within 5 minutes of campus now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When fall comes around I surely will have a plan laid out and housing secured. Tender mercies do not tend to fall very far from the trial tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-3170179417179012414?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3170179417179012414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=3170179417179012414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3170179417179012414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/3170179417179012414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/06/trials-and-tender-mercies.html' title='Trials and Tender Mercies'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-2721526010515472569</id><published>2009-06-22T16:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T16:54:59.355-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lesson Well Learned...</title><content type='html'>Through trial and error this past semester I have discovered that contrary to what I may have thought when I was younger, physical affection affects more than just the surface emotions. Physical affection does in fact bleed deeper into the heart than a mere passing flirtation. My fondness for the term "cuddle buddy" has been placed in the proper category of Do Not Try This at Home...side affects include heartburn, heartaches, and in the most severe cases irreprable heart attck. Fortunately I found the "use only as directed" directions in time to stop overdosing on SCS's (semi-commital  cuddle sessions). I had a roommate as well as a best friend warn me about the possible side affects but I took the over-the-counter, self prescription route and got a little carried away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vow (to the best of my abilities) to not involve myself in encounters that even dare to resemble physical affection unless there is that wonderful little C word (not cuddling) used by each party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commitment from the start. Good motto. Good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-2721526010515472569?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2721526010515472569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=2721526010515472569' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/2721526010515472569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/2721526010515472569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/06/lesson-well-learned.html' title='A Lesson Well Learned...'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-6516063630212929856</id><published>2009-01-23T11:31:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:45:11.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Increasing in maturity</title><content type='html'>Sure my stove top analogy was cute but I have come to realize that relationships are not as easy as  a kitchen appliance. Perhaps a more accurate metaphor would be to compare my situation to leftovers in the fridge. Right now I need to concentrate my full attention on what is cooking at this moment and put the back burner item in Tupperware  in the fridge and shut the door. It won't go bad at the right temperature and it can be re-heated after a period of time if I chose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not fair to the new man in my life to be committed fully to this relationship while I am still keeping live feelings for another man from the past. I want this relationship to progress to wherever it may and I am not just biding my time until the old man in my life returns. I feel good about this decision and hope dearly that it does not come crashing down around me anytime soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-6516063630212929856?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6516063630212929856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=6516063630212929856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/6516063630212929856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/6516063630212929856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/01/increasing-in-maturity.html' title='Increasing in maturity'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-5998353608918670551</id><published>2009-01-14T12:46:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T12:57:33.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, a new man in my life</title><content type='html'>In continuation of my fabulous stove top analogy, I am now allowing a new pot to boil on my stove. He is good friend I met in advertising and we decided to try to date exclusively and so far it is going rather well. This does not mean that I am turning off the back burner necessarily, just trying out a new burner. More updates to come later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-5998353608918670551?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5998353608918670551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=5998353608918670551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/5998353608918670551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/5998353608918670551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/01/yes-new-man-in-my-life.html' title='Yes, a new man in my life'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1017562116124752197.post-5955210450040434225</id><published>2008-11-09T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T11:00:41.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Preface</title><content type='html'>For those of you who reject cliches and avoid them like the plague this may not be the thing for you to read. For those of you who have no hope in romantic notions or daydreams that might possibly turn into reality, spare yourself the cynisism that reading this will provoke. The facts are these: I am writing a missionary and yes I love him but no we are not even close to being engaged and no I am not "waiting" for him in the sense that I date no one else. I believe it is very possible to put love for someone on a temporary back burner while it is still not quite done cooking yet. It has some ingredients missing and the main ingredient is unavailable for 18 more months. Meanwhile the three other burners are ready to be used and are more than happy to cook something healthy and delicious. Once another burner is in use the pan on the backburner doesn not automatically burn and get ruined. It's still back there on low heat waiting to be dealt with at the appropriate time. I am not an accomplised chef yet I am not prone to burning food and certainly do not intend to burn anything soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1017562116124752197-5955210450040434225?l=kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5955210450040434225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1017562116124752197&amp;postID=5955210450040434225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/5955210450040434225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1017562116124752197/posts/default/5955210450040434225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelizabethspeaks.blogspot.com/2008/11/preface.html' title='Preface'/><author><name>Kristin Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13978836907351102392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H1fj8slTARw/TdMoLQPgtzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5rpPNShDBcI/s220/me%2Bgrass2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
