<?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-5246351340964525616</id><updated>2011-10-05T12:37:13.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kellsbells</title><subtitle type='html'>Finding the Likeliest of Joys in the Unlikeliest of Places!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.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-5246351340964525616.post-8805667896186492803</id><published>2011-10-05T12:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T12:37:13.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Change is good...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BLpjtmxovPk/ToyVr2DWP6I/AAAAAAAAAF8/eNWR2eb3vYg/s1600/Hopes%2Bon%2Bthe%2BHorizon.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BLpjtmxovPk/ToyVr2DWP6I/AAAAAAAAAF8/eNWR2eb3vYg/s320/Hopes%2Bon%2Bthe%2BHorizon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660063412174340002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change is on the horizon. I'm always dreaming of ways to make myself better when, I can be putting these plans into action. I don't feel like my life has started, funny enough, but what's crazy is that my life started the day I drew my first breath. All that changes is the stages and the amount of growth. That's what changes. I got taller, I got older, I got fatter, but my life was definitely in full force. I liken the feeling to the utmost freedom. Imagine driving down a long dusty road on a summer evening with your arms hanging out of the windows. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, but drive and take in the air. That's life. That's change. Every moment of life, hard or easy, sad or joyful, marks an amazing turning point in your life. You can celebrate and remain where you are, or you can give up and stay where you are. Either way, life still moves forward. It is most assuredly up to you if you go along with it. Find those dreams, mark that place in the stars where it is, harness and pull yourself toward it. I've spent entirely too many years pulling my dreams down to me instead of elevating myself up to meet them and I learned nothing. I learned that stars belong out in the stratosphere, not here on earth because they never last. But if I can reach the stars, I can find new ones if I'm where the stars shine best. This is my last blog post as Kellsbells. I'm changing because of the growth I feel on the horizon and it's calling me to take my place among the stars. It's ok though, change is good. It only comes when you've reached a turning point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-8805667896186492803?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/8805667896186492803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/10/change-is-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/8805667896186492803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/8805667896186492803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/10/change-is-good.html' title='Change is good...'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BLpjtmxovPk/ToyVr2DWP6I/AAAAAAAAAF8/eNWR2eb3vYg/s72-c/Hopes%2Bon%2Bthe%2BHorizon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-8125651686260288647</id><published>2011-06-20T14:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T14:51:26.242-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing to Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOXWMpiZfeI/Tf-krSheS9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/5pXFSMhm060/s1600/speechless.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOXWMpiZfeI/Tf-krSheS9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/5pXFSMhm060/s320/speechless.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620391923595234258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm speechless. Utterly speechless. Rendered as one without words. I'm glad I embarked on this blogging twice a month journey because otherwise I would have nothing to write about. Nothing...to...say. I once heard Derek Luke say in an interview that someone told him whatever you want to do, go to the place where whatever that is, is. In other words, go to the place where your heart is and make your dreams come true. He was working in a film studio gift shop when he got the part for Antwone Fisher. Hearing him say that touched me. I want to write, be a writer. But where is it necessary for me to go in order to make that happen? Anywhere? This morning when I woke up, I had an anxiety attack. I was anxious about school, about not doing well in school, about not succeeding, about not following my dreams. I started out this time last year preparing for law school and although it came screeching to an abrupt halt, I'm not about to put that dream out to pasture. I'm all about believing in it, cultivating it, knowing it WILL come true. Looking back at my previous entry about fear, I realize that the time has come to truly follow my dreams. I'm shaking the dust of these doctoral dreams off of my heels and running at full steam ahead toward what I really want: a law degree. I like being speechless. As long as I'm not talking, I'm listening. When you have nothing to say, you can lend your ear to wisdom. So speak wisdom, I'm listening. I'm all ears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-8125651686260288647?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/8125651686260288647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/06/nothing-to-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/8125651686260288647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/8125651686260288647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/06/nothing-to-say.html' title='Nothing to Say'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOXWMpiZfeI/Tf-krSheS9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/5pXFSMhm060/s72-c/speechless.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-1742143758441430182</id><published>2011-06-01T08:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T08:17:51.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-3IWN7G4Yw/TeY76QcD5ZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/pLzgm2X3Lp4/s1600/hello-fear.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-3IWN7G4Yw/TeY76QcD5ZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/pLzgm2X3Lp4/s320/hello-fear.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613239857595016594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a popular song circulating around my Christian circle of friends by Kirk Franklin called "Hello Fear." The title is of absolute appropriateness at this point in my life. I woke up with heartburn this morning at the thought of having to take a doctoral level math based course. Everyone's favorite in fact: statistics. So it is not only math based, but absolutely difficult for someone who cannot conceptualize numbers the way she does words. I'm out of my element here, and I am yes, you guessed it, afraid. If I could write a letter or a memo to my fear it would probably read something like:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello Fear,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Long time, no see. Actually I take that back, you've been hanging around for years, keeping me from succeeding when I needed to the most. You've tainted most of my experiences that are my deepest regrets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Signed,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I'm going to have to learn to not let my fear control me. I always keep moving forward, often not confronting things, but leaving them far behind me and taking my fear along with me. But it isn't always bad. Contained within these fears are all my hopes disguised. I'm afraid of failing statistics is really I hope that I do well. I'm afraid to lose this person is really, I hope you stay in my life. When looked at by its polar opposite, hope, fear cannot stand on its own. It's not the fears that drive you, but the hopes lurking behind every one. So don't despair, don't fear, don't worry. Hope. Say hello to your fear, face it head on. And then introduce it to your real friend, hope and keep moving, better, stronger, fearless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-1742143758441430182?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/1742143758441430182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/06/hello-fear.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/1742143758441430182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/1742143758441430182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/06/hello-fear.html' title='Hello Fear'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-3IWN7G4Yw/TeY76QcD5ZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/pLzgm2X3Lp4/s72-c/hello-fear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-4511825205784430580</id><published>2011-04-29T09:44:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T08:22:05.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No John Hancock</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m1WlXZjUZ48/TbrQ4waKrfI/AAAAAAAAAFg/YODpl8PCDM0/s1600/hancocksignaturelg.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 153px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m1WlXZjUZ48/TbrQ4waKrfI/AAAAAAAAAFg/YODpl8PCDM0/s320/hancocksignaturelg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601018760074538482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Do you ever wonder what was going through John Hancock's mind when he signed his name bigger than everyone else's? Did he think it would be preserved through all time? Because if that's his goal, not only does he have the most recognizable signature on the Declaration of Independence, he has an idiomatic expression to accompany it as well. As for me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I don’t have a signature. It’s the latest thing in cyberspace to measure the relative fullness of a person’s life. Unless your email is closed affiliating you with some organization, company, or projecting the end of your matriculation through professional school, then you’re a nobody. I get emails from a lot of people denoting their title, status, or some wise quote that sums up their very being. Not that I mind reading that you’re a JD candidate in the class of 2013, or something that Confucious said (before he ever knew there’d be an internet and that people would sign the end of an email using his wise words), but am I to measure my success by the fact that I have nothing wise to pass on or some important position to report? Ironically I must&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 13.0px American Typewriter"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;wonder what the significance of a signature is. Ironically because “significance” and “signature” both come from the same root word “sign,” meaning “an indication (n.) or to put one’s signature to (v.).” So I am left to wonder (being the wordsmith that I am at times) whether not having an email signature is a bad sign. I’ve signed lots of documents with my name only and signed off an email with my name only. Wouldn’t my resume speak for itself? Tell all the necessary things one must know? Isn’t it a little pretentious to let everyone know that you’re a law student unless your email was being addressed to a law firm in hopes of a job or summer associate position? To the person who has a penchant for famous quotes: is it appropriate to end your email with “We have nothing to fear but fear itself” when you’re just dropping a line to see how I’m doing?  What are you implying? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well I have begun to fear. I’ve begun to fear what with being left behind by social media and still preferring to read actual books instead of files on a Kindle and valuing face to face rather than mobile banking that not having an email signature will make me look too passe. What would I even sign it with? Currently I’m in transition after having withdrawn from law school to come home and take care of my mother after her near fatal car accident. I think my signature would read something like: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kelle Neal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Former JD Candidate, 2013&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Full-time caretaker and selfless daughter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Unemployed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&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/5246351340964525616-4511825205784430580?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/4511825205784430580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/04/no-john-hancock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/4511825205784430580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/4511825205784430580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/04/no-john-hancock.html' title='No John Hancock'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m1WlXZjUZ48/TbrQ4waKrfI/AAAAAAAAAFg/YODpl8PCDM0/s72-c/hancocksignaturelg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-4165562793601229020</id><published>2011-03-16T15:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T15:53:50.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you been rehabilitated? Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YhYvSs4laRc/TYEiVuMF64I/AAAAAAAAAEo/YtaVMGS6g2k/s1600/Brooks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YhYvSs4laRc/TYEiVuMF64I/AAAAAAAAAEo/YtaVMGS6g2k/s200/Brooks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584782769487473538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's a harsh truth to face: no way I'm going to make it on the outside." So many things come and go in this life and it seems like the weight of the world is on my shoulders more often than not these days. There are more heavy shackles that await a person who has been freed. Shackles that come and try to weigh you down much heavier than you were before. There's another level to ascend, more things to discover, new heights to climb, more challenges to overcome. When Brooks was freed, he was too heavy laden from the things he didn't know, what he hadn't learned. Red, on the other hand, was heavy laden with the choice between accepting what he had learned or relying on what he knew to be an inevitable reality. He himself said "Brooks Hatlen knew it all too well." Knew what, Red? Knew that what a man believes he is, cannot be changed with a new address. What a man believes he is can only be changed (or remain unchanged) by what he accepts in his heart. I've had the hardest time over the last few years. I kept feeling like I had no right to complain because my mom was having a harder time, and having to support me through mine. I seem to be worse off than before in some respects, but on the exterior only. Inside I'm a totally different girl. I'm reminded of Red. He could have done what Brooks did and gave up before he had a chance to really live. I'm reminded of Red each time I apply for a new job or am impressed to pursue a new opportunity because he had learned that behind every fear lies a hope. He wasn't merely afraid of being stopped at the border, he had hope that he would get to see the Pacific. I'm not suggesting anyone jump bail or violate your parole, just listen for the hopes that often manifest themselves as fears. Trouble doesn't last forever. Ask yourself if you've been rehabilitated or conditioned to believe untrue things about who you are. Only you can answer that question and unless you and only you can answer that question then maybe you'll think of ways to remain unchanged, ungrowing. And if you can't answer that question then, it's true -- there's no way you're going to make it on the outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-4165562793601229020?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/4165562793601229020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/03/have-you-been-rehabilitated-part-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/4165562793601229020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/4165562793601229020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/03/have-you-been-rehabilitated-part-ii.html' title='Have you been rehabilitated? Part II'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YhYvSs4laRc/TYEiVuMF64I/AAAAAAAAAEo/YtaVMGS6g2k/s72-c/Brooks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-7858288117051354516</id><published>2011-03-02T21:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:15:07.566-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you been rehabilitated? Part I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qysnRxJqBuQ/TW8Hp4M8xlI/AAAAAAAAAEg/0NTuZ3t0uiM/s1600/RedParole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qysnRxJqBuQ/TW8Hp4M8xlI/AAAAAAAAAEg/0NTuZ3t0uiM/s320/RedParole.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579686879378064978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll find that many of my blogs will in some way reference my favorite movie, "The Shawshank Redemption." Today's message has to do with rehabilitation. When asked if he felt he'd been "rehabilitated," Red answered the same way every ten years he was up for parole: "Rehabilitated? Oh yes sir, absolutely sir. That's the God's honest truth. No danger to society here." After twenty years Red repeated the words the parole board were expecting with great zeal. He was excited, answering the way he felt they thought he should. After thirty years, he had been a little less zealous but repeated the exact same words. The parole board had changed, Red's sentiment and words had not. Yet he was rejected again. Once his best friend Andy had escaped, Red rejoiced at the thought, but missed Andy dearly. He had become cynical and ironically that is when he was the most honest. It was through his honesty with the parole board about rehabilitation being a "politician's word made up so that someone like him could put on a suit and a tie and have a job," that is when he was approved. Whenever I watch the Shawshank Redemption (and I often do), I usually repeat these words alongside Red, thinking to myself that he was right. Rehabilitated is in fact a made up word. By whose standards do we reach that level of rehabilitation that allows us to rejoin the ranks of the society that scorned us in the first place? Once Red no longer gave a hoot about what was to happen, once he had given up and appeared hopeless, that was the moment he was deemed ready to rejoin society and live a "normal life." Are we to assimilate with these so-called standards and become "rehabilitated?" Is it being rehabilitated or being changed? Red wished he could go back and "talk some sense" to that "young stupid kid" to keep him from having done what he had done. Yet once he had assimilated into what the parole board expected him to be, he was not ready to rejoin the ranks. He had to be unyielding, real. He had to be himself and take a long hard look in the mirror everyday and say "this is who I was. This is what I've done. But this is not who I am any longer." And the most wonderful thought about that is, you can too. Don't punish yourself for what you have done. You'll remember it, but move on. It's what you once did, but it's not who you are or will forever be. You don't have to be as cynical as Red was, but you do have to face it. Be sorry for what you've done, but don't let it define you or the direction your life will take. Own your life today. Unless you have been rehabilitated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-7858288117051354516?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/7858288117051354516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/03/have-you-been-rehabilitated-part-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7858288117051354516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7858288117051354516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/03/have-you-been-rehabilitated-part-i.html' title='Have you been rehabilitated? Part I'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qysnRxJqBuQ/TW8Hp4M8xlI/AAAAAAAAAEg/0NTuZ3t0uiM/s72-c/RedParole.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-6205970057740686324</id><published>2011-02-25T13:34:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T08:32:05.959-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Word on Anger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2hMS-ILWAlI/TWgQyboQ8TI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/QzNHWSMP-XQ/s1600/anger.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2hMS-ILWAlI/TWgQyboQ8TI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/QzNHWSMP-XQ/s320/anger.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577726597094502706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead. Tell me "I told you so." It was only a matter of time before I blogged about anger. Blowing one's top. Losing the proverbial cool. For me, a passive individual who dare not engage in confrontation, anger manifests itself in annoyance.  Whenever I get annoyed I either never talk to people, or if I do I'm a little short with them. If something bothers me, I make it everyone else's problem, which is probably worse than someone just telling you about yourself at the top of her lungs. I can only think of probably one time that I've ever done that and I just erupted. I hated not having self control over what I said to someone in the heat of the moment so I decided that it was probably a bad idea to just shout what I'm feeling when I'm angry. Inevitably remorse follows and sometimes irreparable damage has been done to a relationship. That said, I've got a list (surprise, surprise) about anger. It's in no particular order or anything, it's just there to sort of let you know where I am, and if it can help you, then I sincerely hope it will. One of my favorite bible verses is found in Proverbs 15:1 and it says that "A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Sometimes being the bigger person means holding your tongue.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey! Cool your jets! Isn't that the most annoying expression ever in life? I think it is anyway, but it makes a lot of sense. Blowing up doesn't solve anything and it often results in words being spoken that should never be said aloud. Sadly, it is often how you really feel, but more often than not, it isn't. It's hard, but remember some people can't control their emotions and others get roped in with them. Some people are the type to just try and get a rise out of people and those people don't deserve the satisfaction of knowing they got under your skin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Not blowing up back does not make you a weak person.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some often mistake silence or kindness for weakness. But it isn't. Silence gives you the opportunity to gain something the other hothead won't get going crazy -- perspective. If you have that then you'll have the upper hand. Even if he or she is right, this method of conveying that message will make them look like the fool every single time. Staying calm will keep the situation from getting elevated and as Proverbs 15:1 admonishes us, will quickly diffuse a situation. Who wants to look like a fool if the other person isn't blowing up with them? Sometimes it seems like you don't care or are scared of the person, but it's better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Everyone gets angry sometimes, it's a human reaction, but expressing your anger does not mean acting like a fool.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to think that in order to be taken seriously, especially as a black woman, I had to have attitude all the time. Otherwise, everyone viewed me as being uppity. Whatever. There is no stereotypical method to get angry. I do get angry and as I stated above, I don't shout, I make it everyone else's problem. This is not something I'm proud of, it also encompasses acting like a fool. It's something I have to work on (I am by no means perfect), but I've come a long way and can honestly tell you, controlling your emotions and talking through the problem prevents situations from getting out of control 9 out of 10 times, everytime. Just kidding, but a lot of the time it really works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Don't diminish another person's needs or feelings because you have a problem.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A lot of the time, when people are angry with someone else, and if you're like me, the other person doesn't always know it. My husband surely would (I'm not married yet, but based on my track record he could be sure that I was angry with him)! Saying whatever comes to mind, doesn't help. For example, "You always do stupid stuff like this. What's wrong with you? Why can't you get your life together?" First of all, who among you is perfect? Why can't YOU get YOUR life together? Why do YOU always do stupid stuff like this? What's wrong with YOU? If you can ask yourself these questions and give answers, then chances are you shouldn't address the issue you have with someone else in this manner. Talk it through. Approach it when your jets are cooled (tee hee) and see how effective rational communication can be. For example, "I don't like it when (fill in the blank) happens. I would appreciate it if you would (fill in the blank) in the future." This way it's fair. You can address your feelings, the other person's actions and create a causal link that leads to viable solution.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Don't withhold things from people out of spite because you're angry.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seems like a no brainer right? It's not. Many times we want to punish others for how we feel and it's not even like we're really in a position to do it. We look for ways to gain the upper hand on someone in a more vulnerable position so that when that moment does come around, we are so excited to be in a position to be able to punish them for what they did to us, aren't we? Someone cut you off in traffic, when you see that car again needing to be let back in you blatantly pull up too far, don't you? Someone skips you in line and then ends up coming up short a dollar or two, but why give it to them? They should not have skipped you, right? When that happens, the best revenge is just to &lt;i&gt;be&lt;/i&gt; in that position. It's humbling to require help from the people you stepped on. Most of the time, people don't know they've hurt us, and even if they do, we don't have the right to condemn or punish them. As you've discovered, if you ever get the upper hand, karma's a beeyotch. Remember that when you decide to keep something from someone when they've done you wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once again, my list is by no means exhaustive, but I felt like blogging about anger when I got mad today. Instead of blowing up, I wrote about it and now I feel better. Not just because I didn't get angry, but because I was able to follow my own advice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-6205970057740686324?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/6205970057740686324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/02/word-on-anger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/6205970057740686324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/6205970057740686324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/02/word-on-anger.html' title='A Word on Anger'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2hMS-ILWAlI/TWgQyboQ8TI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/QzNHWSMP-XQ/s72-c/anger.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-5172569178006489720</id><published>2011-02-22T09:56:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:26:13.468-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Accept the good...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XJFIaj8zwYE/TWPhFKLZMBI/AAAAAAAAADQ/m8infgzgqdg/s1600/Acceptthegood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XJFIaj8zwYE/TWPhFKLZMBI/AAAAAAAAADQ/m8infgzgqdg/s400/Acceptthegood.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576548242362544146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll find that not only do I often quote lines and lessons from the &lt;i&gt;Shawshank Redemption&lt;/i&gt; but rather movies in general. Today's theme is from &lt;i&gt;Things We Lost in the Fire&lt;/i&gt;. This little farce starred Halle Berry and Benicio del Toro. An unlikely friendship develops when Berry's character, Audrey Burke loses her wonderful husband to a tragic accident. Burke's best friend, Jerry (del Toro) is a former lawyer drug addict that Burke (David Duchovny) refuses to leave in the gutter, much to Audrey's chagrin. Since this isn't a movie review I'll skip to the point I was trying to make earlier...Audrey's husband used to always tell her to accept the good. I had to watch this movie several times before I could make sense of it. I didn't understand what that meant until one day while brushing my teeth it hit me. In this life, we prepare for the worst case scenario. We expect the bottom to fall out of everything. So when something good happens, it is hard to swallow. Emma Thompson told Dustin Hoffman in &lt;i&gt;Last Chance Harvey&lt;/i&gt; (see? another movie...) that she was almost angry with him for taking the chance to be disappointed away from her. It's what we do as humans, hope for the best but prepare for (and usually expect) the worst. It makes sense to weigh your options, to give yourself options, but why not with a little optimism? The reason I could not understand what "accept the good" meant was because I am one of those humans that view "good" as a foreign concept. We know how we will react if we don't get the job, if we don't get that acceptance letter, if he doesn't propose. We know how to accept the bad because we are constantly expecting it. What do we do when the answer is yes? We accept it with reservations. "Well," we tell ourselves, "this will do for now, but when it goes up in smoke I'll be ready with the ice cream and tissue boxes." Why?! Why on earth would we accept good things as a Trojan horse? Because bad is in your face. Bad is what it is. But why can't we view good as being what it is? Good also is what it is. It doesn't last forever, but on the other side of that coin neither does the bad. We need sorrow in order to experience joy, and joy is what keeps us going, not sorrow. Sorrow shapes the joy we will most assuredly receive eventually. So when you do get the job, when the acceptance letter comes, when he is the one, plan for life's great moments. And if they don't happen, instead of knowing how to react to sadness, plan for better joy. Around every corner is a bouquet of flowers with a tag attached saying, "Accept the good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-5172569178006489720?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/5172569178006489720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/02/accept-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/5172569178006489720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/5172569178006489720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/02/accept-good.html' title='Accept the good...'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XJFIaj8zwYE/TWPhFKLZMBI/AAAAAAAAADQ/m8infgzgqdg/s72-c/Acceptthegood.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-3777932318681255093</id><published>2011-02-07T14:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T18:19:09.981-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rehab is for Quitters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4XJabqWpkrk/TVxpa-eOtLI/AAAAAAAAADI/hEJIP8F9hz8/s1600/RehabIsForQuitters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4XJabqWpkrk/TVxpa-eOtLI/AAAAAAAAADI/hEJIP8F9hz8/s400/RehabIsForQuitters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574446350945137842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Webster's dictionary defines the word "quit" as "to stop, give up or leave." It further states that it means to "give up a job or position." The word "withdraw" is defined as "to draw back, away or aside" or "to retract." I once saw a t-shirt that read "Rehab is for Quitters." At that thought I chuckled to myself and was in fact greatly amused at the thought. Rehab is, in fact, for quitters. Quitters of drugs and alcohol or some other kind of addiction. Rehab gives people the power over what makes them weak and allows them to grow. To change. In the rehab of life, people don't always get a second chance. Fear paralyzes them. Bitterness cripples them. Anger prevents them from moving on and getting past their pain. I recently withdrew from law school for very personal reasons but decided that maybe it was truly not the place for me. You could say that I, in fact, quit. I had reasons that prevented me from continuing on, but I am not sorry I did. I liked law school but hated Florida. I liked my classmates but was terribly lonely. I liked my independence but hated living alone. Everywhere I turned was a catch-22. I had to come home and give up my addiction. I was addicted to accomplishment. I had to always do something, be somewhere, be somebody. I was going to do it at all costs. My drive was destroying my life in much the same way alcohol or crack destroys the body. It was impossible for me to continue living if I wasn't doing something productive with my life. And now here I sit, at a complete standstill and with the most clarity that I've ever had in 30 years. I woke up today and realized that I'm not going anywhere and I'm perfectly fine with that. The reason is because going nowhere doesn't mean not becoming anything. It means that I can finally see where I'm going. If quitting something is always this easy, then I think I'll do it more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-3777932318681255093?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/3777932318681255093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/02/rehab-is-for-quitters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/3777932318681255093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/3777932318681255093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/02/rehab-is-for-quitters.html' title='Rehab is for Quitters'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4XJabqWpkrk/TVxpa-eOtLI/AAAAAAAAADI/hEJIP8F9hz8/s72-c/RehabIsForQuitters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-8121075598334129068</id><published>2011-01-27T17:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T17:48:31.077-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Two for the Price of One...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/TUIERwp1CRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zeY-G6acQj0/s1600/DSCN3073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/TUIERwp1CRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zeY-G6acQj0/s320/DSCN3073.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567016792547985682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my resolutions for this year included:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Doing a raw cleanse for ten days from January 21 - January 31;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) After said raw cleanse eating vegan for six months; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Incorporating more healthy food into my diet; and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Blogging twice a month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought that by intending to change my lifestyle that these "resolutions" would magically transform themselves into habits. So far, I haven't blogged at all, January 21st came and went and being a vegan is appearing less and less likely. However, I had a blog post waiting for me for some months and decided that I would upload that one and compose a new one with my alleged plan for 2011. If I could change my resolution or add one, it would definitely be to appreciate my friends and family because in a moment, in the blink of an eye, your entire life can change. My mother was in a really bad car accident last Thursday and was very severely injured. At the instant I found out, I got scared. I felt awful because I couldn't call her and ask her what to do. But as quickly as I nearly fell apart, I remembered everything she had taught me about the crises of life. "Read Psalm 91," she said. "Cry whenever you need to," she said. "Remember no one will ever love you as much I love you," she said. And it was true. And I felt encouraged because although she couldn't talk to me with her mouth, she talked to me through what she taught me and I appreciate that I had the opportunity to learn what she was trying to teach me all these years. And in the moment that I needed her the most, she was still who I leaned on. I love you mommy. Get well soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-8121075598334129068?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/8121075598334129068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/01/two-for-price-of-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/8121075598334129068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/8121075598334129068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2011/01/two-for-price-of-one.html' title='Two for the Price of One...'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/TUIERwp1CRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zeY-G6acQj0/s72-c/DSCN3073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-7641903588529030767</id><published>2010-07-29T12:37:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T17:50:50.324-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It had to be you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/TUIE1m-XNpI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Q49zCLH1nmc/s1600/GingCorn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 158px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/TUIE1m-XNpI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Q49zCLH1nmc/s400/GingCorn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567017408425047698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px American Typewriter"&gt;I thought of a great tagline for a movie today... “Sometimes the people in our lives are there for the greatest of reasons. We may think they are there to sabotage our dreams, but hopefully we discover that the reason they are there is to help us realize our dreams.” It’s for a remake of this wonderful old movie I saw on TCM once: It Had To Be You. The plot was very simple but so good. There was this girl from a very wealthy family who as a child had a birthday party and she kissed a boy dressed like an Indian. When she grew up, she was engaged to be married but kept having dreams of the Indian guy -- all grown up. He appeared to her, but she was the only one that could see him. Finally she discovered that he was a real person and the dream guy that only she could see appeared so that she could find her way to him. She saw the real guy in her father’s department store, thinking it was the imaginary guy following her still and had him thrown out. When she got home she discovered that the imaginary guy had been playing chess with her father all the time (that’s right I forgot, everyone could see him but I don’t remember the reason she gave for his presence). She eventually found the real guy and he was a firefighter that resisted her charms until finally they discovered they had so much in common, fell in love and at the end got married, but there were a few hitches in between with her fiance and the real guy thinking she didn’t want to marry him because he wasn’t good enough. Anyway, the point of my tagline was, sometimes we love people we think are unattainable and then an undesireable one comes along but forces us to like them. There is a genuine sincerity inside of them that comes to the surface and manifests itself in helping us to reach our goal. I certainly hope that the purpose of the undesirable in my life is to help me reach the unattainable one, but if it isn’t, may it be to help me realize my own worth and that there is someone who is both desireable and attainable.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-7641903588529030767?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/7641903588529030767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-had-to-be-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7641903588529030767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7641903588529030767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-had-to-be-you.html' title='It had to be you...'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/TUIE1m-XNpI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Q49zCLH1nmc/s72-c/GingCorn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-2658159423217086856</id><published>2010-04-19T16:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T16:13:50.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S8zG5n45KnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/B13dzLCtV-4/s1600/LQCA63L9P1CAVA9014CAG8BZ00CA1JQ5XCCAJ25YPXCAS2MEDICAZOZO4ECAAJ2YKOCA1U9GQ8CAAFIBDBCAN4L41ZCA2QR75GCAQUF56QCAZKPTI8CAC34FVGCAWX29A6CAKTKBTRCAPQPJ2R.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461959141356022386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 89px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S8zG5n45KnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/B13dzLCtV-4/s320/LQCA63L9P1CAVA9014CAG8BZ00CA1JQ5XCCAJ25YPXCAS2MEDICAZOZO4ECAAJ2YKOCA1U9GQ8CAAFIBDBCAN4L41ZCA2QR75GCAQUF56QCAZKPTI8CAC34FVGCAWX29A6CAKTKBTRCAPQPJ2R.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hope is a dangerous thing." This is one of the most memorable things that I have ever heard. Morgan Freeman said it to Tim Robbins in &lt;em&gt;The Shawshank Redemption&lt;/em&gt;. Strange as it may sound, he was completely right. Hope &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; a dangerous thing. It can either put our heads in the clouds or it can help us rise above them and soar with the eagles. What kills our hope though? A dream deferred? A dream denied? No dreams at all? What gives our hope strength? A dream realized? It's hard to say exactly but one thing is sure, Red thought that hope would kill him. In fact, it saved his life. He hoped, but he also acted on it. His hope...gave him wings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When does hope stop being something we hold dear and become something we use for action? I hoped this week, that I would hear from some of the jobs I'd applied for, the law schools I'd applied to and I did. The problem? I only &lt;em&gt;hoped&lt;/em&gt; that I would. I didn't hope their responses would be in my favor or that I would get what it was that I hoped for. My hope didn't give me wings, it only fueled the fire. I have to take action in order to get what I want. Hope will inspire me and keep me going -- it will not do the work for me. So I charge you: hope, but do the work that keeps your hope afloat! You may find that at the end of the road, in your darkest hours your hope was what motivated you every step of the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-2658159423217086856?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/2658159423217086856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/04/hope.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/2658159423217086856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/2658159423217086856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/04/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S8zG5n45KnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/B13dzLCtV-4/s72-c/LQCA63L9P1CAVA9014CAG8BZ00CA1JQ5XCCAJ25YPXCAS2MEDICAZOZO4ECAAJ2YKOCA1U9GQ8CAAFIBDBCAN4L41ZCA2QR75GCAQUF56QCAZKPTI8CAC34FVGCAWX29A6CAKTKBTRCAPQPJ2R.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-1340112830588273614</id><published>2010-04-14T11:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:41:10.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S8eH7wP-oPI/AAAAAAAAABw/EzT4p_OqR1s/s1600/crossroads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S8eH7wP-oPI/AAAAAAAAABw/EzT4p_OqR1s/s320/crossroads.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460482533843968242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In three weeks, I will have earned a Master's degree. It's an exciting achievement that has left me, frankly, scared to death. When I began graduate school in the fall of 2008, I had no idea that the journey I was embarking on would be one of the best ventures of my life. Here I was cruising along through coursework and finally, my Master's thesis. This week, when I completed my thesis and the last "i" was dotted and the last "t" crossed, I felt this inexplicable calm come over me. (Well not inexplicable, clearly I was relieved that I had finally finished the darn thing.) But more than that, I realized that at the end of every beginning is another beginning. Don't like my tautology? Ok, basically...life is full of beginnings. When you've reached an end, it's time to begin anew again. Sometimes it's scary, like if you get a divorce and have to start over. How on earth will you find yourself without your spouse? When you lose a job, where do you begin again?&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every moment of everyday provides us an opportunity to build the strength within ourselves so we can find the answers when we face life's biggest challenges. Yes, endings are sad and beginnings can be scary, but between each beginning is a chance to grow into the kind of person that is prepared to face an end. But what if it's unexpected? Even still, make each moment in your life count so much that if the bottom does fall out, you'll be ready to face the challenge head on. While another ending for me is forthcoming, the prospect of a new beginning has me more excited than scared. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-1340112830588273614?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/1340112830588273614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/04/beginnings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/1340112830588273614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/1340112830588273614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/04/beginnings.html' title='Beginnings'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S8eH7wP-oPI/AAAAAAAAABw/EzT4p_OqR1s/s72-c/crossroads.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-7266371442321588815</id><published>2010-01-25T16:03:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T16:40:47.131-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Productivity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S4xCaAyl2VI/AAAAAAAAABo/1uxwmOBSRdo/s1600-h/ar120009044164282.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S4xCaAyl2VI/AAAAAAAAABo/1uxwmOBSRdo/s320/ar120009044164282.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443799064240314706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So recently I have been extremely busy writing my thesis -- too busy to sit down and maintain my blog. So much for dreams of a literary nature...but I digress. This is a good time to stop and blog about time management and productivity. One thing that can depress, overwhelm or anger anyone is a lack of organization in his or her personal life. It is interesting to see certain people in certain professions that don't seem happy to be there. Either it is because his or her career assessment got confused with someone else's in high school or because an issue existing in his or her personal life stems from a lack of priorizitation. You know what I mean...you walk into a dry cleaners or another business that allows a little freedom in down time for the employees and see the person that is supposed to help you sitting there and doing something unrelated to the nature of the business. You walk up to the counter and are greeted with a sigh and rolled eyes. "Can I help you?" he or she mumbles in that "seriously, you wait until I get into reading my novel to walk in here?" tone. The same tone that makes you feel like you've done something wrong. Don't worry though. It's not your fault. You've only given them items of your clothing to have cleaned. Silly you. Wanting to get your clothes cleaned at a dry cleaners while the employee on duty reads a novel. It's not like she had to do the cleaning. All she has to do is push the button until the letter corresponding to your last name rolls around and you identify which items are yours. But wait, you've even remembered to bring in your ticket with the number on it. She doesn't even have to ask for your name. Technology good. Lazy employee with no work ethic bad...but I digress. If this employee is you or someone you know then it's time you learned how to spread joy to others and receive your own by simple techniques to keep you organized.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Leave home at home.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many people nowadays are getting hired because of the issues with other people's credit scores. This means that a qualified applicant that defaulted on his student loans may not get a job in retail because of his credit score. So, a less qualified applicant that is a friend to FICO will get the job -- despite her lack of work ethic. So you are faced with people playing Nintendo DS's and following Ashton Kutcher on Twitter on their Blackberry when they are supposed to be assisting you. If it is in fact YOU who gets the job, do the modern world a favor and leave activities that you do at home -- at home. Managers are less apt to hire someone who seems to be very inept at running a cash register but very adept at sending a text to twenty people without looking at the keys and that doesn't mean that someone should be you. Good employees are now hard to find, and it may be an inbetween transition kind of thing, but still put your best foot forward. That will go a long way in the future when you want to get a real job, and I don't mean being promoted to shift leader at Slurpee Heaven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Leave work at work.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many families and friendships end because of this one simple thing. You come home and your secretary or your co-worker didn't prioritize and now you have to pick up the slack -- after you leave the office. NO! This is a good opportunity to exercise some boundaries. You can cover a shift or two for a co-worker whose grandmother is sick in the hospital, but please don't put yourself out for an irresponsible one who just wants to get to the club before the wet t-shirt contest begins. This is a surefire way to diminish your needs and turn you into the crabbiest, most cantakerous person that ever lived on earth. When I worked as a 9-1-1 calltaker right out of college my parents, who believed in the value of a dollar, told me to quit right away. I was unhappy, starving myself and vicious to everyone that looked in my direction. I couldn't leave work in the building. I brought it home with me everyday. I took my parents' advice and never looked back. My supervisor begged me to stay and even stood behind her desk dumbfounded when I brought in a box containing my uniforms and two week notice. "What's this?" she asked me. She honestly thought I just needed new uniforms. She's probably still losing sleep at night at why turnover is just so high in the job, and even if she isn't I'm sure some work related crisis is still on her mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Make a to-do list&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This seems like a no brainer and most people have decided that it doesn't work, but take my advice: IT DOES. Don't write things on the list that don't require recognition. This is where some people go wrong. Habitual things like, shower or pick up paper from end of driveway are some things that you normally do everyday. But if you've got something on your mind that you absolutely must do: "Mail mortgage payment" or take "Sparky to the vet" then these are the things that you may need to remember. You'll feel more productive at the end of the day if you compartmentalize things, meaning write down specific things that need to get done each day and set aside a specific time to do them. Weekends and holidays may be an exception -- most offices or businesses aren't open then so you'll have more free time to do other things like "mow the lawn" or "dinner with the in-laws." If you have your to-do list in a place where you can remember to do the things that need to get done when they need to get done, you'll probably have a better time everyday. And I mean that I really do. Today's list reminded me to write a blog today.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Value yourself!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't lose sleep or miss a meal over something that is not within your power to change. This is a biggie because many people don't know the difference. Here's an example: your hair color or your shoe size. Your hair color can change but your shoe size can't. How much your boss likes you or how well you do your job. You and only you can determine how well you do, and that will never be related to how much someone likes or dislikes you. If you've done your best, then that's all you can be proud of. Forget about anyone who tries to bring you down -- they don't like the view from where they are so they'd rather you see it too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Value Others!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't go getting all starry eyed over self-love just yet! The reality is, as I started off saying in the beginning of this blog, that we don't live on earth alone. No man is an island, and if he is, good for him, transforming himself into a mass of land. At any rate, when you do land that dream job, or even if it is an in-between kind of thing, you shouldn't think that gives you free reign to treat others badly or to only think of yourself. If everyone lived by this credo, the world would truly be a better place: maybe your barista wouldn't chew gum over your latte or that sales associate would look up from where she's been folding shirts and walk you to the sales rack. Even if they don't (most of them don't and probably won't) you should still show them the best you that there is. It may not change their mind about themselves, but you'll stop worrying about whether or not you can make everyone happy -- after all, that's not your goal. Treating them like it is, is a good way to start though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-7266371442321588815?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/7266371442321588815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/01/productivity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7266371442321588815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7266371442321588815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2010/01/productivity.html' title='Productivity'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/S4xCaAyl2VI/AAAAAAAAABo/1uxwmOBSRdo/s72-c/ar120009044164282.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-1327311306877839185</id><published>2009-09-07T20:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T21:02:32.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let "the one" find you....You just be you!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/SqW7EAEStqI/AAAAAAAAABg/tZ3wX_064e4/s1600-h/PrideAndPrejudice02_cmyk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/SqW7EAEStqI/AAAAAAAAABg/tZ3wX_064e4/s320/PrideAndPrejudice02_cmyk.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378911007375799970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:verdana;font-size:11px;"&gt;I was once fortunate enough to have stumbled upon the last copy of Pride and Prejudice at the bookstore in the bus terminal in Kwangju, South Korea (and in English, no less!). After punishing myself for never having read this piece of classic literature (I WAS an English major, you know) I discovered one immutable truth. That the most notable thing about the book was Mr. Darcy and his deep affection for the book's heroine, Elizabeth Bennett. I was deeply touched by his most endearing qualities, the romanticism, the love thinly veiled as hate, the pride within his station, the fiction of it all. Alas! I was struck with an epiphany. Must I wait for my Mr. Darcy? Readers of this marvelous work of literature have focused their attentions solely on his actions, and rightly so. Society has taught us that in order for a relationship to work well, one must wait for the other to make a move. This ideal has always tipped the scales in favor of those of the male persuasion to do all the pursuing. If only men still walked around and clubbed women over the head. That would save them the pain of rejection and us the trouble of rejecting. But after a closer examination I discovered that the most notable thing about this story is not Mr. Darcy's strong attraction to our dear Lizzie. It is the fact that she was so unyielding in her desire to just be herself. It was this fact that made her indeed as real a person as anyone can ever claim to be. She worked hard at maintaining who SHE was, and at times doing so only attempting to repel Mr. Darcy even further from her. Ironically, it was this that intrigued him the most. The lesson we girls can learn from this story is that we must not merely sit around waiting for Mr. Darcy to come and call on us at our places of residence. Instead, we should work on discovering who we are as individuals, never trying to be who and what we're not, perfecting it all the while so when Mr. Darcy does come along we will undoubtedly bewitch him body and soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-1327311306877839185?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/1327311306877839185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/09/let-one-find-youyou-just-be-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/1327311306877839185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/1327311306877839185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/09/let-one-find-youyou-just-be-you.html' title='Let &quot;the one&quot; find you....You just be you!'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/SqW7EAEStqI/AAAAAAAAABg/tZ3wX_064e4/s72-c/PrideAndPrejudice02_cmyk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-7535353338088561434</id><published>2009-08-12T12:12:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T12:52:31.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Living Abroad Rocks and Why it's great to be an American</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/SoMA58qyYCI/AAAAAAAAABY/o0a2As1kZTE/s1600-h/seoul1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/SoMA58qyYCI/AAAAAAAAABY/o0a2As1kZTE/s320/seoul1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369136176293896226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So I was sitting in my room yesterday trying to conjure up some clever anecdote to put on my blog today. It was disappointing when I could come up with nothing. However, given my past experiences during my life I was able to compile a list of the things I missed the most while living abroad and the things I missed most about living in Korea. With the current state of the economy, a small contingency of citizens have decided to move overseas to wait out the recession. Now I know what every red-blooded American thinks: You don't run out on your country. But I'm of a different mind -- though I won't state it here, I can honestly say that living abroad is NOT necessarily running out on your country. After all, most Americans don't even have a passport, so that small contingency of citizens will more than likely be back (hey look at me, I'm not blogging from some airport in Jakarta, I'm here in Music City, U.S.A.). So if you're wondering what to do, whether you should stay here and bleed red, white and blue, or go overseas and spout your Americanist wisdom, read my list first. It is by no means exhaustive, but I think you'll get the picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The things I missed most about America while I was living in Ko&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rea&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Vegetarian Hot Dogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;I don't eat meat so just the idea of a hot dog sent me into depression. Also, I don't remember seeing an hot dog buns over there either, then again I didn't have a membership to Costco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. May-November Sweeps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;For fun my roommates and I used to watch Korean soap operas and create our own dialogue. It got so bad after awhile I actually tried to make sense of the actual dialogue. I went to bed with many a headache. At any rate, we've got something going over here with primetime television. After all, once I moved to an apartment with cable, every show imaginable that we watch here in America came on. Looks like our shows are even more popular than their own. I love America.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Wearing shoes indoors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;This includes fitness centers, restaurants, dentist's offices, doctor's offices and our very own homes. That was hard at first. But when I first came home, my family looked at me like I was crazy when I held everybody up from entering the house by taking my shoes off first. I actually got to be pretty quick at putting my shoes on and off as a result of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Cutlery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;Enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;See the explanation of #4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. Shopping Malls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;They have no idea the concept of the shopping mall in some places. Don't get me wrong, outdoor markets can be fun, cheap and cultural, but there's nothing like an entire building smelling exactly like Abercrombie and Fitch wanted it to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Obscurity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;People will stare at you in Asia. There's no getting around it. Just wear your biggest most glamorous sunglasses and make like you're evading the paparazzi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. Not worrying about whether or not I’d survive crossing the street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;Taxi's in most countries drive like they're drag racing. I once had to pay an extra few bucks on my fare because my driver got out of the taxi and left the meter running while he had an argument with a bus driver who came dangerously close to hitting us. I'm all for fighting for the safety of your passengers, but dude stop the meter and I may even hold him while you get in a few punches. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. Not worrying about bird flu or Kim Jong Il&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;That's right. I said it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  font-weight: bold; font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;The things I missed most about Korea upon returning to America:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Worrying about bird flu and Kim Jong Il&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;That's right. I said it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Worrying about whether or not I’d survive crossing the street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;People are so polite here. I wanted to say something to someone to make them gun their engine so I could flail my arms and run across the street. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Watching re-runs of CSI ( I got to catch up on what I’d forgotten about)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;Worked wonders on those rainy afternoons when I couldn't go anywhere or didn't want to. Plus I was here in the off seasons so I missed most of the episodes. Because they were a season behind, I could watch one season of CSI, and come home all caught up and ready for the new seasons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Taking my shoes off upon entering the house (and the shoe rack by the door, but this counts as one thing)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;As I said before, my family complained because I was blocking the door. I just wanted to show off my quick shoe removal skills.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Street vendors (I’m from Tennessee, we do NOT believe in that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;If I'm hungry, I have to get into the car and drive to the nearest restaurant or grocery store. In Korea, I could literally go up to the corner and get a bag full of doughnuts or my favorite wintertime treat, Boong-oh bang (fish shaped bread with red bean inside of it). It was always fresh, hot, and delicious. Who cares about the germs floating around in the atmosphere? I could get a whole bag of those things for like $1.00. Man I miss that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. “Designer” handbags&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;I am now the proud owner of two Louis Vuitton's and one Marc Jacobs. But only my handbag seller knows for sure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Being stared at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;I bought several pairs of sunglasses and practiced my evasive mode just for this. When I visited Europe the first thing I noted was that people weren't staring at me. Well they were, but that was in Italy, and it was for a different reason. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. Chopsticks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;I know, right? Chopsticks? I can't eat Ramen noodles without them to this day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. Korean people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:16px;"&gt;Let me be the first to say, that they also rock! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/5246351340964525616-7535353338088561434?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/7535353338088561434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-living-abroad-rocks-and-why-its.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7535353338088561434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7535353338088561434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-living-abroad-rocks-and-why-its.html' title='Why Living Abroad Rocks and Why it&apos;s great to be an American'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/SoMA58qyYCI/AAAAAAAAABY/o0a2As1kZTE/s72-c/seoul1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-7104979215855628375</id><published>2009-08-09T14:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T14:36:56.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I just want a sunroof: How NOT to have your needs diminished</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/Sn8lTnl1dDI/AAAAAAAAABA/U_W5SHKsKSk/s1600-h/McD%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/Sn8lTnl1dDI/AAAAAAAAABA/U_W5SHKsKSk/s320/McD%27s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368050299824337970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Ok, I know you. You’re the safe one. The “just” guy. That very word. That very little word can get you into trouble. You think you can get away with using it without hurting someone’s feelings, but you end up with more than you wanted and nothing you needed. Listen up! There are six ways (or even more, depends on how much space I have and how much time you have) to stop having your needs diminished. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;1 - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My story&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;I bought a car in 2006 and it ended up being something I didn’t want because I simply said the words “I just want a sunroof.” Ultimately there’s nothing wrong with that except if you’re not specific in your requests you set yourself up for people to walk all over you. So yes folks, I drove away from the car lot in tears in a car I didn't want, a car I didn't like, with a car note I didn't need. And no, it didn't even have a sunroof. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;2 - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On not using the word “just” all the time&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;Be sure that you don’t use this word. Ever. I’ll give you an example: You walk into McDonalds for the umpteenth time and you already KNOW what you want. Let me repeat that: YOU already KNOW what YOU want. However, this is how the conversation goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;McD’s: May I help you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;You: I just want a big mac.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;McD’s: Would you like fries with that?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;Now I’m going to stop right there because McDonald’s employees can spot a “just” guy from a mile away. They’re trained to&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;recognize you. You’ve walked into the restaurant and you’ve made their day. If you look up and see that people are now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;arbitrarily doing things behind the counter it’s because they’ve waited all day for the “just” guy and here he is. They get to see &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;this in action. Saying “I just want a  big mac” is a surefire way to get your needs diminished. It leaves the door open for them to &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;suggest other things, (which they’ve already done) you may not want and/or need (i.e. would you like fries with that?). If you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;cave in, you’ll leave with chicken nuggets, a milkshake, and an order of...you guessed it: fries! You’ve been trampled on (in a nondirect way may I add) and yes, you are leaving with more than you expected but none of what you wanted or needed and it’s all at your own expense. You can remember this when it matters and when it doesn’t, like in the illustration I’ve just given here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;3 - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On getting the job you want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;Be sure and stay within your field. I know there’s a recession, but believe it or not it can be a blessing. The reason? You can now focus ALL of your energy into a productive job search by breaking into the industry that you want to be in. Don’t waste your time applying for jobs for which you’re not qualified just because it sounds good or you can do it for “now.” In the long run you’ll waste your time, because when the economy picks up again you’ll have trouble finding a job in your field because you don’t have any practical experience in it or less experience than the guy that gets the job. Lots of people will tell you what to do, but you’re the one that needs to decide. DON’T solicit advice from everyone you know because you need the decision to be made for you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;4 - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On setting goals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;A good rule of thumb is to resist the urge to tell everyone what you’re working on. Not just for copyright purposes, but because they will ALL have input or negative feedback. One way to not have your needs diminished in this capacity is to share your goals with people who you know will encourage you. Also, set up a plan for your own edification before you even share it with anyone. For example, when I decided to go to Korea, I didn’t tell my closest friends because I had the reputation for being fickle when it came to doing things. About one month before I was to depart and I had my visa and plane tickets in hand, I told them. Sure enough they didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe me until they drove me to the airport to see me off. Four years later they’re still in shock. Had I told them before I had filled out the application and done all the necessary requirements, they would have discouraged me. Not intentionally, but they would have reminded me that I probably wouldn’t go. From then, they now resist the urge to discourage my plans because I held my peace until I was sure that I was ready to go. When I decided to go to law school everyone’s opinions of me had changed. I had nothing but accolades and “we thought you should but didn’t want to say anything.” So fight the desire to share everything with everyone. If you look back and see you’ve become a jack of all trades and a master of none, then it’s time to re-evaluate just what it is that you’ve been allowing to encourage or discourage you from following through with your goals.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;5 - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On not being a jack of all trades and a master of none&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; I think now is a good time to talk about taking up many things and not finishing any of them. When Debi Thomas got the silver medal in figure skating in 1988 I insisted that my father buy me a pair of ice skates and get me lessons. I meant I was going to do what she did. So my father bought me figure skates but I only used them three or four times in college when my school took its annual ice skating party. I know what you’re thinking and yes, I could wear the same size shoe from the time I was eight just about. But actually you’re thinking you have the same story or a similar one, unless you’re Debi Thomas and if you are then, good job on following through with your dreams. But if you’re not an Olympic champion or an Isaac Stern or a Michael Jordan then listen up. There are certain ways to not have your needs diminished by not diminishing them yourself. If you’re not ready to commit to a tremendous task, such as learning to swim the 800m relay or say, write a novel then do one thing in stages. Find your niche. Not everyone was meant to be a savant or musical genius like Beethoven (who we all hate when we think about what a young and talented prodigy he was, argh...). But each of us has a distinct calling and purpose. When I was unemployed for a year, I was tempted to feel sorry for myself. I didn’t believe that I was worth doing something as wonderful as writing a New York Times Bestseller. I mean, how’s that for an unrealistic dream? But the reality was, there weren’t many jobs for person with a Bachelor’s and a Master’s in English. I took the road less traveled and followed my dream of becoming a writer and when I had the opportunity to do what I wanted, I discovered I wouldn't rather generate income than sit around doing what I truly loved. Did I truly love it, or was it just another one of my “dreams?” Ask yourself this question when you’re faced with the opportunity to follow your heart. Is it practical? Is it necessary? Is it something you must do at all costs? Once you’ve gotten the answers to these questions and more, then you can decide to keep your 9-5, become homeless, or turn your passion into a project and ultimately your profession.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;6 - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On not losing your focus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; With all that’s been said, you may be tempted to do something else in the meantime because someone else says you should or Matt Lauer did a segment on the Today show this morning about not following your dreams in the midst of this economic crisis. Don’t focus on that. Unless your life is in financial peril or ruin, you shouldn’t worry about jeopardizing your future. You and only you can decide what makes you happy, what you're good at, and what your limitations are. Don't think about what your former roommate is doing. Who cares if she's living in a mansion with a gorgeous husband? That's her life, and while it may seem like it's all it's cracked up to be, all that glitters is not gold my friend. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-7104979215855628375?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/7104979215855628375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-just-want-sunroof-how-not-to-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7104979215855628375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/7104979215855628375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-just-want-sunroof-how-not-to-have.html' title='I just want a sunroof: How NOT to have your needs diminished'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/Sn8lTnl1dDI/AAAAAAAAABA/U_W5SHKsKSk/s72-c/McD%27s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246351340964525616.post-5758281311519787056</id><published>2009-08-07T14:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T14:54:04.018-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/Sn8pUAZvLtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/hFudOQX6rDE/s1600-h/social-networking-sites.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/Sn8pUAZvLtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/hFudOQX6rDE/s320/social-networking-sites.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368054704530992850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the world of social networking -- Twitter, Facebook, Myspace, Blogger -- we can now all for the price of a few minutes of our time read what people are doing at every moment of every day of their lives. Or we can share what we're doing every moment of every day of our own lives, hoping that we can somehow market what we can do. But now as long as you can type, log onto the internet or create a three-step blog, you can write. Since when did sharing the gorry details of my day become literary? That being said, I want to be the first to welcome me to the wonderful world of the wide world blog!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5246351340964525616-5758281311519787056?l=kellisaba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/feeds/5758281311519787056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/08/tmi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/5758281311519787056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5246351340964525616/posts/default/5758281311519787056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kellisaba.blogspot.com/2009/08/tmi.html' title='TMI'/><author><name>Elisaba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05751202636025283454</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--qUXY_60wmk/TYPWnUJa6qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bNy9R0mIi5I/s220/DSC_0273.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fMi0_KZN2Go/Sn8pUAZvLtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/hFudOQX6rDE/s72-c/social-networking-sites.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
