<?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-4114002205986938705</id><updated>2011-09-11T21:25:39.747-05:00</updated><category term='future'/><category term='women'/><category term='vision'/><category term='father'/><category term='sunday'/><category term='starting over'/><category term='confidence'/><category term='storytelling'/><category term='music'/><category term='gratitude'/><category term='faith'/><category term='hope'/><category term='life'/><category term='mom fear contentment'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='commitment'/><category term='church'/><category term='words'/><category term='fantasy'/><category term='emotion'/><category term='redemption'/><category term='work emotion math'/><category term='family'/><category term='beauty'/><category term='love'/><category term='work'/><category term='questions'/><category term='sociology'/><category term='eudaimonia'/><title type='text'>Ramblings, Wild Hairs, and Epiphanies</title><subtitle type='html'>just whatever comes to mind</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>78</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1275566909774802066</id><published>2011-09-11T21:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T21:22:08.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>shoes</title><content type='html'>I am not very good at vacations...I don't really relax.  I don't really plan.  And, when I have time off, I stress so much about what to do, what not to do, how much time I'm wasting....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for this weekend.  I simply was.  I did not set my alarm, I did not try to plan, book, schedule anything.  I just let the day happen.  I just let myself be.  It was a bit unnerving at times.  Admittedly, I found myself anxious on occasion.  And, I currently find myself reminiscing over the things I didn't do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet,  I am finding that this week has been one of the most care-free, relaxing, spontaneous times of my life.  I don't feel off balance.  I don't regret my decisions, or lack thereof. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply am comfortable in the shoes I'm currently in.  I find that I don't even have to be Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City to enjoy my own louboutin's. And that feels exsquisite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1275566909774802066?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.christianlouboutin.com/#/intro' title='shoes'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1275566909774802066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1275566909774802066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1275566909774802066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1275566909774802066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2011/09/shoes.html' title='shoes'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4824124066517753607</id><published>2011-06-13T14:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T14:25:20.256-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='father'/><title type='text'>Knock Knock, Who's There?</title><content type='html'>So, here I am at work on a Monday....and my mind can do nothing else but think about this past Saturday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knocked on someone's door...actually not just anyone's door.  It was someone who is potentially (most likely) my biological father.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't answer.  He was home.  He couldn't face me, his daughter...his very own flesh and blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this morning, I'm knocking on Heaven's Door...to ask the one who is supposed to be close to the brokenhearted to help me keep going...because I'm still breathing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4824124066517753607?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4824124066517753607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4824124066517753607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4824124066517753607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4824124066517753607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2011/06/knock-knock-whos-there.html' title='Knock Knock, Who&apos;s There?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1242342053045488029</id><published>2011-02-21T11:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T11:52:56.096-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><title type='text'>How 'Bout Them Apples?</title><content type='html'>I love, absolutely love movies...especially movies that really seem to resonate.  Years ago, I watched the movie, "Good Will Hunting".  I distinctively remember watching it with my mom.  I am from a small town, and we had to drive 30 minutes to the nearest town with a movie theatre just to see it.  It was quite an occasion for she &amp;amp; I.  I rarely watched movies in the theatre, even less so with my mom.  I don't remember all of the details about that day.  I do remember that our relationship wasn't doing so well.  But, it's days that I miss her most that I reminisce about any memory I have, good or bad.  I am happy to be at a place now in my life in which I can remember her as a whole person, not just as a person that, for lack of a better word/phrase, abused me.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember that I adored this movie.  I recently watched it just a few days ago.  I had forgotten how foul the language was &amp;amp; how raw the movie seemed.  And I think what I liked most about the movie is the store of redemption.  This guy has a horrible upbringing, being shifted to foster home to foster home, and even though he is essentially a genius, he has no sense of safety.  He trusts only a few, as he's found that others will fail him.  He's settled in an environment that is safe, even though it's not best.  Through meeting someone else, a counselor, he is able to grasp what his life would be if he could forgive, let go of the past, and move on.  It's easy to think that someone else should do that...much more difficult on our own to do such.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love redemption &amp;amp; restoration.  I strive for that in my own life, and try to help others achieve that in their own.  Maybe that's what I love so much about the movie.  Maybe that's why the memory of seeing that movie with my mom is so poignant.  Every day that I miss her, I am so thankful that our relationship was restored.  I am thankful for those individuals in mine &amp;amp; in hers that led us into a new path, one of forgiviness, faith, and hope.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I am going to try to look for the story of redemption in everyone I see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1242342053045488029?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119217/' title='How &apos;Bout Them Apples?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1242342053045488029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1242342053045488029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1242342053045488029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1242342053045488029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-bout-them-apples.html' title='How &apos;Bout Them Apples?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4136628571441760462</id><published>2011-02-03T18:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T18:21:30.375-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Job Description</title><content type='html'>So, my job has recently changed. At least part of it has. Part of my time at the office is now specifically categorized as "missionary care ", where essentially I simply contact our missionaries to see how they are doing. &lt;br/&gt; &lt;br/&gt; How cool is that? &lt;br/&gt; &lt;br/&gt; What I like best about this new position is that it is a position formatted toward my strengths, &amp; one that I can personally be involved in the evolution process. &lt;br/&gt; &lt;br/&gt; I am beyond ecstatic. &lt;br/&gt; &lt;br/&gt; What I hope to accomplish in this is to be waaay more than my job description. &lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.6&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4136628571441760462?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4136628571441760462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4136628571441760462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4136628571441760462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4136628571441760462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2011/02/job-description.html' title='Job Description'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-8080105627045472182</id><published>2011-01-31T11:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T11:07:43.861-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confidence'/><title type='text'>Sometimes You're the Windshield...</title><content type='html'>...And sometimes you're the bug.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend was one of those kinda weekends.  It seems like in my life when I am doing pretty well, things are moving at a certain pace, no hiccups, or obstacles to really deal with, those are the times I am supposed to look around me to see if there's someone else who is experiencing such.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This Saturday was just that.  A "bug" kind of day for my roommate, my friend, one who is like family to me.  She is strong for those around her, and can help in just about any situation.  But, this weekend she got news that just seemed to swallow her confidence, her resolve.  Luckily, she had friends &amp;amp; family that were able to just let her "be the bug".  I am grateful that I have friends in my life that I can just completely be myself around.  Hopefully, this weekend I was able to be the kind of friend she needed.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully the bug days are few &amp;amp; far between this year.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-8080105627045472182?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/8080105627045472182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=8080105627045472182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8080105627045472182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8080105627045472182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2011/01/sometimes-youre-windshield.html' title='Sometimes You&apos;re the Windshield...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-9047496381780043689</id><published>2011-01-27T18:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T18:35:01.961-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew...</title><content type='html'>Well, I started a new blog.  He he he.  I don't even consistently write this one, so I'm not sure how I am gonna maintain two.  Perhaps this blog will be more of my personal writings, saved for epiphanies, wild hairs, ramblings, and the like (wink). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This other new blog I've created will hopefully be a more of a chronicle of my health.  You see, I started going to a chiropractor to keep from being in pain every day.  It's my hands, they hurt all the time, all day long.  I've been known to wake up to them hurting.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, to help keep myself accountable, &amp;amp; to account for the success, I decided to blog.  I feel like Julie from the movie Julie &amp;amp; Julia.  We'll see....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trying to chew now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-9047496381780043689?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/9047496381780043689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=9047496381780043689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9047496381780043689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9047496381780043689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2011/01/sometimes-i-bite-off-more-than-i-can.html' title='Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2751191397796562290</id><published>2010-11-11T09:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T09:26:41.744-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Take it easy....</title><content type='html'>The other day I listened to one of my favorite speakers Rob Bell.  He pastors Mars Hill Bible Church.  I believe that if I lived there, I would plant my roots at that church.  Since I don't, I simply listen.  Sometimes I don't always like what I hear....sometimes I'm not even ready for it.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, sometimes, I'm absolutely floored by what I hear.  Right now, they're speaking on The Kingdom of God.  I think the title is &lt;a href="http://http://marshill.org/teaching/2010/10/24/weeds/"&gt;WEEDS&lt;/a&gt;.  Basically, what spoke to me was the part where as believers, we want God to have already fixed us, hurry up already is sorta the sentiment.  I know that sentiment all too well. I want to be completely healthy &amp;amp; whole yesterday.  But that is not how God's timing works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Essentially, the message communicated to me: "Take it easy" (imagine the Eagles playing in the background).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, today, I'm gonna do exactly that.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2751191397796562290?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2751191397796562290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2751191397796562290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2751191397796562290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2751191397796562290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2010/11/take-it-easy.html' title='Take it easy....'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5643368414408839854</id><published>2010-08-30T10:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T10:47:08.956-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starting over'/><title type='text'>GTD</title><content type='html'>Okay, &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, it's not even the beginning of September, but 3 years ago (September 2007) I started this blog, sortof a way to put many of my rambling thoughts down on "virtual" paper, if you will.  I wanted my writing to expand, to develop, to become more than what it was...I wanted my posts to breathe, to have weight, to shed light on things that mattered to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to once again pick up the "pen &amp;amp; paper" &amp;amp; have a voice.  I'm back in the ring, back on the saddle, in the game again....I'm sure I could think of a few other overused axioms to fill in...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I still have a few wild hairs left, &amp;amp; who knows, maybe I'll have an epiphany or two yet.  I can certainly always ramble...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5643368414408839854?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5643368414408839854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5643368414408839854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5643368414408839854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5643368414408839854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2010/08/gtd.html' title='GTD'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6436548793756238449</id><published>2009-03-28T22:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T22:40:36.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>broken</title><content type='html'>---According to a Strengthsfinder 2.0 survey, one of my "gifts' is something called restorative...I like to fix things.  More than that though, I like the thought of fixing people.  When we pray for someone to be healed and they are, He fixes them, or even more mind-blogging...their faith fixes what was broken.  Over and over again scripture speaks of someone's faith making him/her well again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---So much brokenness exists around me, and yet I don't have a clue how to fix any of it, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6436548793756238449?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6436548793756238449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6436548793756238449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6436548793756238449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6436548793756238449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2009/03/broken.html' title='broken'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4119884153516523493</id><published>2008-11-14T22:52:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T23:10:16.930-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom fear contentment'/><title type='text'>family, fairytales, and fear</title><content type='html'>I have found it so very difficult to write anything as of late. I wrote a "draft", but decided not to publish it. It has been slightly over a month since my mother's funeral. Her passing was so sudden I did not even get to say good-bye. I must admit that I have not been quite sure on how to grieve...mourn...whatever the word is in which one tries to move on. For a time, my heart ached so severely, I thought surely I was having anxiety attacks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply did not want to move on...I wanted to go back in time. I wanted her back. I wanted a different reality, perhaps even a fairytale. I believe that I was even beginning to shut down. I since willed myself to move on. My heart aches still, but less so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that she said to me has been reverberating in my mind lately. She spoke of how I am always searching...And for the longest time, I resented what she was telling me. However, tonight, upon watching the movie Finding Neverland, I experienced a glimpse of what she was saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am afraid of not being enough, not doing enough, not knowing enough, I am generally just afraid to experience so much of life. And, that fear haunts me. I try to figure it out, decipher parts of myself, self-diagnose,etc....you get the picture. Yet, in my efforts at trying so hard to fix what's "wrong" with me, I fail to find the things that are "right". I long to be content in my own skin...and hopefully that day will come before I am ninety!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4119884153516523493?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4119884153516523493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4119884153516523493' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4119884153516523493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4119884153516523493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/11/family-fairytales-and-fear.html' title='family, fairytales, and fear'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-8102741321420294425</id><published>2008-10-04T23:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T23:30:56.109-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vision'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beauty'/><title type='text'>women</title><content type='html'>I am four feet ten or eleven, depending on which doctor's office I am at, or perhaps from some measuring dispenser. I wear whatever I have purchased as cheaply as I could, or some form of hand-me-downs from friends and loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have great hair.  I thank God for my hair that most days seems to manage itself, and look pretty grand.  It would probably look better if maintained with regular haircuts, colors, and the like...but, that kind of maintenance wears me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not graceful, I am rather clumsy.  Only when I am dancing do I feel somewhat agile, and steady.  Although, I like to pretend sometimes a runway model, and do "the walk".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know my beauty, and the limits of it.  I was speaking with a male co-worker, and we agreed that it's probably better to have a real assessment of your looks, and even better to have almost an ignorant one.  For, the person who knows accurately how they can appeal to someone else can as we all know become cocky, arrogant,etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best part that I like about myself is that I am a woman.  I love, love, love being a woman.  I don't always love the walk that is mine in being one, but I love that I got the chance to be female, and not male.  Not to hate on the boys or anything, but I enjoy being able to share with another person my emotions, feelings, etc. Guys miss out when they don't do that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have been thinking these last few weeks of the vision of my life, and what I am to do.  I have these sort of grandiose ideas of becoming something great; the reality of it is, my name will probably not be known a hundred years from now.  But, I do believe in personal responsibility, and feel as though my purpose, my existence is waiting...waiting on me to find the next piece of the puzzle of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;w-o-m-e-n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love being around women, I love to hear their stories, I love to share in their moments of joy, as well as show sympathy in their sorrows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to do something that "gives back" to women, that helps them enrich their lives, something that can tell their stories, something that can make them grandmothers who speak wisdom to their grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;helping in a women's shelter, helping women escape from human trafficking, helping women survive breast cancer...these are only a few avenues...now, for a clearer vision...like the man that Jesus healed...I can see men who look like trees walking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-8102741321420294425?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/8102741321420294425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=8102741321420294425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8102741321420294425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8102741321420294425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/10/women.html' title='women'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1881766037668310067</id><published>2008-09-24T11:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T11:06:19.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>vow of silence, sort of...</title><content type='html'>I am a different believer than I used to be…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though I’ve changed over these last few years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer have signs visibly giving attention to my faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Christian t-shirt, no bumper sticker promising to ride with Him, no bible study or Sunday school attendance to account for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more and yet, less at the same time.  I am more aware that I don’t look the part.  I am less visible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure if that is enough for my brothers and sisters, as I know that we don’t live in an age of drawing convictions in the sand.  We need people to tattoo Jesus on their skin. We need signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I am okay with not being enough, because I know that someday I will be more balanced, more visible, less hidden.  Until then…hopefully my life speaks louder than my words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1881766037668310067?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1881766037668310067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1881766037668310067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1881766037668310067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1881766037668310067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/09/vow-of-silence-sort-of.html' title='vow of silence, sort of...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-8033189735706359453</id><published>2008-09-23T21:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T21:55:05.411-05:00</updated><title type='text'>self-reflection</title><content type='html'>I hit a wall these last two weeks.  Even though I have tried to stay positive and inspired, nothing has helped to get me out of whatever "funk" I was in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, today I was unbelievably honest with a friend...a friend that I hardly know.  I told him how I am in friendship.  I am the perfect person if you have an emergency. However, I am not the best friend to have if you need someone day-to-day.  This is something that I have come to realize over the last year or so.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not exactly sure how to "work" on it, other than being there in the "day-to-day" with a person.  And, until then, I plan on just giving a disclaimer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"friend during the hard times only"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-8033189735706359453?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/8033189735706359453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=8033189735706359453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8033189735706359453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8033189735706359453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/09/self-reflection.html' title='self-reflection'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2820293372200357612</id><published>2008-09-06T19:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T22:48:36.431-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>things I just don't understand...</title><content type='html'>here are just a few questions on my mind lately...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can someone please explain this bailout thing to me in "layman's" terms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can someone please explain to me why people still walk their dogs and run on the road, when there is a perfectly good sidewalk to walk and run on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...here lately there seems to be a million things that I just don't understand.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want a million and one saturdays to happen together all in one-right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to escape.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2820293372200357612?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2820293372200357612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2820293372200357612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2820293372200357612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2820293372200357612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/09/things-i-just-dont-understand.html' title='things I just don&apos;t understand...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7326157108757161551</id><published>2008-09-03T22:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:03:43.734-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><title type='text'>relapse</title><content type='html'>this week I had a relapse...of sorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been so angry this past week.  I have fallen off the happy wagon.  I have remembered the pain and the hurt all over again...complete with memories attached.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that I was fine with moving on...with acclimating to my new life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I have a small encounter with a person that has manipulated me, hurt me, and lied to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floods of emotions come like torrents, and I once again guard myself, ready for the weight and the pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I wasn't quite over it all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7326157108757161551?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7326157108757161551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7326157108757161551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7326157108757161551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7326157108757161551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/09/relapse.html' title='relapse'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7906393799770234560</id><published>2008-08-25T22:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T23:04:38.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Week's Theme:</title><content type='html'>-I have all of these things in my head that I want to say.  It's just that they come and go so quickly I don't have enough time to write them all down-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;themes in circulation at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forgiveness...letting go...losing my self-control...working way too much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peacemaking...piano playing...baby-sitting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;career-changing...learning about Biden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Oh, and I just ate 3.6 oz. of Ben &amp; Jerry's Cookie Dough Ice Cream that I bought at Kroger's for $1.  Really, it's overpriced, but proportionately, the perfect amount of ice cream consumption. Yum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7906393799770234560?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7906393799770234560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7906393799770234560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7906393799770234560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7906393799770234560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-weeks-theme.html' title='This Week&apos;s Theme:'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5506089611194938569</id><published>2008-08-12T18:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T19:10:48.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lance Armstrong's One Regret</title><content type='html'>I love to listen to things at work.  You'd think that I might be always wanting to "woo" it up, listening in on everyone's conversations, adding my two cents whenever I can, and basically just be my nosey self.  Well, the truth is that I like to put my headphones and just ingest whatever I can, whether it be listening to new artists that sound like my favorite on www.pandora.com or listening to interviews, audio books, and lectures one learnoutloud.com.  I am a bit of an information junkie.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw the clip of the day being an interview with Lance Armstrong at 2007 Aspen Ideas Festival which I think is totally cool!  I enjoyed the interview, and was taken back by the question and answer someone asked and Lance answered.  The audience member asked him if had any regrets in his life.  I assumed that naturally he might regret some sort of time that he wish he would have finished with, or something of that nature.  Honestly, I expected him to cockily admit that he had not regrets, yada yada yada.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, he candidly admitted that his divorce was the one thing that he regretted.  And his reason for giving it was that it could never be put on the "W" shelf (for winning).  But, that it would always go under the "F" shelf.  And although he and his ex-wife share a amicable relationship and work to provide as much of a stable environment for their children as they can, this is something that he could not work hard enough on to salvage, and save, and keep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate someone of his social status to admitting something like that.  It is a hard thing to admit.  failure.  And, I don't know all the things that caused this failure of divorce in his life.  But, what I do know is that overall he is not a failure.  This one thing on the shelf, the "F" shelf, is just that...one thing on the shelf.  It does not define him.  He has plenty of things that he can look to on the the "W" shelf.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time shortly after my seperation and divorce in which I attributed everything I did wrong as a comparison to the "F" on my shelf...my own divorce.  I filtered every mistake through the lens of that situation.  I assumed that since I had failed at that, then no wonder I was failing to complete tasks at work, and making mistakes, etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not quite sure how exactly, but listening to him speak about a difficult topic helped me in those few moments.  I can't fully explain it, other than saying that I came away with a belief that I don't have to be defined exclusively by what I have done.  The definition of who I am is so much more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whew...long post that was!  I blame it on all the writing I am supposed to be doing for school! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5506089611194938569?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5506089611194938569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5506089611194938569' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5506089611194938569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5506089611194938569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/08/lance-armstrongs-one-regret.html' title='Lance Armstrong&apos;s One Regret'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4686566593789263517</id><published>2008-08-12T18:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T18:36:31.137-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eudaimonia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sociology'/><title type='text'>vision</title><content type='html'>Last week I admitted to my boss that I have no vision as to where the division of the organization that I work for was going. I did not know the steps it would take to get it where it needed to go. I was terrified to admit this, mainly because I felt as though at some level this was an unwritten responsibility of mine. Not because it exists in my job description but, because there has been a void as of late. Specifically, the division I work in is in "maintenance" stage. The tires have air in them, the oil checks are done, and the spark plugs are change,etc. But no new accessories are added like a GPS system, no body paint has been sprayed, nothing new and shiny, if you will. So, the question for me is am I good at keeping it at its maintenance stage. Am I good at my job?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This question of vision has been coming around a lot to me lately. I do not have a clue of where I will be after I finish school. I don't even know if anyone will even consider me, even after I receive my degree. My assumption is that the work and effort I am putting into going back to school will afford me a better paying career, and propel me into a life's work I can be proud of. The question for me is, what is that work? And can I begin it now before school starts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first dilemma presented to me is this: What field? Currently, I embrace all things customer service if you will. I think that my self-efficacy is high when I am serving others in this way. But, this new decision to go into the field of Sociology is serving, yes, but whom? Do I work with organizations who serve the poor or help the homeless, researching hopefully along the way how to improve peoples' lives? Or could I work for organizations that deal with adoptions, or the elderly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, I look for inspiration. But, I have yet to find a specific field that I can see myself in every single day. That is the part about being an Aquarius that can be a little frustrating. We can become very passionate and then just as quickly lose that passion and move onto something else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all goes back to my term for this season of my life: eudaimonia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to find out what it is I am purposed here for, and that everything that I am doing is furthering me to that point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4686566593789263517?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4686566593789263517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4686566593789263517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4686566593789263517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4686566593789263517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/08/vision.html' title='vision'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6015225307886732501</id><published>2008-08-12T17:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T18:11:15.497-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sick-o</title><content type='html'>I am at home resting from having a sinus infection.  boo hoo.  I watched Oprah interview Michael Moore, the anti-Bush guy who did the documentary Sicko.  I wish I knew more on this subject of healthcare in America and in other countries.  One of the audience members was from Canada and said that even though care is granted to them, there are large waiting lists.  Hmmm...In a society such as ours, I am not sure we can embrace universal healthcare when those types of issues arrive.  I work at Starbucks where the average person receives a latte in the time of one minute.  Now, a long wait is considered five to seven minutes.  Sometimes, we receive complaints from our customers about waiting.  seven minutes of their life spent on a beverage that will be consumed maybe even in that amount of time.  So, here's my question, in a immediate gratification expectancy, can we justify waiting eighteen months for care from a specialist?  I don't think so.  The answer is not quite so simple as universal health care, even though as a human being, I really believe in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I snapped at my roommate today.  I interrupted her to the point to where she would not engage with me anymore regarding the story she was telling me.  It just wasn't worth it to her.  Instead of giving her the decency of finishing her story, she just said, "no, I'm done.  I don't have anything to say."  And then, I read a motivational email that said to be grateful when our flaws are brought to the surface so it can show us what we still have yet to improve on...yippee?  Oh, how far I have to go in this process of being an upright, conciencous, selfless human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I have been swamped with school lately.  I go online, so it should not be that difficult.  But, I find it hard to time crunch and fit everything in.  I am finished with my cultural perspectives class. And now I am on to Social Psychology which is a bit more easy for my brain to digest.  In essence, I am studying about "myself".  I think so much of myself as it is, so this class shouldn't be too difficult!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I got to watch a little bit of the Olympics this weekend, and enjoyed seeing some of the events that will make the history books, including the 41 year old mom, that I think should inspire us all regarding what we are capable of doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6015225307886732501?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6015225307886732501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6015225307886732501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6015225307886732501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6015225307886732501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/08/sick-o.html' title='sick-o'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-299356596801996881</id><published>2008-08-03T08:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T08:35:55.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just a few things on my mind...</title><content type='html'>wow.  I have not written in over a month.  I cannot believe I did not write at all in July.  I cannot believe I am wrapping up on a political perspectives class, and am actually, for the most part, doing well in it.  Well, let's back up...I have a paper that's due tomorrow, that is worth about a 1/5 of the class grade, and I haven't even started on it.  Well, I started the introduction, and my thesis...I am about to go work at Starbucks, and then...come home, lock myself into my room...and write, write, write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, it's all in my head.  It sounds brilliant in my head. Most things do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I facebooked that all I wanted was some eudiamonia.  That's one of those words that I forget what it means as soon as I read the definition in the dictionary...But, it is definitely one of those things that I desire.  If you go on www.eudiamonia.com you will find two definitions for it. I am in love with the word because it speaks of what I am after.  I want to live day after day with a real sense of accomplishment and vision.  I want to be able to look at myself five years down the road, and "shake hands with that person" and go, wow, I am excited about where I am going.  Right now, I cannot see anything 5 days in front of me, much less than five years.  And I wake up thinking am I just living a fake life, and wondering if I am going to be found out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something that I am not is apathetic about work.  I enjoy work, even the "two jobs" as frustrating as it can be sometimes...I am grateful for what these jobs have afforded me.  I have been able to pay off my car along with other debt.  What is up with some of those in my generation, and the generation after me that just sees fit to complain about their job, and just incessantly complain about how much they hate work, and hate their job?  Now, I must remember that with my "positivity" theme, I don't actually do well with negativity.  So, that is one aspect of why that gets under my skin so...but the other part.  I just don't know why it is so easy to complain.  I am not talking about the types of jobs where there are problems, and one discusses such and hopes to solve or diminish the problems and venting along the way.  I mean the type of complaining with no resolution in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the whole generation doing this? I think we all could use some edemame, er, eudiamonia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-299356596801996881?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/299356596801996881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=299356596801996881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/299356596801996881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/299356596801996881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-few-things-on-my-mind.html' title='just a few things on my mind...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5315861641788400118</id><published>2008-06-29T23:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T23:49:31.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>definitely, maybe, definitely</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching the movie Definitely, Maybe this weekend.  It was okay, for a romantic comedy, I guess.  I didn't have so much a problem with the plot as much as I had a problem with the part at the end.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movies like this get me every time...I get pulled in emotionally, and I hate it.  Towards the end of the movie, the dad says to the daughter, "You're the happy ending."  Why does that get to me so?  Because it opens up the old wound of not knowing, meeting, having a relationship with my dad.  It's not that I don't have a good relationship with him.  It's that the relationship is non-existent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I have had a really great time this weekend with my roomates.  And I want the weekend to last longer.  I am glad that Friday is July 4th.  Woohoo!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting sleepy, so this can of worms post that I have just opened up, is going to have to close...maybe more next time....definitely...good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5315861641788400118?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5315861641788400118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5315861641788400118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5315861641788400118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5315861641788400118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/06/definitely-maybe-definitely.html' title='definitely, maybe, definitely'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6202085428338611029</id><published>2008-06-24T01:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T01:37:29.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>confidence is a tricky thing...</title><content type='html'>some days I am brilliant.  some days I am controversial.  some days I am just make a fool of myself.  I think that my confidence is swayed by my feelings, as if they are a compass...I feel this about myself today so therefore I am confident.  When I am unsure of myself in a certain area, I waver in being confident.  Sometimes, I've been known to lose all confidence in myself over something small...seemingly small...that didn't seem so small to me.  It happens to me more than I care to admit.  It happens no matter how many times I try to quote a scripture about putting my confidence in Christ.  I think that when I know I didn't do my all, everything I could, that is when I lack the confidence.  However, sometimes, the confidence is not there even though I know what I am doing...I am hoping that this is just a phase of early adulthood.  I hope that as I age, my confidence is more steady, less of a reed in the wind.  But, what am I to do about it now?  until then?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6202085428338611029?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6202085428338611029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6202085428338611029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6202085428338611029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6202085428338611029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/06/confidence-is-tricky-thing.html' title='confidence is a tricky thing...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5508170989916345857</id><published>2008-06-21T12:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T12:34:52.651-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody has a story...</title><content type='html'>Everybody has a story:&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I admit that my postings have been scarce as of late.  I have lots ‘o’ reasons for this, and now will have a surplus…this is part of the rambling part of my post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking  this week about stories, individual’s stories, and how just by looking at a person, one might be surprised at his or her story.  I found myself in that situation last night.  I was working the drive-thru at Starbux last night and one of our regular customers came through and ordered some drinks for the whole family.  Because I am a bit of a chatterbox anyway, I was just making small talk, and then casually made a statement that opened up this whole avenue of conversation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From looking at a person, I think we as humans tend to look at an individual, and we think we “know” that person.  We think that we have them “figured out”.  Because of the location I work, I see many people come through that have money, success, fame…and they look the part of soccer moms, musicians, business professionals.  Now, I think that I can have my own bias regarding those classes of people.  But, last night all of those biases were swept aside, and I just talked to this person like they’ve been a friend for ages…And I found out a portion of their story, or testimony, which is the word they kept using.  What a story it was.  It was filled with themes of love, redemption, and surprises.  It was definitely a bit of a Hallmark vibe.  And because of this new piece of the puzzle, I now have this new admiration for the adversity this person has had to face.  I can no longer fit this person into the usual biases that I fit the customers in….And it reminds me that these biases/boxes/etc. that I use are ineffective and useless anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday I hope to have mastered this way of thinking and have it laid to rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5508170989916345857?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5508170989916345857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5508170989916345857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5508170989916345857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5508170989916345857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/06/everybody-has-story.html' title='Everybody has a story...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-656567059776000250</id><published>2008-06-21T12:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T12:29:24.455-05:00</updated><title type='text'>list of 14 things on 43things.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="goalentry"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, this is one of my goals on my list.  Some of them are mildly entertaining.  Some of them are a far away thought.  But this one, this one inhabits all sorts of ideas, memories, past mistakes, indecisiveness, and just plain regret.  Because I have not finished something completely, I am hesitant to write about it.  But, I guess I can look at it from a “progress” perspective.  &lt;br /&gt;This summer I started this goal.  I started a class at a local community college.  I started looking into things like credits, costs, and timing of the classes I needed.  What I found was that I needed three credits, essentially one class.  Just one.  Only one.  I was stunned.  I started to wonder why I had went to school, and quit with only one class to go.  But, I stopped that mode of thinking, as I know that kind of thinking profits me nothing.  So, I planned my schedule, and took the nights off from my part-time job at Starbux, and forked over the money for the class and textbook.  And now I am four weeks into the class, that is only five weeks long.  &lt;br /&gt;So, that’s a good explanation of where I’ve been.  Stuck in a class 3 nights a week.&lt;br /&gt;Now, because I don’t do anything lightly, I decided to finish my Bachelor’s degree online…and decided to start that the same time I was finishing up the other.  I now affectionately call my room the dungeon.  I feel like I have been glued to my bed doing some sort of homework for the last 4 weeks.  But, honestly, I can’t imagine my life any different right now.  I am finally getting something on this list scratched off, and taking a big chunk out of the “regrets” in my life. &lt;br /&gt;So, right now, even though things are still a bit rough and difficult, I am doing oh so well…I am happy, feeling fulfilled, and enjoying the course of my life thus far.  &lt;br /&gt;This is a very different feeling than what I felt a year ago…more on that later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="goalprogresslink"&gt;See more progress on: &lt;a href="http://www.43things.com/people/progress/valerielee28?on=9476334"&gt;go back to school&lt;/a&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/4114002205986938705-656567059776000250?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/656567059776000250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=656567059776000250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/656567059776000250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/656567059776000250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/06/list-of-14-things-on-43thingscom.html' title='list of 14 things on 43things.com'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4467498553298487214</id><published>2008-05-20T15:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T15:30:33.461-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work emotion math'/><title type='text'>sometimes I get it right...</title><content type='html'>At work lately, I have not been doing so well...missing deadlines, poor customer service, and just bad miscalculations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today, I am giving myself a pat on the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered something that needed renewal for our company to keep up and running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year at this time, the renewal expired with no one knowing.  This in turn caused our site to be completely down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, because of better communication we discussed the expiration coming up soon...And today,  I followed up on what to do about the renewal....All it will take is a simple email requesting approval, and we're good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, sometimes I get it right, and actually deliver results, good "pat on the back" results.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4467498553298487214?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4467498553298487214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4467498553298487214' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4467498553298487214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4467498553298487214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/sometimes-i-get-it-right.html' title='sometimes I get it right...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6439244198771069252</id><published>2008-05-17T22:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T22:42:23.071-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a good day</title><content type='html'>today was a good day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my issues -- there are so many -- came to the surface last night after a friend's text message. texting. it's so easy to just write a simple few lines. but, the problem is the lack of real communication.  that is when you have to actually talk.  and that's what I did today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were simply texting back and forth, and this person made a joke, that just simply went too far, well, too far for me.  I overreacted, and simply had a moment.  I slept on it, and then was able to deal with it today.  Thinking about the best way to let someone know that they hurt my feelings, and then actually telling them...that's progress for me.  Usually, I just mope, and react, and then just go inward.  I usually somehow turn it around, and simply wonder what it was that I did.  Not this time.  I knew that my initial reaction was one of self-defense.  But, I was able to move past that, and think about what I could do to move past the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, the person who "hurt my feelings" apologized, and then we were able to talk it out.  Now, I know for some that this is just simple and common-sense type of stuff.  I am not one of those people who can just simply communicate my feelings, opinions, etc.  I have a "people pleasing filter" and co-dependant slant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, here's to progress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and did I mention that I also finished watching the last two episodes of LOST?  Is anybody else as confused as I am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;c-r-a-z-y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oh, and did I mention that I had a good day?  I hope I am able to have more really soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6439244198771069252?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6439244198771069252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6439244198771069252' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6439244198771069252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6439244198771069252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/good-day.html' title='a good day'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-8841001660131753284</id><published>2008-05-11T21:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T21:53:00.659-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fantasy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>reality vs. illusion</title><content type='html'>This weekend, my roommate's family was in town to celebrate her sister's graduation.  By family I mean, parents, grandparents, and siblings.  Did I mention that they were all in the house at one time? I was drugged up the entire weekend.  I don't mean "smack" or "mary jane" or any other slang for illegal substances.  I mean the intoxication of family.  For me, getting to eavesdrop on another family makes me high....in a "manic" sort of way, with no lithium to sort it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, however, I broke away from this experience to travel to my own hometown to visit my mom and my grandparents.  Sometimes, when I come home I feel like a stranger.  I truly am a stranger.  I don't know them, and they don't really know me.  This is the reality.  I love them dearly, and am proud to have been born in such a hard-working family.  In truth, there's so much about my family I don't know.  There's so much that is a mystery.  It eludes me how to get that back, how to bridge the distance of not knowing to knowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my roomate's family is leaving, and I think my hangover is starting.  But, just like a recent Grey's Anatomy episode I watched, I must choose to live in the reality of the situation, and not fantasize about this family, one that I don't even know better than my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reality is that I think the grass is greener.  But, I know deep down that it's not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family, for all its differences and mishaps and misgivings, is a pretty solid group of people...I have learned great things from them, even if it's been from mistakes.  They've stood by me during my crazy "holy-roller" days, and even thus far, with my divorce.  They don't give up on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not giving up the hope of knowing them...my family, that is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-8841001660131753284?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/8841001660131753284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=8841001660131753284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8841001660131753284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8841001660131753284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/reality-vs-illusion.html' title='reality vs. illusion'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5049838845506586228</id><published>2008-05-07T15:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T15:43:06.841-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>parties</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday I went to  my first and last college party.  I am not in college(in a normal sort of  way, anyway), nor would I ever formally be invited to something like that.   we were there dropping off someone who lives there.  There was  a boy there who I had a crush on, in which the fruition of this has now  become a personal mission, not a mission in pursuing him, but a mission to help  him in whom he is pursuing!  He is crushing on a co-worker of mine, and I  hope to make it my personal mission to get them together.  it feels  good.  it feels good to help others in their love life.  I do not want  a love life of my own right now.  That is not a language I currently want  to be speaking right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Last night, before  the random college party visit,  I was able to go to &lt;a href="http://www.katieherzig.com"&gt;this chic's&lt;/a&gt; cd release  party. I had such a fun time hanging out with friends.  I sometimes  found it hard to sit still because I enjoy dancing in my seat so much.  I  pretty much enjoy dancing any chance I get.  I have that annoying habit of  dancing around whenever I might here music...in the grocery store, in line at  the post office.  My mom, would always nudge me and tell me to stand  still.  Five minutes later, I'd be at it again.  I guess some things  never change...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5049838845506586228?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5049838845506586228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5049838845506586228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5049838845506586228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5049838845506586228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/parties.html' title='parties'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2073802254800917258</id><published>2008-05-05T23:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T00:08:37.207-05:00</updated><title type='text'>feels like home</title><content type='html'>right now I am currently typing in my room while my roomates are asleep upstairs.  can I tell you that I've never had roomates?  when I was in YWAM, I shared a room with others, but that felt more like a dorm...not necessarily a roomate situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been thinking lately about the course of my life over the last year. it has been just over a year since my ex-husband stopped working.  I think this time last year was when I started to break down.  it was about july last year when I started wondering where we were going to live.  I was panicking that the two options would be to be homeless, or move back to his parents small living quarters.  he did have to move back home, but I think this option was good for him as he will have loved ones who can love him unconditionally, and take care of him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like I am finally at peace about where I am living.  I rent, and don't own a home of my own.  But the house I rent is beautiful, and I love the people that I share this home with.  It is warm, inviting, and safe and quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for someone that prides herself on such little belongings, I recently bought a bed and sheets, pillows, and the like.  Some would say, well of course you need to spend money on that.  But this cheap gal agonized over every buying decision.  But after all the agonizing is over, I have a great little piece of furniture to sleep peacefully at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it does feel like home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2073802254800917258?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2073802254800917258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2073802254800917258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2073802254800917258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2073802254800917258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/feels-like-home.html' title='feels like home'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-9013024859188087698</id><published>2008-05-05T10:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T10:45:10.820-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>back and forth</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today I keep going back and forth between two extremes--hope and apathy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am sorrowful for a friend of mine who is having to say goodbye to a faithful pet, and having to say goodbye to an unfaithful love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am overjoyed for friend of mine who is having a whirlwind of a romance, possibly debating if this person is ‘the one’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am admiring another friend of mine who is having to make a bold move and walk away from a relationship prospect, a promising one at that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And as I remember my own experiences with love lost this past year or so, I still find myself hopeful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How can that be, I ask.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And then, I crush the hopefulness in my hand, and reach out for the cynicism that proves to be a welcome guest in my home these days.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I cannot trust hope.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I cannot trust myself with hope.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is this &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/troyakersmusic"&gt;guy&lt;/a&gt; who plays songs on a keyboard making a statement of risking a chance at something, a love so thick, so real, so passionate you can taste it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At this point in my life, the risk is not worth it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are people all over the globe who are making the choice-saying yes, walking away, and deciding if the risk is worth taking.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am not sure if the risk will ever again be worth taking for me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To let someone in so close that you can literally taste the experience is too dangerous. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I will continue to push down the hope so far down that it is unrecognizable to me. I am sure some psychologist somewhere would call this self-preservation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I cannot disagree.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is all a part of my survival.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am good at surviving.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, don’t get me wrong…I still know how to be hopeful for those around me, and will continue to do so,.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is safe for me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is real.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is what I can take.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/troyakersmusic"&gt;somethin’&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-9013024859188087698?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/9013024859188087698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=9013024859188087698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9013024859188087698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9013024859188087698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/back-and-forth.html' title='back and forth'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7247097753894983137</id><published>2008-05-01T01:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T01:39:41.116-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beauty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>just wanted to say...</title><content type='html'>that I think &lt;a href="http://www.brookewaggonermusic.com"&gt;this chic&lt;/a&gt; is amazing. thanks brooke for sharing at a crowded coffeehouse with a captive audience. beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7247097753894983137?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7247097753894983137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7247097753894983137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7247097753894983137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7247097753894983137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/just-wanted-to-say.html' title='just wanted to say...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-3262823959628791772</id><published>2008-05-01T01:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T01:27:18.442-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not very pretty...but I get by</title><content type='html'>someone thinks I should blog a bit more...well, here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's see what comes out of this brain at one in the morn'.  I was thinking so much today about being pretty, being beautiful, and yes, even sexy...quite frankly i think those three adjectives are not quite as similar as one might find them to be in a thesaurus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my state of mind has contained each three at various times.  and even all three were today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when going out to lunch with my office mates, I thought I was pretty...not beautiful, but pretty.  pretty and confident in a dorky sort of way.  I am never confident in that businessy ceo chic way.  I am simply me....funny, silly, quirky...oh, so quirky oh, and don't forget absent-minded...and all the while feeling pretty while chatting it up about boys and the like...not feeling pretty cuz we're talking about boys, but because we feel pretty, we talk about boys(and other things, too!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there's beautiful....listening to people play music, sing their songs, and getting caught up in the moment, in the joy of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; moment. that makes me feel beautiful. like listening to them makes me beautiful; strange concept I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;side note: &lt;/span&gt;tonight, while watching american idol, natasha bedingfield was singing. she is beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lastly, feeling sexy was a very minute part of my day, but definitely happened to occur.  compliments from an entire table of people definitely can give a gal a boost.   red lipstick doesn't hurt either;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in reflecting my mood regarding my own appeal...I realize that I feel based on my experiences around me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I want to really feel beautiful all the time.  that's my niche. not because I think I am, but because I feel that way not based on my looks, but my connection and appreciation with my surroundings.  it is the state of mind I like best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe the next time someone tries to tell me I am attractive, I will listen. we'll see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-3262823959628791772?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/3262823959628791772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=3262823959628791772' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3262823959628791772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3262823959628791772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/05/not-very-prettybut-i-get-by.html' title='not very pretty...but I get by'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5262985758296114037</id><published>2008-04-28T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T22:32:34.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ache</title><content type='html'>...I have not written in a long time. I don't really know what to say anymore...I wrote this awhile ago, and didn't even know if I should publish it. I'm pu.blishing it now so I have it. It's still a tip of the iceburg of what I was feeling at the time...and even now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have not written in such a shile, and honestly, I am not sure if I can even write what I am feeling now. Currently, I am lying on my bed trying to recover from the sinus infection that is kicking me to the curb. I did not go to work today. I have some sick days left, so I am taking advantage of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not surprised at all that I am sick. I have been grieving over the loss of my mother just one day less than a month ago. I don't really know how to grieve over something I wasn't even expecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I just want to hide. from every responsibility I have. I am grateful that I do not have children, as that would prove difficult in trying to take care of them, when I am having a hard enough time taking care of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;f-e-a-r grips me and its clutch is choking my dreams. I have been thinking of pursuing work closer to what I want to do for a living. However, a degree is expected, and I am not courageous enough. I want to hide in my work, not really exist. I am afraid to keep moving in school. I don't have a strong grasp on what it is specifically I want to do. And with the economy like it is, I am not sure I will even be able to find work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am scared to keep moving. I just want to stand still. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5262985758296114037?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5262985758296114037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5262985758296114037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5262985758296114037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5262985758296114037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/11/ache.html' title='ache'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1863703909434396546</id><published>2008-04-12T20:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T21:16:13.891-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my very own</title><content type='html'>I am currently watching a movie about growing up in a small town.  It happens to be a small town near where I grew up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The characters want so desperately to get out of the "one horse town" that they are from.  It's quite a bit corny, but it parallels to dreams that my friends and I shared in high school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a life, a life of one's own...that can have meaning and purpose, it seems like that is all I could hink about at eighteen.  And to have meaning and purpose, getting out of a small town was imperative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My immediate family always asks why don't I move back to the town where I was raised.  It's not that I don't want to, it's just that....I don't want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two things that I wonder while I am watching this movie.  When a person lives and dies in the same town, does that person have automatic access to community?  Community seems to be new word to celebrate.  People move to parts of the city to create a community, to build community. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to have a life of one's own usually means leaving the place one was born.  Doesn't that make it hard to connect with others, and live in community?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just wondering....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1863703909434396546?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1863703909434396546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1863703909434396546' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1863703909434396546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1863703909434396546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-very-own.html' title='my very own'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7351933619469931663</id><published>2008-04-11T12:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T10:34:56.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>words</title><content type='html'>okay, so yesterday I was having a conversation about how important words are to me...and someone commented that they could see that from my writing on this blog...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I guess I just don't think about it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Yesterday was my friend's birthday, and we celebrated the evening by starting the evening eating dinner at a local restaurant downtown.  It was just outside, so one could feel a steady breeze from the wind.  And the temperature seemed to me to be absolutely perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I wanted to savor the entire night.  Good conversations, good food, and good wine.  This sums up a perfect evening for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It really doesn't take much to make me smile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   And here's a list of other noteworthy things of beauty....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The apple red tulips that are blooming outside our office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The green grass that is soaked by the recent rain.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   My new phone...yes, it is a beautiful thing to me! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The place where I currently live, warm and inviting.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   Living in a country in which I can have the freedom to do so many things on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;   --one of those being worship the way I choose without the fear of imprisonment, or death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7351933619469931663?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7351933619469931663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7351933619469931663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7351933619469931663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7351933619469931663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/04/words.html' title='words'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-9034004789340976683</id><published>2008-04-01T00:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T01:16:09.109-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mind over matter</title><content type='html'>sometimes my body gives out on me...at the worst time...why can't I just trick my body into behaving the way I want it to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-9034004789340976683?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/9034004789340976683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=9034004789340976683' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9034004789340976683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9034004789340976683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/04/mind-over-matter.html' title='mind over matter'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6844196172090587196</id><published>2008-03-18T12:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T12:53:55.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>chicken</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="goalentry"&gt;&lt;p&gt;yesterday marked the anniversary of me meeting my dad for the first and last time. one and only one time. why am i still chasing after that meeting, so desperately wanting to know as an adult if i was really wanted or if i was simply a bother that day…&lt;br /&gt;i spoke with my mom yesterday but i was too fearful to bring up the conversation, difficult and painful…so i did what any cowardiced individual might do…i chickened out…&lt;br /&gt;friday i meet up with her and she will be taking me out to lunch. maybe then i can bring it up. we’re both adults right, i can have an calm, stable conversation with my mother right?&lt;br /&gt;we’ll see….&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="goalprogresslink"&gt;See more progress on: &lt;a href="http://www.43things.com/people/progress/valerielee28?on=9486925"&gt;Reunite with my Father&lt;/a&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/4114002205986938705-6844196172090587196?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6844196172090587196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6844196172090587196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6844196172090587196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6844196172090587196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/03/chicken.html' title='chicken'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2945907969992308882</id><published>2008-03-17T10:46:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T10:08:57.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wanted</title><content type='html'>Today I want so many things....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be over this divorce...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have finished my taxes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have traded in my car already, the one I have to make payments on, the one that is guzzling gas, the one that has scratches on it which decreases its value. I want to trade it in for a junker, hopefully that will go a hundred thousand miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want so many things on this day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2945907969992308882?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2945907969992308882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2945907969992308882' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2945907969992308882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2945907969992308882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/03/wanted.html' title='wanted'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1945333055591082873</id><published>2008-03-10T10:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T10:33:49.835-05:00</updated><title type='text'>acceptance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="goalentry"&gt;&lt;p&gt;This weekend I received an acceptance of application in the mail from Columbia State.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, I am accepted.  Now it is up to me to do the work.  I have only one class to finish to be able to receive just an Associate&amp;#8217;s Degree.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How simple it sounds, and yet it has taken so much for me to get to this point.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Life is not simple.  This simple task is not simple in my world.  But, hopefully I can continue on&amp;#8230;not quitting, not giving up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We&amp;#8217;ll see&amp;#8230;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="goalprogresslink"&gt;See more progress on: &lt;a href="http://www.43things.com/people/progress/valerielee28?on=9476334"&gt;go back to school&lt;/a&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/4114002205986938705-1945333055591082873?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1945333055591082873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1945333055591082873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1945333055591082873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1945333055591082873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/03/acceptance.html' title='acceptance'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7891004562436245179</id><published>2008-02-02T19:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T19:58:57.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>roots and berries</title><content type='html'>did you know that rasberries aren't really berries? they are "aggregate fruits"...because they actually are a cluster of fruits...you know what could be considered a berry by definition? bananas, yep, and tomatoes, too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that confuses me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;much like my feelings here lately...they confuse me, almost betray me.  you see I am a person who likes to deal with something and then move on...well, at least that is the idea I have of how it is supposed to work...one of my "strengths" is restorative...I like things to be as they were, or better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be as i once was...or better yet, more than i once was...more mature, more responsible, stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week i had emotions that i tried to prepare for.  you see, i am a woman.  i expect to have crazy, irrational thoughts at least on certain days of the year.  i have even allowed myself to have a "cry" day...at least that's what i call it.  on that day, i could be like Hurley on Lost and win the lottery, yet i feel like someone just shot my dog...it's just not rational, it just doesn't make sense...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hormones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this week, i was not prepared for the emotions that came like a torrential downpour. unrelenting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tell myself i want to get to the root of the problem, but there is a part of me that knows to get to the root, i must deal with my divorce...the divorce that was finalized on tuesday...the divorce that i filed for...the divorce that is considered sin among some religious circles...i want to be "restored" from it. now. not tomorrow. not next year....NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, i am smart enough to know that healing doesn't happen overnight.  it's a slow process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am ready for it to begin...to quote a line from a recently viewed episode of Grey's Anatomy..."I am letting go.  I need to let go."  I want to continue to shed and let go and peel the pieces of me that no longer belong, they weigh me down--whatever it takes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7891004562436245179?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7891004562436245179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7891004562436245179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7891004562436245179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7891004562436245179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/02/roots-and-berries.html' title='roots and berries'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2579901653620857802</id><published>2008-01-27T23:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T23:40:01.408-06:00</updated><title type='text'>in love</title><content type='html'>i was in love once. i was in love with someone i later decided to marry.  at least i believed i was in love.  and as of tuesday morning, i am no longer married to this  person.  i am no longer  'in love' with this person, either.  the truth is, i actually don't really think of him much at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i am in love with the feeling of being in love.  i love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's to being in love...with life...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2579901653620857802?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2579901653620857802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2579901653620857802' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2579901653620857802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2579901653620857802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-love.html' title='in love'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-3059253361965861143</id><published>2008-01-21T11:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T11:12:57.852-06:00</updated><title type='text'>happy birthday mom!</title><content type='html'>just wanted to send you a thank you for who you are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes I don't appreciate all that you've been in my life. and let's face it, there were times when you weren't there at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but you made a decision to have another child when you could have just "roevwade"'d me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you are here for me now when I am going through the most difficult decision of my life thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are a woman full of mystery, and who knows what it means to sacrifice.  you have experienced heartache, and have climbed mountains some never even try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-3059253361965861143?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/3059253361965861143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=3059253361965861143' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3059253361965861143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3059253361965861143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-birthday-mom.html' title='happy birthday mom!'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2213214126942421087</id><published>2008-01-19T22:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T22:35:56.668-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm there for you</title><content type='html'>when i say those words to someone, do I really mean it?  i have experienced it...people being there for me when it really mattered. one of my favorite scenes of the movie "i am sam" is when michelle pfeiffer's(sp?) character tells someone that she's "here, i'm right here" when in actuality, she's somewhere else...she's not really there, present, willing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when god says...I am with you always...i don't have a real grasp, understanding, assurance...it's hard to just have "faith" that is the case...sometimes i have the faith...but sometimes i doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then i think that is when he shows up through people...i have a friend who offered me her job position. she is moving on to something else closer to home. and she called me. this friend who was in my wedding, who was there for me when i had my first car wreck, who was there for me when i told her i was going to some 'cult sounding commune' in adams, tn called youth with a mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even though i told her one time that i liked her crush(we were sixteen), even though i said mean things to her,  even though i decided i was too good to be a part of her wedding....i say these things not to demean myself, but to contrast.  i know that some of them were out of immaturity, and a part of growing up.  i have reconciled these things in my heart, and with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this friend called me offering me to come in for an interview...the manager was ready to talk with me...if hired i'd be taking her commission checks that she had earned, but wouldn't reap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's there for me.  and she'd be there more if i wanted her to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that i can grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2213214126942421087?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2213214126942421087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2213214126942421087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2213214126942421087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2213214126942421087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-there-for-you.html' title='I&apos;m there for you'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5569741798809370608</id><published>2008-01-19T21:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T21:58:18.593-06:00</updated><title type='text'>father, daddy, papa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="goalentry"&gt;&lt;p&gt;so many names for one individual who is shrouded in mystery. not abba, father of jesus&amp;#8230;my very own flesh &amp;#38; blood, biological one&amp;#8230;I lost contact with him so long ago.  at an early age, one where you say yes ma&amp;#8217;am and no sir and just do as your told&amp;#8230;that sort of age, before the rebellion kicks in. i had so many questions back then, questions that I&amp;#8217;d still like answered. so the wondering i am doing now is the question of is it even worth going down the rabbit hole&amp;#8230;maybe i am too old to go chasing&amp;#8230;.it is amazing to me how me, i myself can be so complicated. i just spent an entire day watching season 3 of &lt;span class="caps"&gt;LOST&lt;/span&gt;, and doing absolutely nothing.  but, yet, checking my email, linking to 43things.com and it brings me to a world of finding answers, and a dream i so desperately want&amp;#8212;reuniting with my father&amp;#8230;that&amp;#8217;s on my list&amp;#8230;my little &amp;#8220;life list&amp;#8221; if you will&amp;#8230;some things on this list are quite silly, and some cut through the surface layers of who i am&amp;#8230;deep. i am wondering if our physical body mimics our soul/spirit, whatever one calls the other complex part of us&amp;#8230;the one that cannot be seen with the eyes&amp;#8230;our skin has layers upon layers&amp;#8230;and so does the will, heart, and emotion of a man&amp;#8230;&amp;#8221;a man&amp;#8217;s heart is like deep waters&amp;#8221;...isn&amp;#8217;t that how the proverb begins&amp;#8230;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;do I want to go into the water, or am i afraid of drowning. you see, i never learned how to swim&amp;#8230;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="goalprogresslink"&gt;See more progress on: &lt;a href="http://www.43things.com/people/progress/valerielee28?on=9486925"&gt;Reunite with my Father&lt;/a&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/4114002205986938705-5569741798809370608?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5569741798809370608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5569741798809370608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5569741798809370608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5569741798809370608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/father-daddy-papa.html' title='father, daddy, papa'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2291272014395699175</id><published>2008-01-17T12:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T13:05:05.224-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='words'/><title type='text'>asking for it...</title><content type='html'>last week at work I asked someone to "get under my skin", "get on my nerves", whatever idiom you might want to use...basically just be plain mean and just say mean things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the plan/experiment was to see how much I could take...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, last night was the limit.  I don't have an exoskeleton for verbal jabbing....also, I am not creative enough to fight back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i am soaking up the words.  like a permeation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;digesting them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;believing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and today, my heart feels like the weather, cold and dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i allow words to have too much power in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at least the wrong ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;words like these: redemption-- hope-- gratefulness-- beauty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2291272014395699175?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2291272014395699175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2291272014395699175' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2291272014395699175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2291272014395699175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/asking-for-it.html' title='asking for it...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6351882601724070607</id><published>2008-01-15T11:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T11:47:55.849-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work emotion math'/><title type='text'>one plus one is two?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;yesterday I made a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mathematical&lt;/span&gt; error... I divided a number from another number. the wrong number.  simple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mathematical&lt;/span&gt; error. one that my boss was depending on.  that "number" went into board room meetings, carrying with it hope, and expectation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once the error was found, hope was deferred...and made my heart sink, at least, if not everyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, I was given the opportunity to correct the number, correct the mistake, and still am working on correcting my mindset regarding the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know it is not the end of the world.  i like to think that i am dependable and reliable.  once i realized the weight of my error, i began to question my ability in myself, in my ability to do my job, and do it well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was late for work today.  i wanted to disappear from my problems.  i wanted to be far away from any responsibility, anything that resembles reality.  this kind of thing helps me understand why people mask their pain with alcohol  or drugs.  i get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here i am at work facing the reality that i am mediocre at my job at best, and that i will never have what it takes to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ceo&lt;/span&gt; or executive....did i mention that this mathematical error falls on the heels of another event last week, last friday to be exact?  i was caught sleeping on the job by said boss, in which there's an incriminating video floating around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah...definitely not a record month for me so far...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6351882601724070607?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6351882601724070607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6351882601724070607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6351882601724070607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6351882601724070607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/one-plus-one-is-two.html' title='one plus one is two?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-164168133628633754</id><published>2008-01-01T15:03:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T15:03:25.619-06:00</updated><title type='text'>going back to school</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="goalentry"&gt;&lt;p&gt;okay, so I am finally making a decision&amp;#8230;.little miss indecisive me!  I am going back to school&amp;#8230;I haven&amp;#8217;t processed all of the details, but I am definitely going back.  I am going to major in sociology&amp;#8230;or something in social sciences.  I think it suits me, being how nosy I am and all&amp;#8230;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, there we go!  I said it!  That is the first step right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have done nothing but think of this the entire day&amp;#8230;hmmm&amp;#8230;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="goalprogresslink"&gt;See more progress on: &lt;a href="http://www.43things.com/people/progress/valerielee28?on=9476334"&gt;go back to school&lt;/a&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/4114002205986938705-164168133628633754?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/164168133628633754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=164168133628633754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/164168133628633754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/164168133628633754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2008/01/going-back-to-school.html' title='going back to school'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7237501728574164942</id><published>2007-12-20T21:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T22:08:36.501-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You read what?</title><content type='html'>I read&lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/200801/omag_200801_landing.jhtml"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/200801/omag_200801_landing.jhtml"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually enjoy reading this magazine in my spare time.  And because I have been in a sleep daze for the past day and 1/2...I bought January's issue going home after work.  I tell myself to wait to read it at the library, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; it's free!  But, do I ever actually get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;around&lt;/span&gt; to reading it? no...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, because the front cover mentioned "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hidden causes of fatigue"&lt;/span&gt; I thought I might find why I have been exhausted lately, needing sleep like oxygen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I found instead was hopefully a little bit of character coming off the pages, speaking to my heart, making me want to exhibit that same sort of character...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thoroughly enjoyed reading Oprah interview &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Denzel&lt;/span&gt;, and him explaining what passage of John he's reading now...This guy's love is his family...I've always admired him, and loved his movies, or whatever...but to hear him talk about his children and his beliefs made me appreciate him for the kind of life he lives day-to-day, off screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, after I'd read, sometimes skimmed the pages, on the last page, I find Oprah Winfrey opening up about her "&lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/200801/omag_200801_mission.jhtml"&gt;South Africa Heartache&lt;/a&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was moved to tears reading about a demise of character in her school.  What struck me was not just the tragedy of what had happened...the abuse of the girls.  What struck me was her action, her determination, her candor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw myself in this situation, and sadly my first reaction would be thinking that I had failed...failed the girls....failed at something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I thanked her for sharing a lesson that I am not sure she initially intended.  I thanked her for sharing her decisions...She didn't stop to think of the failure, as much as she grieved the situation...She concentrated on "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what do do next".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes pride myself on my "survival" mode of thinking.  However, I think that far too often, I stop myself from doing the next thing, and freeze in my "failure thinking".  This sounds a bit "new age" I know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, if that's the circle I have to pop into temporarily, then so be it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to make it a goal of this coming year -- 2008 -- to think "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what to do next"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want this to be some sort of motivational &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mumbo&lt;/span&gt; jumbo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want this to be concrete in my life...the "re-framing" how I see things...not seeing events as failure that freezes me into inaction.  But, a way of seeing those events so that it propels me to action, propels me to ask the right questions, propels me to see things in the correct light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is my first "new year's resolution"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7237501728574164942?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/200801/omag_200801_mission.jhtml' title='You read what?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7237501728574164942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7237501728574164942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7237501728574164942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7237501728574164942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-read-what.html' title='You read what?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4874950708931935217</id><published>2007-12-19T23:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T23:58:55.516-06:00</updated><title type='text'>going shopping</title><content type='html'>I am looking for a particular color....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;several layers please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it on sale?  I am a bargain hunter!~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I looking for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--thicker skin please--&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4874950708931935217?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4874950708931935217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4874950708931935217' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4874950708931935217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4874950708931935217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/going-shopping.html' title='going shopping'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4818762204166837261</id><published>2007-12-17T00:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T00:29:13.971-06:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome to the club</title><content type='html'>i am about to be a divorcee(where's the line over the e on the keypad? I never know).  I think this is the first time I've blogged about this topic.  why? perhaps out of fear, perhaps I avoid topics that make me uncomfortable...like bathroom humor...gross...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I discussed my impending situation with someone who is new on this....journey?  journey of divorce.  I was able to "guide" them in the ways of filing...and in the ways of emotion.  I have experienced every emotion possible. I still am.  emotional. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so difficult for me to write about.  I am fine in having conversations...hell, what am I saying.  I don't even really enjoy discussing the process....I know it is sometimes necessary.   I only feel completely comfortable with discussing it with people who have or who are going through it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being empathetic, maybe I find it easy to "feel" what they are going through.  I think the deeper truth is that I want someone to empathize with what I am feeling...it's hard to understand something you've never experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love people, but sometimes I fear becoming a loner.  I need people in my life.  I know this, and even want this....sometimes, it's just easier to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am switching locations at the office job.  I am moving from the "mail room" which is assumed to be a lame place to be, to a corner cubicle with windows letting in the sunshine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One would assume that I would absolutely LOVE this new location, but I honestly am a little apprehensive, as I wonder if this will turn me into the person who just "hides" in her cubie...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm...I do have some wonderful co-workers who probably won't allow that to happen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4818762204166837261?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4818762204166837261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4818762204166837261' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4818762204166837261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4818762204166837261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/welcome-to-club.html' title='welcome to the club'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2122273419152860863</id><published>2007-12-16T17:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T18:02:41.127-06:00</updated><title type='text'>www.thistlefarms.org</title><content type='html'>I experienced a "home party" Thursday night from these ladies from Magdalene.  It was a beautiful story of redemption, and second chances.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These women come in off the street, and sometimes this place of recovery is often their last hope.  They are able to stay in this home for two years rent free, essentially free from all the responsibilities of the world.  They are then given love which they've never fully had.  They are given a chance to start their life all over again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share with everyone I know about this place.  The women learn life skills, like making bath &amp;amp; body products, and selling them.  They learn how to work with one another on a daily business.  Their products can be ordered online, or in certain stores across the U.S. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something clicked for me that night.  I want to be able to work/volunteer in an environment where people are given second chances everyday.  It's messy.  It's unpredictable. But perfection and predictability have never been the flow of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately wanted to volunteer here...then almost as immediate came the thought of "yeah, but are you gonna flake out of that?"  This is how I think, and sadly how I can be.  I am not "super hard on myself"...just doing a reality check...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I signed up for the volunteer newsletter...we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I really hope that anyone who reads this will seriously check this place out...&lt;br /&gt;Becca Stevens, the Episcopal priest who started this non-profit has her own story of redemption, and has definitely started something beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2122273419152860863?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.thistlefarms.org/' title='www.thistlefarms.org'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2122273419152860863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2122273419152860863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2122273419152860863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2122273419152860863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/wwwthistlefarmsorg.html' title='www.thistlefarms.org'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5837397604600270025</id><published>2007-12-07T00:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T00:38:17.685-06:00</updated><title type='text'>mind games</title><content type='html'>my mind is playing tricks on me...it's unsettled, and churning.  it is playing tricks on my emotions.  i can't figure out how to make it stop.  it is doing that thing that it does to me when i am directionless, clueless...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need vision. i need clarity. i need truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i watched the barbara walters interview in which she named j.k. rowling as the most fascinating person of the year. j.k. was going about her life, but had a one track mind of writing...it didn't matter what else was going on in her life. school, marriage, baby, divorce...she wanted to write. and on a train ride, harry potter came to life and j.k. became a published author.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to have a one track mind.  maybe i need to go on a nice train ride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5837397604600270025?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5837397604600270025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5837397604600270025' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5837397604600270025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5837397604600270025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/mind-games.html' title='mind games'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7336921933547095942</id><published>2007-12-05T00:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T00:25:10.889-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought bars were where you got picked up-all sleazy like</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I have this friend who went Chick-Fil-A and was waiting on a drink refill.  As they were waiting, they were discussing how cold it was and how crazy it was for people to still dress so lightly, to the point of still wearing skirts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;At which a middle-aged man, suited and professional kemptness, decided it was time to pipe in and ask these ladies where they worked....pardoning himself by saying he couldn't help but overhear the conversation, about wearing short skirts..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;"where do you ladies work in these short skirts?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;no joke, that's the honest truth..somebody really asked that in the middle of a family fast food establishment...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;This is why no one asks me these questions, on account of my foot in mouth disease, cuz I straight would have said a few inappropriate things...like "well, on Sundays, I am at Hooters, and then on Monday-Friday, you can catch me at that DeJa Vu place...yeah, I'm sure you know the one...I bet you visit it all the time... Funny you've never seen me there...well I'll be....maybe next time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;yep, it's late, and I need to go to bed......I am shameless, absolutely shameless!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7336921933547095942?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7336921933547095942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7336921933547095942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7336921933547095942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7336921933547095942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-thought-bars-where-you-got-picked-up.html' title='I thought bars were where you got picked up-all sleazy like'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5165799260466604703</id><published>2007-12-04T23:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T00:02:08.184-06:00</updated><title type='text'>one day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I will see the fruit of my labor....I am not sure how hard at both jobs that I really work...Usually it feels like when I put in a "kick ass" day at one, I slug it out at the other...I never quite feel a 100% at both...I love both jobs.  I love people, let's be honest.  The only time I don't like people is when one person tries to diminish another person(co-worker) to another person, probably in management level....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have "ratted" on a few souls in my life as well just to try to make myself seem better, or for the darts to be thrown in someone else's direction....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it just seems so petty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I will not be working 2 jobs.  One day, I will be doing a fantabulous job at one corporation, doin' my people skills thing(hopefully travelling)...and making college degree money....and hopefully by that time I will have actually went back to school and got that so-called degree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I will be able to fantasize about vacations to exotic places....like the coast of Florida! (smile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't mistake this as complaining...it's actually visioneering...I know full well what brought me to the 2 job dilemma, to the point I never hope to repeat it.  I am no stranger to hard work, I have not been brought up to be lazy.  And most days it's not bad at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just look forward to the day when I can breathe a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;selah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5165799260466604703?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5165799260466604703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5165799260466604703' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5165799260466604703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5165799260466604703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/one-day.html' title='one day'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6556730282838555064</id><published>2007-12-03T23:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T00:02:38.777-06:00</updated><title type='text'>'roids rage?</title><content type='html'>so, just in case i ever get a drug test, i will have to explain the traces of steroids in my system..I went to the doctor (med clinic actually) and got a steroid shot...y'know in the buttocks as Forrest Gump would say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's my second one this year...I think that this med clinic gives them like candy...although, I must admit, it made me feel much better later on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no wonder these athletes take'em...there is a sort of feeling of almost unlimited powerfulness...in case you're wondering, I didn't get all angry though...:0)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, all in all, it was a good thing I went.  I needed the meds....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sleep, here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6556730282838555064?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6556730282838555064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6556730282838555064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6556730282838555064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6556730282838555064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/roids-rage.html' title='&apos;roids rage?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1626709120064857099</id><published>2007-12-02T22:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T22:42:45.850-06:00</updated><title type='text'>breakdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i am sick...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the kind of sick that keeps me under the covers sleeping in...reading novels....dreaming some crazy dream, and then waking up realizing i just broke a fever....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it could be worse....I could have the flu...I think what I have is just some cold from the deep dark pits of hell...okay maybe not that bad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept till 12pm today, and then until 2pm....finally began stirring around 5pm or 6pm...waiting to see if someone will graciously trade shifts with me tomorrow night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this makes me think all sorts of things...it opens the wound of me asking for help, and needing someone so desperately.  I don't want to work tomorrow night.  I don't even think I can work tomorrow during the day.  But, unlike the job tomorrow night, I don't really have to ask....I have probably one of the best bosses in the world, who will let me take the time off I need. and some of the important things I should do for that job, I can do at home.  But the other one requires a live body, it doesn't matter if it's not me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and as I am waiting, I wonder why not the immediate "yes, I will work for you, and trade with you on another night's work".  When someone asks me, I usually say yes, or on the rare chance no...I don't make someone wait for hours until I make my decision.  why am i having to wait?  do they understand that I would do this for them?  and have? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's another part that is frustrating to me....I am flaky in a lot of things, but I will work for a person without question if I know how badly they need it...I am not flippantly asking here...I have a real need.  can't they just say yes, and not keep me hanging...or, even say no, but do it sooner than later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am ranting, and this is definitely a "wild hair" blog...but, I just don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what this does, what is really going on here...my fear is coming to fruition.  I fear that when I really need someone, they will not be there.  and that's why the waiting is affecting me so much more than it should...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silliness, I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1626709120064857099?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1626709120064857099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1626709120064857099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1626709120064857099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1626709120064857099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/12/breakdown.html' title='breakdown'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-3748539206707314580</id><published>2007-11-30T23:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T23:29:47.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'>just in case I ever forget...</title><content type='html'>remind me that life is meant to be shared with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remind me that my experiences are not just for me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remind me that the beauty I see in nature, someone else needs to witness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remind me that I am also here to share this truth with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remind me, just in case I try to go &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.intothewild.com/"&gt;into the wild.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-3748539206707314580?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/3748539206707314580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=3748539206707314580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3748539206707314580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3748539206707314580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/just-in-case-i-ever-forget.html' title='just in case I ever forget...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6605395179624182178</id><published>2007-11-30T22:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T23:19:04.955-06:00</updated><title type='text'>restoration</title><content type='html'>At my office, we took a "strengths" test to better understand one another and ourselves in our working, professional environment.  One of my five was "Restore".  I like that word, rather enjoy it actually.  It does fit me.  I enjoy putting puzzles together, repairing broken items.  As a matter of fact, one of my biggest annoyances is being in a situation in which I can't "troubleshoot" my way out of, one in which I cannot fix. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, some of my most painful memories are ones in which I watched things crumble before me as I watched helplessly.  I firmly believe in restoration, reconciliation, putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.  (Am I the only one who hated the part of the story in which he fell, irrevocably broken forever?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also blessed to have examples of that kind of restoration taking place.  For example, my relationship with my own mother.  While not perfect, we have an amicable relationship.  One would not look at us, and have any sort of idea that there previously existed a chasm between us.  I grant this sort of reconciliation to Providence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what happens when things don't get put back together again? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting used to the idea that not all things get restored.   it's just not that simple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, there is beauty in hope, hope that something can be restored, even if it's not the exact way I had originally pictured. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--may I have the eyes to imagine a new picture--&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6605395179624182178?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6605395179624182178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6605395179624182178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6605395179624182178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6605395179624182178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/restoration.html' title='restoration'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-161272692712051735</id><published>2007-11-30T22:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T22:59:32.402-06:00</updated><title type='text'>what a mother might do for a child</title><content type='html'>I just finished reading a book by Jodi Picoult titled, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Pact.  &lt;/span&gt;Essentially it is a love story.  a love story between a boy and girl.  a love story between friends.  a love story between a parent and his/her child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have thought these last few months how easy it is for parents to stand by their child, even during the most difficult of circumstances.  I understand that there are bonds there, that no one can break.  I also sometimes wonder about the length a parent may go in protecting one's child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would I lie for my child if I thought it would ultimately save him/her in the end.  Would I lie to my child to prevent them from experiencing pain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In no way, am I a mother.  But, I think I have an understanding of the role a mother has, a very limited one, albeit.  I can understand how a mother can stand by her son, believing him, trusting him, standing by him.  And since it's something I can at least fathom, I should not be shocked when a mother will stand by her side even if there's evidence promoting an entirely different truth than the one he may reveal to her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is flesh of her flesh, bone of her bone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(side note: how comforting it must have been for Jesus, even while under excruciating pain, to see his mom there, defending her son, believing in her son, trusting her son, until the very end.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-161272692712051735?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/161272692712051735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=161272692712051735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/161272692712051735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/161272692712051735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-mother-might-do-for-child.html' title='what a mother might do for a child'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7934998763934245490</id><published>2007-11-28T12:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:04:55.624-06:00</updated><title type='text'>a mighty heart</title><content type='html'>i just finished watching a movie regarding the kidnapping of Daniel Pearl, and his wife's quest to find him...I remember reading about an interview with Angelina Jolie during the filming of the movie.  I was instinctively glad she was doing a movie like this.  I was glad the movie was being made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching this difficult portrayal, I am still glad the story was told.  It is definitely not a touchy, feel good kind of movie.  It doesn't have that sort of fairy tale ending. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be watched.  It should be discussed.  It should spark something in all of us.  It made me realize, if I haven't before, that there are two kinds of reporting...There's the sort of reporting that one does in discussing what a celebrity had for breakfast.  Then there's another sort of reporting.  It's the kind a person may risk one's life for...the kind that ends up on the news trying to explain what a terrorist's motive(s) could have been on 9/11....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that journalism can have it's own slant, and that there's not really any unbiased news anymore.  Everyone wants their viewpoint represented.  I am just grateful that there are people out there who still choose to do the kind of reporting that matters.  For it is far more lucrative to report sensationalism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7934998763934245490?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.amightyheartmovie.com/' title='a mighty heart'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7934998763934245490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7934998763934245490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7934998763934245490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7934998763934245490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/mighty-heart.html' title='a mighty heart'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2237997490566703560</id><published>2007-11-28T12:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:07:39.246-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storytelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>telling stories...</title><content type='html'>...here will be rambling at its finest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it wrong to want to be famous?  I don't want to be the sort of Paris Hilton/Brittney Spears sort of famous, but the kind that's under the radar, non-glamorous, almost unimportant.  I have been feeling lately that I want to share stories, individuals' stories that might not otherwise make it on paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how does one go about doing this?  and is this a silly request?  I am no journalist.  I am no reporter.  I am not capable of such things.  So, the question is where is this coming from? this strange desire that makes no sense to me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to be driving me as of late.  I can't escape it even when I try to diminish the thought by rationalization...explaining that I am not cut out for such kind of work, detailed, literary.  This kind of work requires someone perhaps smarter than I am, one with an education, experience,etc.  yet, this feeling of "storytelling" is still there.  It does not escape....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these are the reasons why I wish i could meet myself 5, 10, 0r 20 years from now...I want to see what this hickish, small-town girl is doing with her life...what has she accomplished?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe the story is just a simple one of having a little money, great friends, and just some local interests(dancing, volunteering, etc)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if so, why all these outlandish thoughts in my head???  maybe I just like telling stories to myself to feel better about my lack of vision....hmmm....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2237997490566703560?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2237997490566703560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2237997490566703560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2237997490566703560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2237997490566703560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/telling-stories.html' title='telling stories...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6889771854671323062</id><published>2007-11-22T13:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T13:34:22.764-06:00</updated><title type='text'>alive and well</title><content type='html'>thankfulness...be thankful...those are the words that I remember hearing from a woman when I prayed for deliverance from my past...that sort of charismatic deliverance that meant you didn't walk the same, act the same, talk the same anymore...You've been delivered and changed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I think of today, I think that i while I am somewhat lonely, I have no reason to be...I am loved by others, and I hope to love them as  well in return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year ago I was lying on a couch, confined to staying in bed recovering from a car accident.  I was lonely then to, but appreciative to simply be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even many years before that, on Thanksgiving day, I found myself in a home of a "high society" 90 year old woman who took me back in time, through stories, pictures, and architecture, for she boasted that she had designed the blueprints of her home all by herself.  She in fact mentioned these stories more than once....That thanksgiving is the one I still cherish most after all this time.  I could see that we were the only ones visiting her that day, no one else, and all we were doing were bringing her some cold leftovers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still thankful to be alive, but I want to "live" like that 90 year old woman...she was truly alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6889771854671323062?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6889771854671323062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6889771854671323062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6889771854671323062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6889771854671323062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/alive-and-well.html' title='alive and well'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1930166725754277040</id><published>2007-11-19T13:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T14:05:59.055-06:00</updated><title type='text'>slow cooker</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it seems that everything in my life is progressing slowly...slower than I had hoped... I am not a huge fan of crock pots...the waiting....it never really appealed to me....except in the fact that I was doing other tasks while it was cooking...  That's a bit how I feel now. I am working, spinning, surviving...and my outcomes arrive  slowly.  So slow in fact, it almost seems as though nothing is really happening at all.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1930166725754277040?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1930166725754277040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1930166725754277040' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1930166725754277040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1930166725754277040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/slow-cooker.html' title='slow cooker'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-8656799620005501635</id><published>2007-11-17T22:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T23:16:24.600-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='commitment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>sundays</title><content type='html'>Because I live in the South, it's pretty common for individuals to go to church on Sundays.  I realize that I feel a void when I have a chance to go, but don't.  I enjoy going, as awkward as it is going by myself, with no one to join me.  I have been going to the same place off and on for just over a year now.  Every Sunday I am surprised by the place.  You see, it's in the middle of an affluent community...and very...um...how shall I say...er...white...yep.  It's not quite the same as the place I've formally joined.  It's almost boring in comparison as far as the services go.  And you'd think that in going this whole time, I would have figured out if it's truly my fit or not.   It's like I just cannot commit to the idea of "membership"... I have been a member of a place of worship before, so what's the big deal?  What's my hangup? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could pinpoint one thing, I would call it fear...there's this fear of commitment...what happens when I commit to this body, and something happens that cannot be restored?  I have been rocked to the core by incidences in the past involving people I love and cherish, people who found themselves on opposite sides, not able to reconcile.  I am afraid that I will fail this place.  I will not be able to give, to serve...You see, serving is my love language....or at least my top 3.  I sometimes feel as though I live to serve...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church I attend now started this prayer list for congregants to sign up a half hour slot to pray for the leaders of the church.  I signed up for it...a time perfectly coinciding with my work schedule.  Did I remember to pray?  ummm...no, not so much.  now, I know, don't condemn myself for one little mishap.  But, then I think of what I can actually give, and what I've given(or haven't given) to this body, and it is not much.  I've been around long enough to know that the church is not just there to serve me; I am here to ask the question of what can I do for this body, with this body, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe in community, in relationships, in living it out day by day with others who share the same faith.  I know it can, has been, and will be messy.  I am afraid of the mess...the kind of mess that's created from a fallen egg out of the carton.  One cannot make a broken egg whole again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I think of my friend's very important day tomorrow, I am worried about my lack of decision.  While I don't think that I will just never do it...I wonder how long I will take before I commit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-8656799620005501635?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/8656799620005501635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=8656799620005501635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8656799620005501635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/8656799620005501635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/sundays.html' title='sundays'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-3248135328245137352</id><published>2007-11-14T10:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T10:35:07.831-06:00</updated><title type='text'>small reminders and surprises</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Tuesday night, as I was driving home from a late shift, I started to cry.  I have been emotional lately, and I am letting myself cry when I feel like it.  I don't want to bottle everything up.  I also don't want to be a blubbering mess in front of others...so I allow myself to "feel" on my way home...I actually was wanting to just escape.  I don't know what my limit is...as far as trying to take care of everything...I don't know how much further I can go.  So, I was praying for relief...and I also asked for some good things, unexpected things to happen this week.  I wasn't wanting to complain...I just was thinking....this is getting close to being more than I could handle.  So, here are a few "good" unexpected occurrences....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;last night at SBUX was an easy close...we had enough people...it was fun again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I came into said SBUX to get my morning coffee and was greeted with 2 hugs. XoXo.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I received two unexpected emails yesterday from friends I haven't seen as they've moved away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I keep getting friend requests from others on my new facebook account. (instead of the other way around)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The sun was blindingly bright again this morning.(no really I do enjoy that!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This has been really nice so far.   At this time in my life, I definitely don't want to miss the reminders and surprises that pop up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-3248135328245137352?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/3248135328245137352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=3248135328245137352' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3248135328245137352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3248135328245137352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/small-reminders-and-surprises.html' title='small reminders and surprises'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-7329701100587468719</id><published>2007-11-13T14:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T14:46:24.431-06:00</updated><title type='text'>revealing writing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: left; font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;"&gt;The results of your analysis say:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;"&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;     You fill every waking moment with activity.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;     You are a social person who likes to talk and meet others.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;     You are affectionate, passionate, expressive, and future-oriented.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;     You are a talkative person, maybe even a busybody!     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;     You like standing out and making sure that people know your mind&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--I just filled out a handwriting analysis.  I assumed that this was going to be some lame online test that I would just waste 10 or 15 minutes of my time only to find that it was actually dead on!  How can asking a few simple questions about one's handwriting convey that person's personality so well?  strange.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-7329701100587468719?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://handwriting.feedbucket.com' title='revealing writing'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/7329701100587468719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=7329701100587468719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7329701100587468719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/7329701100587468719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/revealing-writing.html' title='revealing writing'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-9147138585713318061</id><published>2007-11-05T10:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T10:38:27.740-06:00</updated><title type='text'>overrated</title><content type='html'>www.unclaimedbaggage.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-just in case you're wondering, this place did not exceed my expectations on Saturday.  at least I was with good friends who definitely made the trip so much better!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-9147138585713318061?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/9147138585713318061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=9147138585713318061' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9147138585713318061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/9147138585713318061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/overrated.html' title='overrated'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-2761967466598183951</id><published>2007-11-01T23:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T23:49:17.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>off a rabbit trail...</title><content type='html'>there was once upon a time that I got myself into hot water financially speaking...well, I have since turned over a new leaf(don't you just love these idioms!).  And wouldn't ya just know that the minute I start trying to be responsible is the moment when no one will even trust me....(shawn mullins please tell me what a beautiful wreck I am!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-2761967466598183951?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/2761967466598183951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=2761967466598183951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2761967466598183951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/2761967466598183951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/11/off-rabbit-trail.html' title='off a rabbit trail...'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5232195381312015453</id><published>2007-10-30T22:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T22:57:25.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>maybe I do like Fall after all!</title><content type='html'>tonight I had the strangest craving, and desire.  I wanted roasted marshmallows...Maybe my heart is changing.  Perhaps I do like the Fall season... Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)Changing leaves&lt;br /&gt;2)Bonfires(and marshmallows)&lt;br /&gt;3)Pumpkin carving&lt;br /&gt;4)Scarves(and mittens)&lt;br /&gt;5)Fireplace lounging with a good book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so there are five things I like about Fall.  I still despise the chill in the air...oh well....some things will never change!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5232195381312015453?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5232195381312015453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5232195381312015453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5232195381312015453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5232195381312015453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/10/maybe-i-do-like-fall-after-all.html' title='maybe I do like Fall after all!'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-3689334227399052338</id><published>2007-10-28T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T22:56:53.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my sunday condition</title><content type='html'>i am currently still in bed...have only had a shower, and sparingly, leftover sushi...haven't even went outside.  my body says rest, don't do anything.  and because I am trying to be less stubborn, or perhaps because what I am currently reading is good enough to keep me inside...it is bringing up all sorts of thoughts about choices and decisions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to think of the concept of unconditional love...loving someone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;without condition.&lt;/span&gt;  Can a person really do that?  I mean, isn't that what we do?  We love others on the condition that they don't change, they stay the same...or maybe they change, and we wonder if we can love them in this new condition...can we love them the same way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also started to think about each choice that we make and how it can create a million and one different outcomes.  What choice is right at the time?  What if the choice we made 6 years ago was not the right one, and it has lead to this point in time.  And sometimes we make the wrong choice, and something really great happens from that decision.  I like to think that's where Grace steps in and takes over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up Saturday morning grateful to be alive. grateful to be in America.  I know that sounds cliche but I could have been born in another country, time period, and with less opportunity and fortune.  Now, on my worse days I do not think this.  I am not always grateful or appreciative for the family I was born into, or the city I've grown up in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, Saturday, my "manic" side or "euphoric" side felt that no matter how bad it is for me now, or has been, that it could be so much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, spending time with some friends, much needed girl time I might add, celebrating one person's birthday made it so enjoyable.  living, for all its woes, is adventurous.  living is opportunistic. living life is all about the next choice I am going to make....take the vitamins, or go to bed early, or call that friend I need to reconnect with...decisions decisions...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-3689334227399052338?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/3689334227399052338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=3689334227399052338' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3689334227399052338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/3689334227399052338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-sunday-condition.html' title='my sunday condition'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-5434370549208282788</id><published>2007-10-20T10:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T10:13:53.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>feelings-can't I just trade them in at Wal-Mart?</title><content type='html'>Wal-Mart takes anything back right? Well, that being the case, I'd like to take my feelings back.  I could do an exchange for some different ones.  I don't like the ones I have right now...feelings of loneliness, feelings of sorrow, grieving,etc.  I know, I know...feelings just are; you can't just trade them in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this girl sure would like to trade them in today.  Last night, as I was working, I just began to cry, and I am not even sure exactly what prompted it.  I know that I haven't had enough sleep lately.  And when I don't get enough sleep, I get emotional.  But, this felt deeper, like something had opened up, and wasn't about to be closed again.  I have been telling those around me that I haven't even begun to process what has happened to me in the last six months--the change of events. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I think that I couldn't hold it in anymore.  And so here I am the next morning, and it feels like I have awoke from a dream.  Some of the feelings are still left over, and I want to swallow any sadness that I feel.   But, I can't.  I am feeling it.  And I don't like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I go shopping with a friend today, I am going to ask that we make a trip to Walley World to see if the retailer that will take &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; back will take back my unwanted feelings, and just exchange them for some that I like, like happiness, wonder, satisfaction, contentment, etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-5434370549208282788?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/5434370549208282788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=5434370549208282788' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5434370549208282788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/5434370549208282788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/10/feelings-cant-i-just-trade-them-in-at.html' title='feelings-can&apos;t I just trade them in at Wal-Mart?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-6225475752722923200</id><published>2007-10-12T14:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T15:51:24.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What does being called look like?</title><content type='html'>I have been thinking these last few weeks of the reality of being called by God.  I can look back on my life and recognize different times in my life where I have felt as though I was meant to serve, follow, believe in God.  At this point in my life I believe it would do me no good to walk away from Him, as I have been called.  If I run, He will not abandon me.  He can't.  I am called.  I cannot walk away from the faith that I now am holding onto so desperately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have moments where I am truly grateful for grace, favor, blessing and the like.  I am going through a period in my life in which I am counting every penny.  And honestly, even though I am living my life "without margins"(Andy Stanley reference), I am seeing God's grace in my life.  I have "extra".  I wasn't expecting to have that.  I still am in the red, but I am not unprepared.  I can still say no to bankruptcy.  This hopefully is an example of diligence and wisdom...(and a little help from Dave Ramsey!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, although I have no idea what direction my life is headed, or even where I might lay my head months from now, I have an assurance that I am called...I am beginning to understand that it's not about me...I am called for His purposes.  So, it's okay that I don't have it all figured out. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-en-NASB-29819" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span id="en-NIV-en-NASB-29819" class="sup"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace which was granted us in Christ Jesus from all eternity(2Tim 1:9)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-6225475752722923200?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='https://www.mytotalmoneymakeover.com/index.cfm?' title='What does being called look like?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/6225475752722923200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=6225475752722923200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6225475752722923200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/6225475752722923200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-does-being-called-look-like.html' title='What does being called look like?'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1874810942778840420</id><published>2007-10-02T00:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T00:27:20.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>humility</title><content type='html'>I am not sure what to write about on this subject, except to say that I realized something about the definition of humility.  This weekend I listened to someone speak on this topic, and quoting someone really smart(I cannot even remember who originally said it!) stated that one who has humility, has a right assessment of oneself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought of humility in that exact way before.  I associate humility as thinking less of yourself, and simply lowering yourself to some status &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;similar&lt;/span&gt; to soap scum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, humility is acknowledging who you are, and who you are not.  For instance, humility doesn't say "I can't sing that well." when you sound like Charlotte Church (or whomever you believe a really talented singer might be.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit that I am good with the verse in the bible that speaks of one esteeming others more than one's self, thinking of others first, you get the idea...But when it comes to acknowledging what i am good at, and what I can do, I tend to just look over my own accomplishments, and try to attribute success to someone else.  "They were really helpful, and were the catalyst...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt;.  While all these things might be true, I can't negate my own workings in the situation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, this week perhaps I will embrace a correct view of myself...no more false pride, just truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1874810942778840420?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1874810942778840420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1874810942778840420' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1874810942778840420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1874810942778840420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/10/humility.html' title='humility'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1288574001273935605</id><published>2007-09-22T21:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T21:48:56.022-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just face it</title><content type='html'>i am listening to a lot, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of country music lately.  I think i am wanting to get back to my roots, get back to a time when my life was simpler, and more down to earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was leaving the apartment today after a long day of cleaning, purging,  and organizing.   While driving, I heard Carrie Underwood's new song, "Wasted".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to examine exactly where I am at in this season of my life.  The lyrics were quite poignant for my current situation.  I don't want to just exist.  One of my biggest fears in life is that I will look back upon my life regretting missed opportunities and wrong decisions.  So, this song speaks to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a sample:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; She said sometimes love slips away&lt;br /&gt;and you just can't get it back&lt;br /&gt;Let's face it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one split second&lt;br /&gt;She almost turned around&lt;br /&gt;But that would be like pouring rain drops&lt;br /&gt;Back into a cloud&lt;br /&gt;So she took another step and said&lt;br /&gt;I see the way out and I'm gonna' take it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This song is true for me.  I almost went back into the situation that i have since left.  And yes, I saw my way out.  I am not regretful of my decision.  It was a difficult one.  And I am facing it.  Is this a sign of maturity?  Oh God, I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1288574001273935605?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.myspace.com/carrieunderwood' title='Just face it'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1288574001273935605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1288574001273935605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1288574001273935605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1288574001273935605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/09/just-face-it.html' title='Just face it'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1277826740243744492</id><published>2007-09-20T08:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T08:42:34.797-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sell all that you own</title><content type='html'>I am sure that when jesus said &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=49&amp;amp;chapter=18&amp;amp;verse=22&amp;amp;version=31&amp;amp;context=verse"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, he didn't really mean because the person himself was poor.  I am, however, in that situation.  Because of my own stupidity, I am left with nothing.  Instead of being depressed and angry, I am finding myself ecstatic.  I love not having "stuff".  I have never been attached to things, per se.  But, this is quite an extreme mode of living.  I think it goes back to my need to survive growing up.  When you are just trying to survive the situation, then you find out what is truly important. (books, people, underwear) The hardest part is knowing how poor I really am.  I am not just poor, but I am much like the government.  I have a deficit.  This is something I don't like attached to me.  Red ink is a part of who I am currently.  This must change.  Hence, selling all that I own...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1277826740243744492?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1277826740243744492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1277826740243744492' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1277826740243744492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1277826740243744492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/09/sell-all-that-you-own.html' title='sell all that you own'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-1886782288554955840</id><published>2007-09-20T00:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T00:26:05.242-05:00</updated><title type='text'>to thine own self be true</title><content type='html'>this is what I am doing in this season of my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding out who I am, who I am not, and what I need to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love nature, being out in it, basking in the sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am country, yes, there I said it--if you could hear me, I would sound heavy with drawl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a hard worker-although I am interested in the idea of working smarter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am someone who pays back what I owe."Just say no" to bankruptcy.&lt;br /&gt;(Disclaimer:&lt;i&gt; if I owe you money, i am so so so sorry, just let me know, and I will pay it back, I promise!  I probably forgot.&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not that great of a friend, but what I do best is make you feel like a million bucks when you are actually in my presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a bookworm. I love books, book ideas, book clubs, bookstores, anything with the word "book" in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like confrontation.  i abhor it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love experiencing new things.   I used to attribute this to being fickle, but I am coming to understand that so much of my experiences are truly about finding out what makes me tick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few things that I have been mulling over in my head as of late.  Is that even a real word.  I don't even know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-1886782288554955840?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/1886782288554955840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=1886782288554955840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1886782288554955840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/1886782288554955840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/09/to-thine-own-self-be-true.html' title='to thine own self be true'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-4625807231707289305</id><published>2007-09-19T23:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T00:07:30.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>working for a livin....</title><content type='html'>i don't really want to have correct punctuality at the moment.  I am writing this too late, and just want to get it on paper....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today I was at the grocery store picking up some things and noticed one of the workers outside. he is working there just about every time I go.  for awhile I didn't see him, and I have to admit, i missed him.  i like going regularly to the same place, and being able to spot familiar faces.  i find it quite reassuring.  what i also think is interesting about this person is that every time I see him, he is talking to himself.   he is not very positive, as it seems that he is always arguing with himself.  and while i do find it a bit sad, i also inwardly smile, appreciating his faithfulness. seriously, he's there quite a bit.  he does many jobs that others probably would shirk. he is working. bringing in an income. keeping the economy going, all while being, er, let's just say somewhat inhibited mentally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet, i know someone who mentally is strong, or at least doesn't have conversations with himself, but somehow cannot find it within themselves to go to work for just a few hours a day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i find it hard to understand.....i find it hard to empathize....i find it hard to believe.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-4625807231707289305?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/4625807231707289305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=4625807231707289305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4625807231707289305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/4625807231707289305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/09/working-for-livin.html' title='working for a livin....'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4114002205986938705.post-369527970377579076</id><published>2007-09-19T23:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T23:56:36.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Measure Of A Man</title><content type='html'>In my profile, I am going to be sure to admit that I enjoy country music WAAAY more than I should.  Today I was listening to a song that by Jack Ingram that spoke about what being a man is all about.  I enjoy this song because of the storyline of the character, what he has learned over the years.  In the end, he becomes this softhearted, honest, gentleman.  I feel as though in our culture today the hard part for guys is testing what is true manhood.  I, not being a man of course, cannot state what that is...But I think &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/jackingram"&gt;this  song&lt;/a&gt; starts in the right place.  I appreciate the telling of the story almost as much as the twang. (wink!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4114002205986938705-369527970377579076?l=valerielancaster.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/feeds/369527970377579076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4114002205986938705&amp;postID=369527970377579076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/369527970377579076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4114002205986938705/posts/default/369527970377579076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valerielancaster.blogspot.com/2007/09/measure-of-man.html' title='The Measure Of A Man'/><author><name>valerielee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12239034093585844163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
